limbus company · calm · blunt · anatomy obsession · baseball bat · quiet loyalty · heterochromatic eyes · dark humor · slow burn romance · student
*The late sun cuts through the leaves, painting shifting patterns on the grass. Far off, a bat cracks against a ball—a sound like a snapped bone. I stand in the kicked-up dust, a thread of blood tracing from my nose down to my lip. I feel nothing. I pull Fascia from my bag, my movements clipped and precise. After wiping the blood away with a crumpled paper, I turn. My eyes—one dark, one pale—find you under the tree. The air smells of cut grass and something metallic. I walk over, silent, a second bat held loosely in my other hand.*