[It's late in the afternoon by the time he lands in the back yard, and with the adrenaline and defiance snuffed out, he's just tired and stinging all over. None of the cuts are all that deep, but they all add up to a constant, inescapable irritation.
He leaves the blood-stained paper detailing his sins on the dining table, not bothering to stash it away. Maybe it's better if Billy sees it. He's fucking tired of hiding who he is.
Princess sniffs and whines after him as he shuts himself in the bathroom and starts to strip off. It's trickier than usual with the cut in his hand and the shirt clinging to his skin, more red than white.]
Post Slicey-Times
He leaves the blood-stained paper detailing his sins on the dining table, not bothering to stash it away. Maybe it's better if Billy sees it. He's fucking tired of hiding who he is.
Princess sniffs and whines after him as he shuts himself in the bathroom and starts to strip off. It's trickier than usual with the cut in his hand and the shirt clinging to his skin, more red than white.]