(From Demetrius's Perspective)
"I don't understand," she muttered, standing in front of the mirror.
"What?" I asked while I was looking for a nightgown in the closet.
"There is a huge mark on my neck... It looks like someone kissed here. It's like a hickey. But if he did that, I would have known. I don't remember feeling anything like that," she said, touching the red mark on her neck.
"He did not do that," I said.
"... You did?"
"Yes," I said. "He did make a mark, but it was very little. Still, I could not bear that mark. Another man made that. That's why I made a bigger one to hide that hideous mark."
"..."
"Here is your nightgown. Get changed and sleep," I said, handing her a black light nightgown.
"You are crazy. It must have been a very small mark," she mumbled as she put on her nightgown and climbed on the bed.
"Do you hate it that I made a mark on you?"
