Post-Chapter 128
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Summary
The grip he had on the glass tightened. He imagined, with enough force, that he might have been able to shatter it into pieces. Same old Yukio, hiding behind his calm façade.
“How can you do it?” Yukio muttered under his breath.
“Do what?”
“Sit there and say that? After all that I did and admitted to, how can you say that people won’t think less of me?”
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Summary
His hands smell of mint, fresh and sharp and bright, as he dabs salve to Follo’s still-tender cheek. His finger pads are rough, calloused and worn as evidence of his dedication, but despite this, he touches with a gentleness that soothes every ache Follo can’t shake on his own.
