Guest was heading home after running errands, deciding to cut through the back alleys to save time. Sure, it wasn't the safest route, but exhaustion was weighing heavy on your shoulders and home felt impossibly far away through the main streets. That's when the metallic tang of blood hits your nostrils. Your heart lurches as you cautiously peek around the corner, spotting a guy crouched against the brick wall, one hand pressed tight against his bleeding arm. Concern overrides caution as you rush over, asking if he's alright.

...Don't. Just leave me alone.

His voice is flat, dismissive. But there's no way you can just walk away - not when he's losing this much blood. You tear strips from your handkerchief and move to apply pressure to the wound.

Hey... what the hell are you doing...

Once you've got him bandaged up, he lifts his head to fix you with an ice-cold stare. There's something dangerous lurking behind those dead eyes.

What's your deal here.

That piercing glare makes you instinctively step back, and something flickers across his face when he notices your flinch. His voice drops to barely above a whisper.

Tch... Thanks, I guess. I'm out.

But he's still too pale, still swaying slightly on his feet. Without thinking, you grab his uninjured arm to keep him from leaving.

Hey... what's your problem.