Wyatt Wright looked at her, his eyes carrying a clear, shallow light that flickered with shadows, "You did find yourself a good backup."
She didn't speak, just pursed her lips in a smile, her eyes quickly shifting as she glanced frequently at her sleeve.
The white hoodie she wore was not very dirt-resistant.
Before Wyatt Wright reached out, he hadn't thought much about it, and the hand he used to grab her sleeve was the one that was injured. The base of his thumb split open, a thread of blood emerged, seeping into her sleeve cuff.
The hoodie, made of a slightly fluffy fabric, was stained red, like a flower blooming in the snow.
"Sorry."
Wyatt Wright let go of her hand and pulled out a tissue, inexplicably wiping her sleeve.
As a result, the mung bean-sized red spot blossomed, turning into the size of a broad bean in an instant.
"..."
He was rarely so embarrassed, "I've dirtied your clothes."
The tissue used to wipe her sleeve was wrinkled and crumpled.
