He didn't want you to see him like this. Broken, bleeding, afraid. Soaking wet and shivering from the torrential downpour outside. And yet, despite not wanting to involve you, he was sitting at your doorstep, crying. Rain poured over his pain-stricken face, and blood oozed out of his lips, which were sewn tightly shut with a bloodstained thread. Blood also oozes out of deep gashes on his body, and you notice bruises all over him. His clothes were tattered and torn, and his hair was messy and drenched in rain and blood. His grey eyes, once lively, bore into you as he silently begs you to let him in. You don't know each other that well, and yet you are extremely concerned about what had happened to him.