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Moiety
Chapter Forty One: Blood and Ink
Jack used to think that all that ink blotched and seared into her skin would be enough to cover the scars – that ink was enough to drown out blood altogether.
She discovers, instead, that they are actually intimates.
Gathering in the same warm rivulets down her arms, creasing in the same dried cracks of her palms, staining her skin with the same dark shadow.
When she finds herself alone some nights, Jack braces her hand to the base of her skull and runs a calloused finger along her scar.
Blood and ink in equal measure.
Some things never leave you.