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[rewritter]

This is Fakir. Leave a message.

[ beeep. ]

Comments

[motioned]

At least let me wash it out. Please.

[rewritter]

I could do it myself. You don't have to.

[motioned]

I know I don't have to, that isn't the point!

[rewritter]

[ 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. ]

[motioned]

[She takes hold of his hands again, expression clearly concerned.]

Stop it, you're hurting yourself!

[rewritter]

[ he freezes at her touch, but doesn't pull away. ]

It's not serious. I have to clean this up.

[motioned]

Then I'll get a broom or something! Please, you're making me nervous...

[rewritter]

[ but he suddenly grips her hand, as if to stop her from leaving. ]

You didn't look in the mirror, did you?

[motioned]

[She pauses.]

Not the one in this room.

[rewritter]

... So you did in yours?

[motioned]

It doesn't matter, we can talk about this after we clean your hands!

[rewritter]

[ whatever she saw, he doesn't want her to see it again. he drops her hands, turns back to gather up the rest of the shards instead. ]