Blood had always been everywhere in my life.
In conversations my father discussed blood ties. And late nights in his study, when I crept like a mouse through the warm halls, he talked with his men about taking blood.
I never knew what that all meant, blood ties, blood vengeance, all of it. I always had the subconscious thought that my dad was a doctor, he talked about taking blood so much it only made sense.
Blood this blood that, so prevalent in my life but still just a word. When I learned my dad was not a doctor, I stopped running to his study after work and asking how his patients were. In fact, I stopped asking questions at all.
blood, blood, blood, blood.
I remember when Santiago started talking like my father, and suddenly Santiago was a doctor like dad.
blood, blood, blood, blood. Still just a word,
Until it wasn't just a word anymore.
Suddenly blood was everywhere, on the walls, on my sheets, on my curtains, on my hands and in my eyes.
And suddenly, vehemently and without warning, I had to become a doctor too.
Blood was not at all what I thought it was, it was ghastly on my fingertips and it stung my cold skin. Blood gashed from my stomach and stained my duvet covers, it hurt and burned and killed me on the inside.
And as my villains lay dead at my feet, I knew we shared that much in common.
In another world over 3,000 miles away, another doctor stood in the foggy nighttime air, blood that was not his stained his hands, and he grinned.
YOU ARE READING
Guns and Roses: Silver
RomanceHe traces the edge of his finger along my jawline as I embrace the warmth his body had ambushed me with. "I'd never strike you to be a criminal" I murmur, as I back up against the stone wall. He narrows his eyes at my hesitant movements and inches f...