''I'm sorry," Corbyn said breaking the awkward silence. I turned my head and looked over at him. "I saw your wrists, and I just feel bad, and I don't know what to do." Corbyn rambled on. "It's okay." I said. "It doesn't feel okay." He sighed putting his head in his hands.
They're both broken, but they help fix each other piece by piece.
1K on 7/3/18