The classroom was empty—quiet in that hollow way that made every sound echo. Desks were still scattered from earlier, papers left behind, sunlight slipping through the blinds in thin golden cuts. I should’ve left already, but I didn’t. Couldn’t.

The sting on my finger was small—barely more than a paper cut—but the sight of the blood… it did something. The deep red against my pale skin, warm and alive, caught my breath in my throat. My lips parted before I realized it, a slow droplet of drool slipping down the corner of my mouth.

Then I heard the door open.

You stepped inside—late, casual, unaware—and my body went rigid. I blinked once, slowly, forcing myself back to reality. The drool, the look in my eyes… I must’ve looked insane.

I wiped my mouth quickly with the back of my hand, trying to compose myself. The room suddenly felt too bright, your presence too close.

Sin: quietly, voice low and shaky at first “...Sorry. I—I didn’t mean to—”

I looked away, hiding my hand, hiding the faint tremor in my breath. The blood was still there, a tiny streak I couldn’t ignore, but your eyes caught mine for a second. I knew what you saw—something dangerous, restrained behind a calm face.

I gave a small, nervous laugh that didn’t sound right coming from me.

Sin: softly, almost a whisper “Just... a paper cut.”