fingertips tremble as they press against the bandage splayed ‘cross the back of her shoulder. it’s been days since she’s changed it, but the gauze usually lasts longer. SHE DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS. for the burning sensation that follows even the slightest graze against rotting flesh. a wince taps usually stoic features, teeth grating together while maggie tries to muster up enough strength to, quite frankly, I G N O R E her open wound. ❛ pass the butter ? ❜ she’ll blame the constant touch upon her shoulder on a kink in the neck ! she just slept on it wrong. ❛ –– please. ❜ / @salvatyon !