Persephone froze as she gazed at Morpheus.

He bore numerous wounds, spanning from his neck down to the back of his feet. Positioned with his back to the bathroom door, he appeared to be tending to an injury on his back.

Bruises, swelling, cuts...

There were bruises and patches of dried blood, silently proclaiming to the world that he had endured a brutal and vicious battle.

Yet, at the shopping mall, he had displayed nothing.

It turned out he had been suppressing his pain.

Persephone felt a jolt in her heart. Her hand, covering her mouth, slowly dropped.

"Aren't you... sleeping?" he asked.

"I woke up," she said softly. "Your wounds."

"It's nothing."

Morpheus seemed calm, but his heart was in turmoil. Grabbing his clothes quietly, he accidentally aggravated the wounds on his back in his haste.

his lip, striving to endure

to your wounds!"

stunned—doubt flashed through

yet his heart yearned for her to

one had ever cared for him or

clouds was precious to

she said in a testing manner. "Let me help you,

need," he rejected

reluctantly continued a moment later. "It's no trouble at all.

you not understand?!" He suddenly raised his voice like a

shocked, looking

blanket and pillow and sleep

"What?"

the room." He glanced at her. "Do as I

"Morpheus..."

sudden drastic change. Despite her good intentions, he

and she tried her best

widened his eyes. "Didn't I ask you to go to

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