Viola
The sound of breaking glass has me on my feet, but it’s Morgan’s wail in my head that has me pounding on the bathroom door. When Sebastian doesn’t answer, I just pull it open. He’s sitting on the cracked edge of the tub, holding one fist in his other hand. Blood drips loudly onto the tiles between his feet. The mirror lies in piece on the counter.
I crouch by his feet, reaching for his hand. He pulls it back, doesn’t look at me. From what I can see, his knuckles are split, but his hand doesn’t look broken. I’d have to get him to let me touch it to be sure, though. It doesn’t look like that’s going to happen anytime soon. I want to scold him, want to rage at him, but I don’t. I don’t say anything for a long time.
“It will heal quickly,” I finally say, but he shakes his head.
“No,
