105: YOU’RE KINDA HOT WHEN YOU NAG

Leaving the chaotic ballroom behind, we retreat to the quiet safety of our room. The tension of the night still lingers between us, though now it's wrapped in a cocoon of slight awkwardness.

William doesn’t say anything, still steaming with remnants of his anger, and neither do I, as we enter the bedroom and he shrugs off his jacket. I notice a few specs of blood staining the front part of his white shirt.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” I sigh, retrieving a first aid kit from a nearby drawer, sitting him down at the edge of the bed and gently begin tending to the cut on William's lip, my touch both soothing and reproachful.

He winces at the disinfectant that touches the small split flesh where the silver rings had made impact.

"Oh, now you can feel pain?" I chide softly, dabbing the wound with an antiseptic swab. "Stop being such a baby. I know you were defending me, but there are better ways you could’ve handled the situation."

Like poisoning the bastard.

Or gutting him in a dark al