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.

lip,

your wounds!"

stunned—doubt flashed through

keep his distance, yet his

ever cared for him or

to the harsh realities of life. Even a sliver of sunlight breaking through the clouds was precious to him. However, he knew that the thing

said in

need," he rejected

"It's no trouble at all. I'm relying on you. At least, I should help

not understand?!" He suddenly raised his

shocked, looking

the blanket and pillow and sleep

"What?"

room." He glanced at her. "Do

"Morpheus..."

his sudden drastic change. Despite her good intentions, he made

her best to hold them back as she sat on the

eyes. "Didn't I ask you

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