OOC

*rubs neck nervously*

little thing i drew for test-the-temperamentals

Chelsea Tao - Prayers (Toronto Poetry Slam 2014)

Who Can Save Me Now? - Anarbor

x 

"I… suppose we’ll clean you off." 0895 says. She takes her scrap cloth and dabs at Harpers face, doing her best to get the blood off. Some dry parts were being a bit stubborn. In attempt to scrub the remnants off, 0895 brings the cloth to her mouth, licking it to wet the fabric. As she does so, something in her eye changes. Her face shifts, from worried to perplexed. And as she brings the cloth back to Harper’s face, she leans in closer and inhales. "Harper— you… smell divine." There is an odd tone to her voice as she says this; not happy, no. Confused, perhaps. She places her free hand on Harper’s shoulder, as if to steady her. "Don’t move, now…" She continues to rub at Harper’s face. As 0895 does so, her grip on Harper’s shoulder tightens, nails digging in to pink flesh.

"Harper?" She begins.

"Yes?" Harper replies, surprisingly even. 0895’s expression is further obscured now; a mix of confusion and dismay. Her voice sounds strangely choked when she speaks again.