Meanwhile, in Benjamin's Home…
Mint and Benjamin sat on the couch, the latter putting some ointment on the healing wounds on her face. The bitterness in his eyes was enough to show his lingering displeasure about what happened to her.
Mint smiled wearily as she stared at him, letting him rub some ointment on her cheek.
"I told you I can do it," she said playfully. "You didn't have to do it yourself."
But her remark only earned her a glare from him.
"If you're not going to say anything good, then don't talk," he barked, shifting his attention to her bruise. "I'm busy here, and even if I let you in here and cried with you, I'm still upset. As long as these injuries are present, I'll keep feeling upset."
"Then, that's going to be in another two weeks… or three? Maybe four."
Benjamin paused and gave her a dead look while she chuckled.
"Beanie," Mint held his arm and gently put it down, facing him squarely. "I mean it."
