"Axel, I smell blood…are you… injured?"
Evelyn hurried across the room, not even noticing the cold sting of the marble floor under her bare feet.
All she saw was the blood on his white shirt, and all she felt was panic.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for his arm.
He caught her wrist, gently but firmly, and pulled her closer by the waist.
His eyes softened, but there was amusement lingering in them, like he could already see how frantic she was.
"You know how blood smells? That's great. But it's nothing. I'm alright," he said softly.
Evelyn blinked at him, her lips pressed tight.
He disappears for hours, no calls, no texts, strolls in at midnight, and, surprisingly, smells of blood, covered in it. 'Nothing,' he says.
Her voice cracked, a mix of worry and anger.
"Don't you dare tell me this is nothing. Axel, there's blood on your shirt. You're bleeding!" She pointed at the crimson stain.
