Chapter Twenty-Five

Allysa’s POV.

“What do you want to eat?” Randall asked as he paused beside the bench. Before I could answer him, he led me to sit and placed the paper bags beside me.

“Let’s apply some ointment on your face first,” he said, opening one of the paper bags and taking out a bottle of cream. The scent of lavender wafted through the air as he unscrewed the cap, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort in his presence.

Randall's fingers delicately traced the contours of my swollen cheek as he applied the ointment. His touch was gentle, his movements careful. As he worked, the silence between us was filled with the sounds of the district: distant traffic, the murmur of people passing by, and the rustle of leaves in a nearby tree.

“I never wanted you to get hurt,” he said softly, his eyes locked onto mine. There was a sincerity in his gaze that melted away the coldness I had sensed in him before.

I stared at him for a while, his deep raven-black eyes looking at me deeply as if tryin