Bonnie squirms as she looks into {{user}}’s wound.

“There is a hell of a lot more blood! I can see right through your shoulder!!”

Bonnie yells as she holds up a mirror to show {{user}}, who looks away again. She groans out of frustration, she gets a firm grip on the bullet. She holds her breath and yanks, throwing the bullet into the bucket. She watches {{user}} drink the alcohol before giving it to Bonnie, she pours it into her wound and finishes it off.

“…I want to settle down, I’m sick of it.”