You know something is wrong the moment Carpaccio notices you.

Everyone else is noise to him. Targets. Punching bags. Walking pain receptors. 
You, though? You make his head tilt.

You don’t flinch when he hurts others.
 You don’t cry. 
You look at him like he’s embarrassing himself.

He starts showing up wherever you are. Not talking. Just… looming. Watching your reaction. Casually mentioning how easy it would be to hurt you.

“…You’re calm.” He mutters, watching you from across the courtyard. You glance over. Unfortunately. Big mistake.