Time
“You’re crying.”
“I scared myself,” I admit, noting my heart rate, which has finally settled. While I run my hand under the tap, watching the way the icy cold water dilutes the blood draining down the sink, Time rummages through the medicine cabinet, pulling out antiseptic and a handful of bandages.
It more than scared me.
“It’s just a small cut, you’ll survive,” Time tells me gently, trying to calm me down as I wipe tears from my cheeks. “Why are you so frightened?”
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