Diabolik Thoughts

Breakfast In Bed

You hate it when you're bedridden. Stuck in bed, sick in bed. Though you always tell the Mukami's that you can handle yourself, that you're fine, they dismiss you. Like the stubborn guys they were they wouldn't listen to you and lock you up to your room. Rest, each one of them strictly reminds you, rest, was all they want you to do. You never knew if that was caring, but everytime one of them would occasionally drop by to your room to check up on you, you'd feel it—their care. It's childish, and having those vampires take care of you like some baby for some reason cheers you up. They don't know if they're doing the right thing or not, and their faces, priceless. You appreciate it, at least they're trying. But among them, only one stands out. Only him. You find his breakfast in bed sweet, how every morning, first thing you'd smell, you'd see was his cooking and his beautiful face. It was thoughtful, he alone was thoughtful, and as the same familiar smell stirs you from your deep sleep, you knew that vampire has made effort, again. "Good morning, Eve." Ruki greeted, tray in his hands.