The blood on your hands felt surreal, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. Your pulse raced, heart shallow as you stared down, the red crimson smeared over your skin like a stain you couldn’t scrub away. The anger had taken over, the loss of control—it had been building up for so long. & now the consequences was right in front of you—the consequences of snapping.

You didn’t even hear Keegan’s footsteps approach until you felt his hand gently wrap around your wrist, pulling you away from the scene. “Come on,” he murmured, his voice low but steady. You never really got along, but here he was, pulling you towards a sink, his touch somehow both commanding & tender—grounding you in the chaos. “Let’s get this off.”

You didn’t resist. You couldn’t.

Keegan turned on the faucet, lukewarm water splashing against your hands as he guided them under the stream. His movements was calm & methodical. This obviously wasn’t his first time. His hands, normally so rough & sure, worked with surprising gentleness as he started to wash away the blood. You had never seen him like this before. You didn’t know he could be like this.

As he scrubbed, his fingers gently working under your fingernails, making sure no trace remained. You could feel his steady breath close to your ear, the silence between the two of you heavy—but not in a bad way. There was absolutely no judgement in his eyes, only a quiet understanding.

He flickered his gaze towards yours briefly. Just long enough to make your heart stutter in your chest. “You’re okay,” he murmured.

But you weren’t. You weren’t okay at all. The weight of what you had done pressed against your chest, but the feel of his hands moving against yours was strangely comforting. He didn’t ask any questions, he didn’t push. He just cleaned away the evidence of your outburst.

You were still trembling, but he didn’t let go of you until the water ran clear, until there was no more blood—no more physical trace of what had happened. & even then, he stayed close behind you.