red.

sweat trickled down the nape of her neck despite the wind blowing against the course of her face. her eyes shifted from the remnants of what had just happened on her palm to the rosary beads on her other hand. she did not mind the eyes of the passengers around her. the roads were traversed with mocking eyes and impatient urges. they knew about it. they just do. she simply can’t stay anymore. only one person left to go to.

their mouths gaped.

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