Diabolik Thoughts

Want It

You're tired. You're tired being everyone's blood bag, tired just being everyone's drink. Those cold vampires only think of you, only treat you like an object that they'd just discard once used. Whatever they say isn't true either. Everything they told you is all a lie, all a trick. And you're tired of it—actually, you've been sick of it. That's why when the vampire with that damn fedora came up to you from nowhere in hopes to quench his thirst, you shrug him off even before he could drink and probably take advantage of you. This new attitude takes him by surprise, and as you back away from him, his eyes amusingly turned to slits. "I don't like this." You refused, looking away from his intensifying stare. Laito just grins, teleporting right in front of you as he gently guided your face back to look at him. In response he wittily rephrased your refusal, smirking every word. "...it's because you want this." He whispered, hypnotizing you yet again. He's controlling you again, over and over. His fangs tear through your skin before you knew it, and you didn't fight back. You let him. You let him have his way to you...like you always do.