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Summary
Having turned first kiss, first night, first love into this mess, Zanka Nijiku closed his eyes and sighed.
Something between him and that boy had gone seriously wrong. He reflected for a long time, tried to shift the blame for a long time, and in the end still came to a conclusion that Rudo was a poison dropped from the sky, which he had placed under his own tongue—so of course it would take effect.
A beautifully packaged poison, wrapped in transparent candy paper, sweetly toxic.
Zanka exhaled slowly. Between searching for an antidote and swallowing another dose, he made a choice no normal person would. So perhaps he was destined to be poisoned—like the fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty, at seventeen he was fated to prick his finger on the spindle and spill blood that connected straight to the heart.
