𝗣𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝘅 𝗚𝗡! 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥
━━━ your end will become my eternal damnation.
( tokimihyachi / 07.14.22 )
━━━ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: this book contains mature content in various forms. reader discretion is advised.
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CHAPTER TWO . OF BLOOD AND TEARS
content warning: excessive choking and implied dacryphilia (paraphilia/ getting aroused from a person's tears)
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⸻ WITH THE SOFT GLOW OF the furnace disappearing into a motley of crackles resembling a graveyard of fireflies, the frigid temperature of the room wedged itself into the crack of the walls and, by extension, your back that was pressed against it.
You've been trained for endurance, and weather such as this should have been nothing. Yet Snezhnayan winters were far different from the cold you've been accustomed to in all your eons of being alive.
"I assume you did not decide to visit here on a whim seeing your rather... peculiar attire," he said, not an insult, but as an observation.
"Excuse me, sir, for not fitting your standards of fine design. But mind you, this cloth is made of the highest quality and the bearer adds value to it." his grin widens ever so slightly at your remark.
"Well then, I shall be the judge of that." before you could question his statement, he had already reached for your hood, the fabric slipping to your shoulders in a swift motion.
The man has no shame, you conclude, when he drinks the sight of you and an inkling in your stomach is telling you to hide. You do not and instead stand there, waiting.
His smile does not falter, but his hold from your neck slackens. Your stomach twists at the supposition he's recognized your identity.
From your current situation, you've deduced a few things though they offered little to no help. First, this man who towered over you was strikingly handsome.
His hair, tied into a one-sided ponytail, was dipped in coal black, darker than oblivion but smelt of the wind on the seashore during twilight; cold, invigorating, resplendent. It was a great contrast to his face; pale, and devoid of any human warmth.
He not only looked expensive but was the epitome of the word itself.
This man was rich. Scratch that, he's filthy rich.
However, there was something about his concentration that unsettled you— it felt like he had donned his eyes with a loupe, scrutinizing every part of yourself; determining the clarity you had as if to assess whether you were a precious diamond or an odious rock he'd have no qualms with throwing away.
Second, he had quite a temper. Whether only around you or others included, you did not know nor care for.
He places his hand on your shoulder and you become optimistic that he might be kind enough to let you sit down. He does not make the offer. "Let us make this quick, hm? I have other affairs to attend to and I'm not fond of wasting time."
