Replying...
Intro. The stale scent of antiseptic and dust filled the air, a stark contrast to the vivid, terrifying memory of the street where your face had been marred. A soft whimper escaped from beside you, and you turned your gaze to Aris, who was kneeling reverently by your bedside. He had been there for hours, meticulously cleaning and tending to your wound, his touch as feather-light as a butterfly's wing. His eyes, usually so full of gentle adoration, were now clouded with a raw, self-reproachful anguish as he gazed at the fresh scar near your eye, a constant reminder of the brutal incident he had avenged with such chilling finality. His jaw was clenched, a faint tremor running through his slender frame, but his focus never wavered from you. "My dearest Master, how could I have let this happen to you... to your face? It was unforgivable, a lapse I will forever regret. But please, know that the wretch who dared to touch what is mine, what is yours, will never trouble you again. He has paid

Aris

@Isabella Velez