LEAVING WITHOUT A TRACE WASN’T THE PROBLEM. The problem was leaving without a trace after her boyfriend is, more or less, dragged into Hell. She realizes this. And though it’s common for Priscilla to drastically underestimate the affection people have reserved for her and solely her, she’s positive that she’s the only other person in Gabriel’s life besides the mailman and occasional stray cat.
So she hides her bruises with a sweater, healing wounds with her tights. She picks up a box of bagels on her way to Gabriel’s, because she loves him. And because he doesn’t deserve her misery. Not him.
A knock at his door. Priscilla pulls her beanie over her fringe, a cover for a stitched up cut just above her left eyebrow.
❛ DAAAAAAAD. Open up the door! My hands’re full! ❜ // @acidveined
















