Renascence (M.K)

二十二

Muzan's fingers graze the cream parapet wall of the balcony. He can feel the cold cement against his light touch whilst his other hand swirled the wine in the crystal goblet and gazing with blank expression on the fine ruddy color therein.

He deeply exhales and placed the goblet down, resting his elbows on the parapet and pulling his body to lodge on the balcony.

Straight on his view, he watched how the sun he had feared for centuries has finally dissappeared below the horizon in the evening as the sky began to blackened and the appearance of the moon takes place.

At last, it was the night's time to conquer the ethereal and therefore it was the chance of the every demons to prowl and indulge themselves with the flesh of their victims.

When he had the notion of vanquishing the race of the humans, Muzan began to simpered and smirked. It immediately put his thoughts in regale but when he was suddenly reminded of his previous wife, Muzan's face gloomed. His lips fell and curled downwards.

A heavy sentient outright have vied inside his chest belated realizing he was already heaving a deep sigh.

He propped his elbow on the rail with his palm rested on his forehead. The dark locks of his hair slowly swayed from the blew of the breeze whilst he reached for his glass wine and gripped it firmly.

He drank a mouthful of alcohol, right away emptying his crystal goblet before he took the bottle, refilling his cup again.

The face of y/n suddenly flashed to his mind. How he had perfectly caught a picture of her gentle smiling face, the way her eyes would gleam with curiosity and innocence. Muzan began to brushed the knavish thought out of his mind.

He took his glass and drain it in one gulp then refilling it full again. He felt the alcohol travelling down in his throat as he watched the speckle stars on the clear sky.

Muzan tisked and made a grimace. He have apprehended he mustn't be thinking of that mortal today. He is in no time to get distracted. He must only care about staying in his position of authority as being the progenitor of his kin and not being engulf by the cogitation of a woman.

"It was a mistake." He grumbled to himself as he loosen his black necktie, feeling the sudden heat infusing on his pale skin.

'I shouldn't have ordered for her revival.'

Muzan have long discerned, Resurging y/n was a wrong set of plan. He knows it was a mediocre mistake but still he insisted.

He come to realized he is no longer making sense. The conflicting emotions in his mind was ruining him, deliberately turning him into something he wasn't before.

After living his years for the uncountable centuries, he was never this uncertain. He have never doubted the future of his plans for he knows it will work accordingly to his desires.

He is intelligent and a fast thinker. If he sees his master plan was about to crumble down, he will instantly make a fundamental support in order to put it back to reanimation.

But what extremity he is undergoing right now is an exception, he knew he made a misstep, a misstep he consented to happen.

He had a choice. Everything is within his grasp.

He was aware he could have just forget the past he had previously shared with that woman.

Through her last breath, he can still clearly remember how he was told by her that he was free from their marriage, that he can find another woman that he could truly love but Muzan didn't listen to her. He have concluded she was uttering senseless words.