She tried to stand, but his hand clamped onto her wrist. Not painfully. Worse. Possessively.
“Ne, Yui.”
“You’re not eating.” He leaned in, his breath a ghost against her throat. “How rude. Mother made that just for you.” diabolik-lovers
“Where would you go, Eve?” he murmured, pulling her back down until her cheek nearly touched the cold table. “The rain would swallow you. The garden thorns would tear your skin. And then…” His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist, right over her frantic pulse. “You’d still be mine.” She tried to stand, but his hand clamped onto her wrist
The chandelier’s flame guttered, casting the dining hall in stretches of amber and void. Rain lashed against the stained glass, each drop a tiny, frantic fist. Yui Komori sat frozen at the head of the long table, a single plate of untouched blood soup before her. Possessively