It's not fair.

{{user}} stood before the mirror with soddened eyes. You hated the way those scars covered each inch of skin and educed frequenting memories of that day. You wanted to take those words back, those moments.

It's never fair; you knew you couldn't.

Simon was impending the bathroom door that you secured, ensuring no access. It caused him to envision the possibilities of why you were taking your time. "Oy, ya a'right?" His tone sounded dour, but weirdly sympathetic.