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⠀Isiah had seen his face a million times in his life. It was the same face, nothing special about it. Dark honey eyes, surrounded by purplish skin. Deep-seated and big, a part of his starry-skied skin.
⠀This was the same face. A tired one, with hollow cheeks. He was almost unrecognisable to the one person who had seen his face the most ― himself.
⠀The water swirled red between his fingers, as he rubbed furiously at the cuts that littered his hands. His skin turned raw, micro parts of himself sinking to the bottom of the basin. His entire body was bruised and tender, a beating from a moving vehicle would do that to you.
⠀A slow breath shook from his lips, as he tried his best to stand on his own two feet. The only thing keeping him up was the stare that burned into his skull, he could tell she had no problem in keeping a close eye on him.
⠀Dawn Lerner, he had finally learnt her name ― she had escorted him away from his hospital room, to another where he could change from the flimsy hospital gown to the blue hospital scrubs his sister was also adorned with.
⠀He felt intruded upon. It was almost as bad as those needles that had been stuck beneath his skin. Dawn didn't let up in her stair, and he cast a look in the mirror just as he was scrubbing his neck of leftover dirt.
⠀"You got a problem?" Isiah looked over his shoulder, leaning all his weight onto the counter. Something was up with his leg; the right one to be exact. It was difficult to walk on, and his thigh had an everlasting burn that ran up his legs like tightening vines.
⠀The woman glanced down at her arms that crossed over her chest. "I hope not." There was a guarded tone to her voice, and he gave that to her since she only knew his name and not what he had been through. Unless his sister had divulged what insidious situations they have been through, he would at least try to give her the benefit of the doubt when it came to how she should approach him.
⠀He just didn't like the way she looked at him.
⠀Isiah had always been hyper aware of the eyes that passed him a glance. What they were looking at, or maybe even looking for. Since he was a young teenager, he didn't seem to fear what people saw but more of what they thought of it. He wasn't very accepting of his own self, so he couldn't fathom anyone else doing so.
⠀Isiah finally spoke up once again, as he realised there had been a long pause between them. "I'm Isiah Greene." The woman nodded knowingly. "Wa―was there another guy with us?"
