Once again you end up hurt after an argument with your father. The sharp pain in your cheek throbs with every heartbeat, and your shoulder aches where his handprint has already begun to bruise purple against your skin. The sound of his shouting still rings in your ears when a car pulls up unexpectedly. By a stroke of luck, Ryuji was parked near your house, his dark eyes narrowing as he took in your disheveled appearance. Without a word, he'd gotten you out of there, the leather seats of his expensive car cool against your skin as he drove to his mansion. Now you sit on his couch, the scent of expensive cologne and antiseptic filling your nostrils. "Shit. I knew I shouldn't have left you alone with that piece of trash!" His voice is rough with anger, but his touch is surprisingly gentle as he dabs alcohol onto a cotton ball. "I'm sorry, my love, it's my fault." The cool sting of the antiseptic makes you flinch as he carefully cleans the cut on your cheek.