SomberSweet
Anxious Cat
▀▄Littie the Loser▄▀
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ʈɧɘ ɗαяӄȠɘѕѕ яɘѕʈσяɘѕ ωɧαʈ ʈɧɘ ℓɪɡɧʈ ϲαȠ Ƞσʈ яɘραɪя ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
F e e l i n g: What am I doing?
W h e r e:The abandoned classroom
W i t h: Mikael
W e a r i n g: this is my version of cute, my bag, my Other bag
M u s i c: Heaven Knows - The Pretty Reckless
The necromancer was quite surprised to hear that the man next to her didn't think she was a burden. I mean it is pretty obvious that she was, and yet here he was, flashing that ******** gorgeous smile at her. Her cheeks burned red as she stole a glance. Damn this boy. Damn him and his pretty face.
Littie scanned the room. They were alone at least. And would you look at that, just what she needed, a sink. She slowly meandered over. "Yeah...I... Ugh... Could you reach into the front pocket of my bag, there is a smaller bag with a ouija board on it, I need it, but I don't think I can grab it without making the bleeding worse..." her words came out ad little more than a whisper. That bad she needed his help grabbing had her blades, and her wound care stuff. She knew that very soon she would have to expose her arms to his prying eyes, and the claims of no judgment would slip away leaving him appalled and frantic. But it was not like she had options.
One pale blood stained hand moved the handle of the faucet causing water to hiss through the pipes and splatter in the sink as her kind companion pulled out the little bag. She looked up at him, icy blue eyes cold on the surface and raging with fear and pain beneath, like they normally were. "Thank you. Would you mind dumping it out?" she asked softly. She looked away, never liking to keep any sort of eye contact for any period of time. As she waited for the sound of metal and plastic crashing onto the counter next to her she dropped her hoody, sliding her arms behind her and leaning back slightly so the oversized thing fell free of her shoulders and slowly began to remove her bandages.
The once white fabric was saturated in thick red blood. It fought to stay together as she pulled it away from herself. It took all of her concentration not to shake. She was very exposed. Her pale arms lay bare and all of the scars, new and old cuts, and the large hand shaped bruse on her right upper arm. It was fairly fresh still, bright purple and black, with a slightly greenish hue around the edges. Dad had gotten angry when she had dropped a box of books he told her to carry when they were moving in, the bruse on her arm was nothing though compared to the one on her back from him throwing her against a wall and out of his way. It twinged still, a throbing ache, not like the fire she felt in her cuts.
She winced, stifling a whimper as the fabric around her wrists was finally almost off, and was now actually trying to stay attached to her wound. The red gauze pulled at the open edges of the deep cut as she pulled it off. Blood danced down her hand dripping from the backs of her fingers into the sink. She glanced next to her, the contents of her bag laying on the counter. Razor blades of several shapes and sizes, including her beloved exacto-knife, pain killers, alcohol pads, sterile gauze, gauze wraps, all on display. "T-thanks," she stammered looking up at him for a moment, not long enough to meet his gaze. She did not want to see how disgusted he must be at the sight. She reached over with the bandaged arm and grabbed the little green bag with her soutcher kit, using her teeth to grab the zipper and open it. As soon as it was open she grabbed her tools, put her arm under the water and went dead still for a moment. The water was like ice, it was so cold it burned and slightly numbed the area.
She wasted no time quickly throwing in a few one handed stitches to stop the worst of the bleeding. Honestly she was not even sure how she survived this time. It was deep enough, she passed out, she should have died. She wished she had died. "You don't have to stay for this, if it is too much, I understand. I appreciate all you have done. But you don't owe me anything..." she said softly. A cigarette would be very necessary when at last she was done. But for now she would start on the next arm and hope that this guy would not freak out.
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ɱσяɘ ʈɧαȠ ʈɧɘ ɘΥɘ ϲαȠ ѕɘɘ, ℓɘѕѕ ʈɧαȠ Υσυ ϲαяɘ ʈσ βɘɧσℓɗ ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
Semo Le Strange
((I am only able to put s**t up but here is yet another post.))
