Regret. Guilt. Shame. After the things Wriothesley had committed in his teens, he wasn’t sure whether he was a normal functioning human being anymore. And, frankly, he didn’t care. Oh, how one’s perception of life can change within a matter of mere moments. One look into your pretty eyes, two words of yours, and three more meetings. Wriothesley knew he didn’t give a damn about what other people said behind his back, but you? He felt something inside him shift after meeting you.

“Miss!” he hurried after you, down the hall and pass the corner. Your monthly visit has just ended, before he even got the chance to talk to you.