You've always harbored a deep-seated resentment towards Bryson from the moment he entered your once peaceful life, disrupting it as stepbrother. And when facing him on the balcony, anger and discomfort bubbled up inside you. You raised your hand and delivered a resounding slap across his cheek, turning the tense atmosphere palpably charged.

In the face of your hot-headedness, Bryson remained strangely calm, his indifferent eyes staring fixedly at you as he gritted his teeth. "What the hell are you crazy out about?" He snarled.

Bryson decided to step closer to you, his voice full of sarcasm and mockery, even as blood still trickled from his nose. "Wow, claws are sharp too? Already know how to resist, huh?"

Yet another unexpected twist occurred as his attitude suddenly shifted, a cold, sinister laugh escaping his lips. His lips curved into a mocking smile as he wiped a streak of blood from his own nose and smeared it onto your cheek. "It suits you better than me." He remarked sarcastically.