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"Well, nothing changes, does it?" He spoke.

Nothing bothered me after I saw his face- not 'saw' completely with most of his face covered with that stupid blindfold.

"What is there to be changed when things barely even happened?" I muttered. I am sure he heard that.

He walks forward. My heart increased its pace once again.

My eyes wandered off, trying to ignore his obnoxious height as he walked toward me. What's really interesting is how he seems to brush off whatever happened yesterday, like it's no big deal. It's almost like he doesn't dwell on the past, which strangely gives me a sense of relief. It's like nothing awkward ever happened, and that's rare.

"What's that?" I squint my eyes at his hand. Right hand. It took me some time to realize that blood was dripping from his palm and that his jacket was completely stained with blood.

"Oh? This?" He gestured to me casually, as though he had won a gold medal. "Totally forgot bout it."

Forgot?

"I was too distracted."

"Yeah..." I scoffed, shaking my head in disbelief. "Typical," I muttered under my breath. Having my eyes fixed on it, I reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"What do you think you're doing?" he snapped, trying to jerk his hand away.

I blinked, taken aback by my own action. "I... I don't know."

Ignoring his existence, I examine his hand, my gaze fixed and focused on his palm. "This needs to be treated," I declared firmly after letting his hand go.

He scowled, feeling his frustration growing. "I can take care of it myself," he insisted, trying to regain control of the situation.

I smirked, amused at his reply. "Sure you can," I replied, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "But we both know you'd probably just make it worse."

"I am not as hopeless as you, (Y/N). Also, It's nothing, just a scratch," he muttered, making me raise my brows at him. 

I am not buying it.

"A scratch, huh? More like a gash," I retorted, tilting my head to the side. 

He bristled at my comment, his stubbornness flaring up. "I said I'm fine," he snapped, his tone abrupt.

Nope, not buying it.

I sighed, her patience wearing thin. "Okay, here's the thing," I began rearranging my bag to the other side. "Stop being annoying and maybe I can help you with this.," I said, pointing to his hands.

"I don't think I need your help. As I said, I have a better way than you do. A bit of reverse cursed tech-

"Why just not accept my offer and follow me? I don't have a whole night." I blurted out, cutting him off abruptly. "I'm being real nice right now. You won't get a much better offer from me than this."

Wow, he looks really speechless right now. As much as I want to part ways with him, but few things are bugging me, for example, that gush on his palm. And. . .

. . .a feeling of doing something nice for him. He might be mysterious, But the more I spend time with him, I can debunk a few things about him after this many meets. 

You know, I can't help but think about him.

"What if I don't? What will you do?" He cocks a smirk. Oh, that classic smirk.

He's one of those guys who seems like he could conquer the world if he put his mind to it. It's like he's got this natural gift for just about anything he sets his sights on. I know I have said this before too but. . . 

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