Pain bloomed in Davil's shoulder, hot and sharp, but he didn't flinch. His body remained steady, a solid barrier between her and the man with the gun.
The attacker froze, his hand trembling as the mask hid his face. Panic overtook him, and without a word, he bolted, disappearing into the street.
Giulietta gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as she stared at the blood staining Davil's crisp white shirt.
Her heart raced as she rushed from behind the counter toward him.
"Oh my God! You're hurt!" she cried, her voice rising in alarm. "I need to call for help–"
He stopped her, grabbing her hand before she could dial. His touch was firm, his voice cold and unyielding. "Don't."
Her hazel eyes, wide with fear, searched his face. "But you're bleeding–badly!" she protested, tears welling up as she glanced at the crimson soaking his side.
Davil smirked despite the pain, the corner of his mouth lifting in a teasing tilt. "It's just a scratch."
Her gaze snapped to the wound, her voice trembling with disbelief. "Don't lie to me! That's not a scratch. I don't even know you, but I don't want you dying here–"
"Aww, come on," he muttered, wincing as he leaned into her for support. "I just took a bullet for you. A little gratitude wouldn't kill you."
Her cheeks flushed, but she focused on applying pressure to the wound, her hands shaking as she worked. "Oh my God, you're losing too much blood. You're–you're going to pass out! Somebody, help! Help!" she screamed, her voice breaking with desperation.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she cradled him, her fear palpable.
He looked up at her, his vision hazy, and for a moment, the pain dulled.
It was her warmth, the softness of her hands, the light in her tearful eyes, that distracted him from the icy grip of death.
Funny, he thought bitterly. He'd never imagined anyone would cry for him, much less someone so radiant, so full of life.
As his body grew cold, and darkness threatened to take him, one thought burned brighter than the pain in his shoulder:
If he survived this, no one, no one, would ever lay a hand on her again.