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It is late night or rather early morning when Callum arrives at his flat in Mulberry Street which he shares with his cousin Eilidh. The Scottish student is still burning the midnight oil to finish some assignments she has put off for far too long. With one cursory glance, she notices some braces on above his left eye which compliments the bruise around his eyesocket.

'What happened to your face, Cal?'

'Ah dinnae ken, I was born this way, lass.'

'I mean the stitches, you smartass.'

'Ah, that. I had a disagreement with some Calgary rookie about the interpretation of rules, is all.'

Eilidh is fishing for the frozen peas in the freezer. 

'Here, put that on that thing you call your head. Why must you get into these kind of situations all the time?'

Callum just shrugs. 'It is part of my job. You should see the other guy. He needed a tampon up his nose and was bleeding all over the ice. Besides, chicks dig scars and glory lasts forever.'

'Will you manage to get to your room without killing yerself?'

'I will try, Eilidh. Nite, cousin. You really should not postpone your work that long, you'd have the weekends off.'

'Ah haud yer wheesht. Sleep well.'

 

 

 

 

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