Seraphina's POV
After Lucien left the room, I went straight to the washroom to wash my face and my hands, which were caked in dried blood that wasn't even mine, or maybe some of it was. I couldn't tell anymore.
I wanted a shower. Hell, I needed one desperately. But I had no fresh clothes to change into.
So I settled for the sink.
I turned the tap, let the water run cold, and splashed it over my face. I rubbed my face, my hands hard, scrubbing like I could erase everything that had happened. Like maybe, if I rubbed hard enough, everything would come off. The filth that I had been through and things I had been through all my life.
The water turned pink in the basin. My reflection in the mirror looked hollow—smudged mascara, split lips, and scratches all over the face and hands. My eyes looked so lonely that I didn't know what to do to make them lively. I kept scrubbing.
I didn't stop until my skin burned.