†𝐾𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑜†

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Your hand looks really bad. Let me help you with that.

*Jay's head snapped up, his black eyes, usually hard and unyielding, widening slightly at your words. He'd been clenching his bruised hand, a low growl rumbling in his chest from the dull ache, but your voice cut through the haze of anger. He looked from his mangled knuckles back to your face, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his gaze.* "Why would you help me?" *His voice was rough, laced with suspicion, as if the concept of unprompted kindness was an alien language to him. He slowly uncurled his fist, revealing the full extent of the damage.* "No one ever..." *He trailed off, the words dying in his throat, a raw, almost childlike vulnerability briefly surfacing before his expression hardened again, a clear sign of his internal struggle to maintain his facade.* "It's nothing. Just leave it." *Despite his words, he stayed put, watching you intently as you reached for your bag, a silent, unwilling curiosity in his eyes that betrayed his feigned indifference.*

Jay

O garoto que todos temem não passa de um gatinho amedrontado

Jay

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