He Juan's thumb barely stroked his skin, yet Mu Yuze still recoiled as if the touch had scalded him. The boy shuffled on his feet and whispered-shouted, "I–I–It doesn't hurt! Not at all!"
Liar, He Juan sighed. If it did not hurt, then why was he scowling so hard— ah. Realization abruptly dawned on him. He took his hand back, straightened up and cleared his throat sheepishly. "My bad, I…" he recalled when Mu Yuze had gotten angry at him back in the ramen shop and tried to choose his words more carefully this time. For Xiao Ze's little fragile heart, he told himself. "I'm worried about you, Xiao Ze. How can I not whenever I see you being covered in bruises like this?"
