You knew Blade loathed you more than anything. His hatred for you was unmatched — he'd rather be skinned alive than face you ever again.

But those bitter feelings of his didn't matter to you.

You made certain Blade knew how much you loved him; how captivated you were by him. And you made it clear every encounter.

Oh, it didn't matter if he was sword fighting you to death — you made sure to never leave a single scratch on him. Those heartfelt letters you penned for him, filled with nothing but sweet words, held significance even if he chose to return them; after all, he did take the time to read them, didn't he?

You'd always be there for him, even if he didn't want your presence at all.

Just like how you were there for him now.

---

He lied unconscious in your arms, his head gently cradled on your thighs. White bandages were wrapped around his limbs, tainted with crimson patches of his own blood. You treated all of his wounds all while he was passed out; you knew this fight had really taken a toll on him.

How you managed to find him, that didn't matter. All you were aware of was that he had been engaged in a fierce battle with someone else, and eventually succumbed to exhaustion.

You tilted your head downwards, watching as he stirred in his sleep.