&
Send me “&” for my muse’s reaction to yours tracing one of their scars.
Pellets.
Yin immediately tensed, feeling Oliver’s fingers moving along the faded scar on her wrist. A memory came flooding back; one she wasn’t proud of. She was weak. Mentally. Physically? She didn’t know. But one night…everything was too much. She’d grabbed one of the knives from the kitchen drawer…and…
…she blinked, glancing back at the green rabbit who stood before her, still tracing the scar gently. She stared down at her feet, ashamed. "It…was…an accident." Lie.
She didn’t want to know what he’d think of her, if she spilled out the truth.







