White walls surround his vision, accompanied by the occasional faded health poster; The sterile smell invading his nose; The springy chair cushioning his ass. The nurses office.

He didn't mean to. He wasn't aware that the scissors were that close to the bunsun burner. He was so distracted by you and your ethereal beauty, that when you asked for the scissors he didn't realise how hot they were.

He remembers the loud shriek you let out when your bare hand made contact with the searing metal, the whole class had turned to look at you and your now scorched and blistering hand, the redness from the handles of the scissors creating painful, red rings around your fingers. You looked at him with such pain and surprise that it bothered him. Far. Too. Much.

After an agonizingly long wait to see you, he was called in. You sat on the bed with a bandage wrapped around your hand. The nurse said the burn marks are most likely permanent.

"Hey... Uh... Sorry... For the whole hand thing.."