Her hand comes up, the blade there, dripping red onto the white counter top. A single line of blood seeps from the wound she's created, starting to drip off, into the sink, staining the porcelain permanently with the darkest of thoughts. I want to die. No, not even that. She was numb to it all, even the cuts- these reminders of her anger at herself and the pain that was just Too Much- they don't hurt anymore. She doesn't feel the sting of the knife slicing through her so-very-fragile skin, her mind is blank- blank and black as night. She just didn't see the point to thinking, to feeling, to being anymore, it wasn't there.

There was no point. Nobody would miss her, and so she lifted the knife again, bringing it to her other wrist, slice.. again, slice... again, slice.

"No!" 

She didn't hear him approach, didn't realize he had been running here, rushing here from miles away- screaming at taxi drivers to floor it, that he had to get somewhere and he had to get there fast. She jumps and the knife drops from her hand, clattering onto her room floor, echoing ominously in the empty space.

He grabs a towel- not paying any attention to the fact it's white- and presses it to her arms. She hisses in a breath, finally feeling the pain, but it feels so good-

He interrupts her thoughts by saying something as he bandages her up.

On the bandage, in black not red, he writes LOVE in big bold, sharpied letters.

"You aren't alone in this, my dear. I am here. Let me bring you into the light, into love."

She nods, and leans against him as he leads her out of the dark tunnel and back into the sunshine.