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Summary
Ghost’s head feels dangerously light as he readies his blade again. He wipes a section of his arm with tissue, going from a sticky red to a stained pink.
The result is fast, deep and long. He sees stars and lets out a whine that’s so pathetic he’s almost embarrassed about it.
Except the stars in his vision don’t cease, and his breathing continues in quick, strained huffs. He’s on the verge of blacking out when he notices a voice behind the bathroom door.
Worried and quiet, “Simon?”