[There it is. The pierce he expected. The wordless howl. The boil of no. The roll of anger like a tide. He scoffs. A huff. And he continues on. Tilts the wrist if he must. Tries not to laugh of the irony of it all. He isn't entirely sure if he succeeds. He isn't entirely sure if he cares.
He knows the smell of disinfectant. Of hospital beds. The crinkle of heart monitors. The feeling of bruises as they heal. The cream white walls. The shifting of sheets. The pale white lines, which used to be vivid red. And he doesn't shut the door. He lets it roll through him, whatever it is. The normalcy of it all. The familiarity. Lets it guide, if its going to stick around at all.
In any case, he holds his tongue. But he keeps working, and soon enough the bulk of the blood is wiped away, clinging to the towel. He unrolls the bandages and starts upon wrapping the wrist. Somehow stable. The claw marks in his wrist and the back of his hand are immaterial. He disregards the snarls.]
no subject
He knows the smell of disinfectant. Of hospital beds. The crinkle of heart monitors. The feeling of bruises as they heal. The cream white walls. The shifting of sheets. The pale white lines, which used to be vivid red. And he doesn't shut the door. He lets it roll through him, whatever it is. The normalcy of it all. The familiarity. Lets it guide, if its going to stick around at all.
In any case, he holds his tongue. But he keeps working, and soon enough the bulk of the blood is wiped away, clinging to the towel. He unrolls the bandages and starts upon wrapping the wrist. Somehow stable. The claw marks in his wrist and the back of his hand are immaterial. He disregards the snarls.]