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“He reached a hand toward me, and I shuddered as he ran cool, wet fingers down my stinging aching cheek. Blood- that was blood on them. And from the stickiness of my face, I knew there was already enough blood splattered on me that it wouldn't make a difference.” — Sarah J. Maas
He reached a hand toward me, and I shuddered as he ran cool, wet fingers down my stinging aching cheek. Blood- that was blood on them. And from the stickiness of my face, I knew there was already enough blood splattered on me that it wouldn't make a difference.