🔴 4 :)
my muse applying pressure your muses bleeding wound.
It was a fairly uneventful evening at the hideout, flipping through the channels as she waited for Crane to return from.... whatever he was doing. At the sound of his return, any sarcastic joke about being tardy dissolved at the sight of blood pouring down his arm. Scrambling off the couch she grabbed a towel, unsure of how to deal with such a mess or even what to say.
"What the hell happened?!" Staying calm was becoming harder and harder as the towel became quickly soaked in her hands. "What do I do?"















