10. Your muse walks in on mine crying and attempting to bandage a large wound.

A wound like this, reaper or not, needed professional treatment. But there wasn’t time for that. And how would he explain it? There was no good excuse for a gash of this seriousness. They’d know he was lying. 

Besides. He needed his arm stitched up – and now. 

In a heap, doubled over and crying because of the pain, Eric administered the stitches himself. As he first drew the needle through his flesh, he nearly screamed. The second was even worse. Bit by bit, he stitched up his own arm, fingers curling until his knuckles were wait and blood pooling beneath his arm.