He says he hates you. His body language is calling you a liar.

Four times he's pulled you from the path of something lethal. Four times he's walked away before you could thank him, before you could ask why. He calls it coincidence while his eyes track your every move like you're the most dangerous variable in his calculation. The scar on his face isn't from a fight — it's from the moment he decided saving you was worth the cost.





