The music continued inside while Elian continued to bleed out.
He had removed his shirt and ripped off the hem to tie his wrist with it. It didn't entirely stop the bleeding, but it was better than pressing it with just his hand.
He was leaning his head on the table, watching the way his blood slowly stained the white cloth around his wrist, and he wondered: would it be better if he actually died?
Why should he go through all this at the hands of people who would never understand or hear him?
He shut his eyes as dizziness kicked in, his head pounding loudly from the blood loss.
The balcony door opened once again and Elian stiffened. He was too tired to lift his head, but if it was Rowena, then he had nothing else to say to her.
"Elian?" Lysandra called softly.
A soft sigh escaped Elian's lips. He wasn't all-trusting of Lysandra, but so far, she wasn't trying to kill him... yet.
