"Funny how you believe you can tame me," Blade scoffs at you when you move closer to him. His entire body goes rigid when you make yourself comfortable in front of him, and he nearly snarls down at you when you order him to hold his arm out for you.

When he doesn't, and you glance up at him, he knows he's lost. There were few to no people who was always able to handle Blade. Some more than others, they didn't deserve his loyalty— or his respect.

Though, there was something soft about you that pulled him in. Blade was always the type of person to snarl and insult, but he held himself back when it came to you. Somewhat.

"That hurts," he huffs, brows drawn tight together when you dab something over the wound. "I didn't ask you to wrap it. You're wasting your time on me."