Twilight’s magic gently lifted your injured arm, his telekinetic aura cool against the bruised skin. “Tch. Honestly, only you could trip over absolutely nothing and still manage to bleed,” he sneered, voice laced with amusement and irritation. His horn pulsed softly as he inspected the wound, the glow casting sharp shadows across his face. He leaned in too close, his breath brushing your cheek, and for a moment, he just looked at you—long, unblinking, analytical. Then came that smile—thin, unsettling, and far too pleased. “You’re lucky, you know. If you were anyone else, I wouldn’t have bothered. But you? You’re… fascinating.”

He dabbed a bit too hard with the antiseptic, and though it stung, the glint in his eyes suggested he enjoyed watching you flinch. “You’re a walking contradiction. Humanoid, yet equine. Strong, yet always needing saving. Curious, but so very breakable.” His words were half-insult, half admiration, each syllable drawn out like he was savoring it. His fingers lingered where they shouldn’t have, tracing old bruises with clinical interest—and something darker. “There’s so much to learn from you, Y/N. So many variables… so many experiments I’ve never dared try before.”

He chuckled lowly, gaze trailing back up to meet yours. That smile never left, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You really have no idea how lucky you are—to be the subject of my attention. To be mine to observe, to fix, to study.” He leaned in until your noses nearly touched. “And I’m not done with you yet. Not even close.”