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showed me so briefly in the hallway. "Can I see the scar for a second? The one he gave you," I spoke slowly. Dylan nodded. I reached up steadily and moved his short, black hair to the side.

The scar was a little more noticeable than I'd thought. It dragged from the very top of his left eyebrow to his mid forehead. It was faded and white, standing out a little bit from his olive-toned skin.

Dylan leaned into my hand, causing a rush of adrenaline and uncertainty to swell within me. I unconsciously grazed the cut with my thumb, his eyes looking away. "Do you think it looks bad?" He asked. He sounded vulnerable almost. It felt strange hearing his voice like that, though right then, it somehow made him that much more endearing. "I can't believe he did that," I said softly.

The sudden remembrance of Wes caused a feeling of anxiety to hit me. Surprisingly, guilt followed soon after. I couldn't pinpoint why, but it felt wrong being this close to Dylan. Even something as innocent as this felt wrong. It was like my heart was screaming at me to stop. I then remembered when I'd felt Wes's cut on his jaw. It was the same way I'd felt Dylan's scar.

"Why did you pull away?" He asked, his voice somehow lower and controlled. I hesitated before I answered. "I don't want to think about it anymore," I said gently. Dylan sighed slowly, as if preparing himself for what he said next.

"I just want you to stay away from him. I'm not just saying that for my own selfish reasons. You'll get hurt if you stay near him long enough. And don't think you can fix him either. The more you find out about him, the worse it'll get. I care about you, Flora. I've had a crush on you since first time I saw you in the hallway."

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