[ 'Bad' feels like an understatement. She was healed when she came here and it's still bad. But she can see the tremor in his hand, even if he can't. She tries to imagine what it would have looked like, what it would have felt like.
She swallows thickly and rubs at one wrist. They still ache, a little. With how messed up her hands got she's surprised she could ever use them again. She stares at the scars there, for something to look at. ]
How did she...
[ No, that's not the right question. She swallows once more and tries again. ]
I didn't think anyone was looking.
[ She'd convinced herself- let herself be convinced- that she was abandoned, forgotten. That when she died it was alone and unmissed. ]
no subject
She swallows thickly and rubs at one wrist. They still ache, a little. With how messed up her hands got she's surprised she could ever use them again. She stares at the scars there, for something to look at. ]
How did she...
[ No, that's not the right question. She swallows once more and tries again. ]
I didn't think anyone was looking.
[ She'd convinced herself- let herself be convinced- that she was abandoned, forgotten. That when she died it was alone and unmissed. ]