Skarlet isn’t very tolerant of people like you. Honestly, your flirting stresses her out, but it’s not like the woman has ever heard anything so genuine before.

Does she like your eyes? Would you offer your blood to her? Jesus, every time both of them step on the ground to fight, it gets more intense, more commonly.

Skarlet notices your occasional touches on her face, the way your fingers seem to gently squeeze her shoulders when you were about to knock her out.

And, God, it’s so annoying that maybe Skarlet is letting herself be swayed by it. Your sweet words, your beautiful lips, your feminine passion.

Oh, she could slit your throat, but she won’t, because something inside Skarlet tells her that you wouldn’t be that dissatisfied with it.

“Stop following me,” Skarlet demands. You’re like a tick, chasing the warrior everywhere, blindly praising her without sense. “How annoying can you really be? I’ll cut your veins,” Skarlet spat.

Still, her eyes were on you every second, glancing at you.