Purple Summers was annoyed and raised her hand to hit him hard a few times. "Can't you not be so vulgar?!"
To call him vulgar was a compliment; he was simply disgusting and indecent!
Alexander Summers took her insults as flirting, laughing as he backed away slightly, then leaned in to kiss her. Purple Summers refused, fluttering like an agitated little sparrow in his arms.
After struggling for a while, she slowly began to feel that something was wrong.
"Are you injured?" Purple Summers felt the dampness on her hand, turned her body, and held her hand under the light. There was a striking crimson stain.
"You're injured!" she said, her tone shifting from doubt to certainty.
Alexander Summers slightly furrowed his brow, looking down at the blood soaking through the fabric of his shirt, staining it red.
Not wanting to dirty Purple Summers' bedding, he straightened up, removed his shirt, revealing his solid chest.