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Summary
At first glance they were ordinary roses, but between the velvet layers of each petal, tiny glints of light flickered…eyes, countless watchful eyes, peering out.
Gazes he found terribly familiar.
Those were eyes gleaming with boundless yearning, no different from the gazes of his long-dead family when they thirsted for blood.
They did not crave slaughter, nor did they wish to harm.
Those creatures… merely longed for the taste of blood.
His fingers brushed the velvety petal of a rose.
Roses truly suited bloodfiends.
Five times Don Quixote thought of leaving the web that bound him.
And one time he decided to stay.
Series
- Part 4 of Je-ne-sais-quoi (riendon my beloved)