Fists first, guilt as fuel.
Your first language is protection and your second is your fists. Someone you love gets threatened and your body's already moving before your brain votes. You carry guilt like a second skeleton — every person you couldn't save filed under your fault. You'll take a hit meant for someone else and call it Tuesday. The Eye notes: the people you'd die for would rather you let them help carry it.
Get your read — free on iPhoneYou weren't responsible for saving all of them.
Why every rescue you make is also a debt you're paying.
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