“Bruises and scars suit you,” she told him with an insecure smile and brushed away his hair from the open wound, her fingers offhandedly caressing his skin. The new intimacy thrown upon them felt like fate, and she didn't know how to handle it. “But the blood doesn’t,” she continued, chuckling nervously, not quite brave enough to look into his piercing eyes. They could see straight into her soul, she was sure, and she wasn't ready for him to see that part of her. But he didn’t answer her, didn’t cease looking at her as she worked to restore his messed up face, and she could sense the hostile tension around them both. His whole being trembled and shook with an intensity that almost scared her. They would always be enemies, no matter her gentle teasing and light words.