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

me tend to your wounds!" Persephone suddenly

was stunned—doubt flashed through his

distance, yet his heart yearned for her to

for him or

sliver of sunlight breaking through the clouds was

in

need," he

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

understand?!" He suddenly raised his voice like a

was shocked, looking at him

and pillow and sleep in

"What?"

He glanced at her. "Do as I

"Morpheus..."

drastic change. Despite her good intentions, he made her

tried her best to hold them back as she sat on

his eyes. "Didn't I ask you to

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