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    Summary

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    Kafka fixated on the bloodlust in that young man’s eyes. He was used to being teased by the vice-captain, and pitied by him like a lost puppy. He considered Kafka nothing more than a comically desperate man with nothing to lose anymore. That smug little smile really pissed him off sometimes. Being given a chance at the defense force was his only saving grace. But words are useless to describe what Kafka truly wants.

    The truth re-enters his mind, “He was prepared to kill me.”

    And yet, if he could get that close to Hoshina again, feel that warm body up against his… Touch him; his skin. Dragging a thumb from his cheek to his soft lips. Lacing fingers up into his deep lavender locks. Pulling the two of them even closer…

    Hoshina.

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    Language:
    English
    Words:
    31,573
    Chapters:
    6/?
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