Laito’s smile was a crescent of sharp white. “Liar. I can hear your heart. It’s pounding like a caged bird.” He reached out, one pale finger tracing the collar of her dress. “You’re always so deliciously afraid.”
The air changed first—thickening with the scent of antique roses and copper. Then came the sound: the soft, deliberate click of a heel on the marble floor. She didn't need to look up. She knew the cadence of that walk. The predator’s patience. diabolik-lovers
“Ne, Yui.”
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. Laito’s smile was a crescent of sharp white
“You’re not eating.” He leaned in, his breath a ghost against her throat. “How rude. Mother made that just for you.” It’s pounding like a caged bird
She didn't dare lift her spoon.
“Beg me,” he whispered. “Not for mercy. For the pain .”
