𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑑 𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑁𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟
A moan escaped his lips, tending to the blood on his face. He winced as he dabbed the tissue on his cheek, getting the blood off. Gawking at his reflection in the mirror, his blood boiled at how messed up his face was. Who was that man with her? And how did they know someone was following them? Did he make himself that obvious? He tossed the tissue on the table, accompanied by other blood-drenched crumbled tissues. He fixated his attention on his reflection as dozens of thoughts ran through his head.
"𝐷𝑎𝑚𝑛 𝑖𝑡!" He slammed his hand on his desk. His eyes stayed on his reflection, the bruises on his left cheek, temple and the end of his lower lip intensified the burning rage in him. His raging blood pounded in his neck and temples and he could feel his whole body throbbing. He balled a fist and clenched his jaw.
