Azren's wounds had been treated by the young idol. It was quite a surprise because Michy knew how to treat a wounded finger. Michy looked like a pampered young master, but he didn't feel disgusted when he had to clean the blood from Azren's finger.
For some reason, the idol's expression looked warm when he was treating the assistant's wound, and it warmed the assistant's heart as well. If only he could pause the time, then he would do it.
The first aid kit was idle on the table again, and now the two men sat side by side in silence. No one was speaking, but the atmosphere didn't seem to be suffocating.
Azren's gaze remained on the broken phone on the table, while Michy's remained on the marble floor. Their gazes were directed towards two different objects, but both of them knew that they were thinking about the same thing.
