Friday.
Most people would go out , have a drink , catch up with a friend or two , leave town.
She , however , observes. Even if her power is lesser as of late , it doesn't take much to take down a drunk asshole or a purse thief.
Delicate strands are seen when she closes her eyes โ crimson. Volatile. All attached to various parts of her body ; her soul.
Another blood transfusion , and one of those cords snaps. It hurts , but not enough to repent. Not enough for all she's done.