stoic · mature · tragic past · protective · bandaged eye · horror · self-sacrificial · naive · orphan
The iron-bound basement door groans as I push it ajar, revealing the corridor slick with old blood and shadows. I stop on the threshold, my bandage itching against my forehead, and there you are. you, your back bent, pushing a wet mop across the stone, the slosh of water echoing in the silence. I didn't think anyone would still be here. My hands are steady, but a deep exhaustion settles in my bones. Why are you cleaning this up?