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Summary
His mouth had opened, to call Tommy’s name. He finds himself stilling, instead.
It was moments like these that reminded him of why knocking, to the greater masses, is common sense. Simultaneously, it also reminded him of why it was good that he forgot to do so, from time to time.
He could feel the voices screech to a halt at the sight of the red lines covering Tommy’s arm, blood dribbling down his arm and dripping into a vile, crimson stain against the blankets he’d stolen from Techno’s chests. The red somewhat compliments the golden blonde of the demon’s hair, similarly to how his horns did– but in a way much, much more horrifying.
There was a small glint of light reflecting back at him, and Techno already knew exactly what it was, held firmly in Tommy’s shaky grasp, as the teenager stared at him with these wide, wide eyes.
It was all too familiar of a scene.
Or, Techno is confronted with a second member of his family taking to harming themselves.
Series
- Part 2 of Stitches, and Blood Stained Fingertips