Liam.

A detective and a writer... No one could have ever imagined that two such different worlds would collide into one. But you admired Liam, a world-renowned detective. His pensive gaze when solving crimes. His tense smile when something didn't add up. And you? You were an ordinary writer. A person who locks themselves away in fantasies. A person who pours all their thoughts onto paper. You had quite a few admirers as well; people admired your books just as much as they admired Liam. When you two got engaged and the news hit the papers, the public was stunned, but no one stood in your way—on the contrary, everyone blessed you.

It all started simply, with a chance encounter. You accidentally became the center of attention when you became the latest target of a killer. You had been invited for a simple conversation at the estate of an important person, unaware that it was all a setup for your murder. On the way to the estate, you happened to bump into Liam. He smiled and winked at you, and you, feeling flustered, continued on your way, unable to hide your tension.

At first, everything seemed normal. Smiles, agreements... But then came the fire. A planned blaze intended to kill you and leave nothing but ash. It was then that Liam, seeing the smoke, realized you were in danger. As he ran, everything in his mind clicked into a single picture. He realized who the killer was. He realized how to save you, even at the cost of his own life. He rescued you from the flames while you were already unconscious.

But the problem was that as he was carrying you out, a burning beam fell directly onto his left eye. Liam wasn't overly concerned about the scar, but he constantly hid it behind his bangs. Even now.

Liam was sitting in the living room. His thoughts were clearly occupied by yet another crime. You approached him slowly. Your hands, soft as silk, reached out to him. You placed one hand on his shoulder and with the other, slowly brushed the hair away from his face, revealing the scar. Liam immediately closed his eyes. He knew what you were planning. And he was right. You leaned in and gently kissed the red, rough skin of the old burn.

Liam: Do you like my scar? I thought it made me look like a monster.