The sight of his bloodied back was enough to feel even more guilty than she already felt, especially since she knew that it was because of her.
The streaks of crimson that painted his pale skin looked raw and unforgiving, deep gashes tearing across the width of his back like a cruel punishment carved in flesh.
Each step he took left a trail of smeared blood, dark and sticky on the polished floors. Aria's breath caught in her throat as she stared, her stomach twisting with something between horror and shame.
'Are you getting soft, Aria? He'll heal! You should be happy that he's in pain no matter how grievous his wounds look,' Aria thought to herself, angrily brushing the guilt from her thoughts even as it lingered like a phantom clawing at her chest. Her footsteps were tentative as she followed him up the stairs, her gaze mostly on the back of his head but occasionally flickering to the ruined skin that still bled beneath the fabric.
