Our conversation took place in the living room which started smelling like lavender and scorched leather.
Mostly because I hadn't showered yet, the stains still present on my body, and because Sienna, in her infinite wisdom, insisted on burning calming candles whenever there was a "crisis."
I sat slumped on the edge of the oversized suede couch, stripped down to a blood-streaked undershirt and torn pants, trying my best not to bleed all over the furniture. It was a losing battle. A small but growing stain was already seeping into the pristine suede. At this point, I couldn't even tell what injury I was bleeding from. Hell, I couldn't even tell if I was bleeding out or it was just blood that hadn't fully dried up and was still leaking a bit.
Alexis hovered over me like an executioner preparing her tools.
