"You are not the only one who wants to treat someone well," I said, ignoring the pain his grip caused. He looked at me for a while. The flames in his eyes slowly dying and their color becoming golden again. He let go of my neck and looked down as if regretting what he had just done.

"You should... take your shirt off," I said.

Walking back to the bed, he ripped his shirt open, showing a perfectly toned stomach and chest. The muscles in his arm twitched as he lay down on the bed.

"Are you just going to stare?" he asked. Embarrassed I hurried to the bed, sat down, and started cleaning his wounds.

This was horrible. The wounds seemed deep and they would probably leave scars on his back. It must have hurt a lot. Was his family always so cruel to him? And I had thought my family were too cruel. I wondered what his childhood was like. Was he always like this? Rejected by his family, bullied and punished? He must have been so lonely.

"Why are you crying?" A tear fell down my cheek. Am I crying? Why? He sat up, facing me. "What is it?" he asked softly.

"Why did you take the punishment?"

"Because I can't let someone else get punished for what I did," he said, wiping a tear away from my cheek.

"Why did you even fight in the first place? Look what happened to you now. It must hurt a lot and you will get a lot of scars. I don't like seeing you get hit and I don't like your brothers." I said more tears falling down my cheeks. I hated this, it wasn't right.

"Are you crying for my sake now? You really confuse me, one time you are scared of me and the other one you cry because I am hurt, even though I hurt you just now."

I was confused myself, but I just didn't

more tears with

of me. He laid so our bodies were perfectly

eyes tightly and pressed my lips into a thin line. I don't know why I reacted that way, but instead of feeling his lips on mine, I felt them on my neck. My body went rigid, surprised by the heat that blossomed inside of me at the

escaped my lips and I dig my fingers into his back. He hissed in pain but continued kissing me in the same place. I felt wetness on my fingers. Blood. His wounds. I put my hands on

something wrong?" he

never finished cleaning your

doesn't hurt anymore," he said, pressing his lips on my neck again

was losing control. What if he doesn't listen to me? As if sensing my fear he stopped and let go

continue,"

cleaning his wounds in silence, I walked out of the chamber to let him rest. The

me. I didn't know that a kiss could affect someone so much. Ylva and Lydia would sometimes tell me about their passionate night with their husband,

long I was sitting, immersed in my own memories, but eventually, the sound of footsteps

are you doing here? You

to me. "It felt uncomfortable to sleep in the bloody sheets so I told the maids to clean them. Why are you

"I'm not."

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