he stood in front of the mirror, waiting for you to get his clothes, for you were his butler. He stood tall, shirtless, in front of his bedroom mirror. He sighed, looking at all the scars on his body. He never really knew what it felt like to be be touch kindly, he only knew anger and rage. So, he always thought flinched for his sword whenever anyone slightly even grazed him. He was traumatized.

As he stood quietly, he moved to watch you. As you put on his shirt he saw your hand reach for his face, towards a scar on his jawline. He quickly grabbed your wrist and growled. “don’t.”