wriothesley knows you like him. he does too.

he’s currently in his private gym, training his boxing skills with punching bags.

he finishes his fourth set and takes a deep breath before staring at his scarred hands and arms.

“god…how do i tell them?” he continues to look at his calloused hands.

“i don’t wanna hurt them by telling them it won’t work. i’m too busy with my boxing career.”

he groans and punches the bag once more, getting a notification on his phone.