[Before she even realizes it, she's there next to him, one hand on his shoulder, one reaching for his arm to see how bad the damage to his hand is. Her voice is tense with worry.]
[ what did he see?... he'd forgotten about his parents for years. he'd made himself forget. even their faces. he doesn't even seem to realize his hand was bleeding again. ]
[ cleaning this mess up probably comes first. he picks up another piece of glass, freezes at the reflection, then throws it in the trash. but he doesn't pay attention to cutting his fingers even more. ]
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What'd you see? What happened? Your hand...
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N... nothing happened. Nothing...
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Here, let's just, I'll go with you and we can clean out the cut.
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[ oh. huh. that one. he stares at his hand for a few seconds, then curls it into a fist. ]
It'll be fine.
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Stop it, you're hurting yourself!
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It's not serious. I have to clean this up.
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You didn't look in the mirror, did you?
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Not the one in this room.
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