She’s out running errands, on her way home, when she spots a familiar figure. Eden is no longer surprised to see him around, while the wounds are still tender — they haven’t made up, not like someone would, like some should after the fallout they had had; they at least walked on neutral grounds, or so she believes.
That he smells of blood she picks up immediately, that he’s limping she picked up before that. He’s clearly injured, just how injured he is she realizes when she’s face to face with him so it’s a “ What the fuck happened to you? ” that makes it past her lips instead of a greeting. “ Jesus Abel... ” she blindly fishes for a tissue, finds one and uses it to carefuly drag it across his cheek “ Or rather, who did? ” she is not going to question how easy it is to fall into old habits around him, she rather sighs “ Come along, ” she instructs “ Let me look at these, ” she’s refering to the injuries she sees and can’t see. “ I know you’ll heal, but lets at least let me clean them, ” she requests, “ It’s not like I haven’t patched you up before... ” // @praavicordius
