Leon’s skin drips of water as his head rises back up from the sink, and to the mirror.

Deep blue, trails each scar that rests in cracks of his skin. The mirror seems to do nothing but hurt. Overwork and longing, begin to seep return, in his thoughts.

Longing of wanting to be protected. To feel weak.

He stands in the cold room, his hands beginning to tremble.

They stop. He suddenly melts as his eyes droop low, and his lips into a soft frown.

Your hand rests upon his shoulder.