Work Text:
Emil Sinclair, sinner number eleven, was in his room in the back rooms of Mephistopheles. He could hear some on the other sinners talking and walking outside his door, some yelling, some humming, definitely ticking.
he held a pair of tweezers in his left hand, looking at the scabs on the side of his inner right elbow. They’ve been picked at before. He doesn’t know why he does it, he knows it’ll scar, yet he continues.
he might be doing this because of the dried up blood annoying him, and the urge to pick at tear at it was too strong.
he settles the tweezers on the scab closest to his hand, his hands where strangely still and careful. He tugged on a small part that his tweezers could hold onto.
He began to pull slightly, it hurt more than usual tonight, but he shrugged it off, pulling more.
He decided to quickly tug as if it was a band-aid, but, as soon as he did, blood came quickly.
Too quickly for his liking.
not like it usually does.
He gasped quietly, nearly dropping the now bloodied tweezers, his eyes wide.
”Sheiße...I-It’s never bled this quickly...” He murmured as the blood began to fall slowly against his skin. It was cold, and he hated the feeling of it.
he didn’t want to know why it felt cold.
he grabbed his tie and quickly cleaned it, due to the red colour of the tie, it might not be visible.
But...That was unexpected. Usually it just spots and is just there, it never drips like that.
he didn’t like the fact it did drip. Maybe he should’ve stopped when he felt the first prick of pain. But no. He continued until he could not pull at anymore skin. His arm was bloodied once more.
he knew the risks. He knew it’d scar- even more so that it’s a part of the body that moves around a lot. He knew it could get infected.
yet he continued.
he thought about Ryōshū and Don Quixote for a split second— due to the blood. They both have some kind of a connection to blood.
He sighed heavily, setting his tie down. His hair fell over his eyes for a moment before he fixed it back into its regular placement.
If his sleeve rolls up by accident and reveals that, he’ll either get a concerned talk or a sharp sigh of air.
He hopes for neither.