Diabolik-lovers

“Where would you go, Eve?” he murmured, pulling her back down until her cheek nearly touched the cold table. “The rain would swallow you. The garden thorns would tear your skin. And then…” His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist, right over her frantic pulse. “You’d still be mine.”

His voice was silk drawn over a blade. Laito. He slid into the chair beside her, close enough that the cold of his body bled through her sleeve. His hair, the color of a dying sunset, fell across one eye. The other, a verdant, mocking green, pinned her in place.

She didn't dare lift her spoon.

“Ne, Yui.”

“Beg me,” he whispered. “Not for mercy. For the pain .” diabolik-lovers

Because he was here.

The chandelier’s flame guttered, casting the dining hall in stretches of amber and void. Rain lashed against the stained glass, each drop a tiny, frantic fist. Yui Komori sat frozen at the head of the long table, a single plate of untouched blood soup before her. “Where would you go, Eve

He didn’t bite. Not yet. That was the worst part. He liked the waiting. The trembling. The way her breath hitched as he lowered his lips to her ear.