The door opens. You're met with a person. His name isn't lost on you, but you know that he's going to do something to you. He knows. He knows what you've done and he wants you out as much as everything else does. You start backing away, not knowing what he'll do. Fear wraps around your neck like razor wire. You want to run, but you can't think of anywhere else to go. The gnawing gets louder, more violent. Your hands shake.

He sighs. "Please tell me that isn't your blood."

"It-" The words almost stumble out of your mouth. "It's not."

He gets closer to the door, opening the place up for you. "Just go take a shower before you touch anything, alright?"

You take his offer with a loose sensibility of grace, but as you look half lucidly into his eyes you can't help but try to embrace him. Understandably, he quietly shoves you away.

>>>>