Deep breath, eyes on the pale white flesh of the inside of your wrist. Veins that look healthy, a palish blu.
Knowing the very place those veins are trying to supply with blood. Knowing all to well, its to late. for the very thing they supply has turned ice cold. Refusing to allow the blood to heat it up, to make it whole again.
Then you grin wryly. How can you make something whole thats been cold for so long? cold from years of giving and recieving little for the effort you put into car