Baby leaned against his locker, blankly staring at the floor, his fingers slowly scratching the helmet in his hands.
He was shocked, embarrassed, and even scared.
"What did I do?" He murmured, frowning slowly.
He had just walked out of the shower in the locker room because he had typically run out of the apartment that morning without showering.
He had woken up with sore muscles and a hangover, but he disregarded it, already used to feeling hungover. He planned to go about his day as usual until suddenly, a certain memory burst through his mind, and that was when Baby realised that from that moment onward, nothing would ever be usual for him, as long as Saint Kross lived.
"Fuck," he muttered in disbelief, lifting in hand in front of him and staring at it like he was seeing it for the first time.
"I... I touched-fuck!" He threw his helmet against the wall, and the sound of hard plastic bouncing off the wall pierced the quiet locker room.
