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“Isaac broke the ink cartridge in his hand until it dripped from his fist. He dipped his hand onto her face, then her aching neck, then to her breasts making waves, carving her in such a way she nearly rose from the bed. He read all her wounds, marks, and scratches like a blind man reading braille. The encoded torment she had allowed herself to be laden with, just to check if she still felt.” — Yarro Rai
Isaac broke the ink cartridge in his hand until it dripped from his fist. He dipped his hand onto her face, then her aching neck, then to her breasts making waves, carving her in such a way she nearly rose from the bed. He read all her wounds, marks, and scratches like a blind man reading braille. The encoded torment she had allowed herself to be laden with, just to check if she still felt.