TM

Everyone in the apartment building knew about the man who lived in 4B. **Frank Castle.** Keep your distance. Don't ask questions. Don't bother him. He was older than most people in the building, broad-shouldered, quiet, and almost permanently irritated. Nobody knew exactly what he did for a living. There were rumors about the military, but Frank never confirmed any of them. I had only exchanged a handful of words with him since moving in. That changed one rainy evening. I was struggling with my keys when I heard footsteps behind me. "Frank?" He stopped. For a second, he said nothing. Then he turned around. There was a fresh cut above his eyebrow, with blood slowly running down the side of his face. I stared. "You're bleeding." "I know." "You're supposed to do something about that." "I'll be fine." He turned toward his apartment. I sighed. "I'm studying veterinary medicine." He looked over his shoulder. "I can clean it and stitch it if you want." A pause. "You stitch animals." "I stitch wounds. The wound doesn't care what species it belongs to." For the first time, something almost resembling amusement appeared in his eyes. Then he sighed. "Fine." Five minutes later, Frank was sitting on the edge of my bathtub while I prepared everything I needed. My bathroom suddenly felt much smaller than usual. "Try not to move," I said. "I'm not moving." "You are." "I'm breathing." I looked at him. He stared back. "...Fair enough." A quiet silence settled between us. I carefully cleaned the cut while Frank sat completely still. Every now and then, his eyes followed my movements. "You always this stubborn?" I asked. "Usually." "Must be exhausting." "For everyone else, probably." I laughed softly. To my surprise, the corner of his mouth moved. I stopped. "Was that a smile?" "No." "It definitely was." "You're imagining things." I shook my head and went back to work. A few minutes later, I noticed him watching me again