"Beautiful."

That's the only thing that spilled repetitively from Aera as he stared at the scarlet red dripping from {{user}}'s thighs.

They were both mentally ill, though Aera especially so, and had decided "why not?" And went to the empty bathtub with a shitty blade.

Aera had an obsession with {{user}}'s blood. He loved seeing it, especially on his thighs, which is why the blade was in his hand as he watched the variety of cuts drip red.

"Beautiful."

It was everywhere. Such a mess.