finish the story
He watches her as her eyes scan him, and she picks the damp rag back up. She runs it along his skin, catching the final stray smears of blood and grime. But her hand falters on his bicep, right over the inked on R. She’s never asked him what it means, but he can feel the question unspoken between them, just like he has every time she’s seen it. It isn’t easy for me either. He doesn’t know what makes this time different, what force pulls the words to the surface. But they’re there, and for once, he doesn’t want to run from them.
kanej | 3.3k | t












