…The blasted son of a gun’s flickering. I couldn’t find words to respond and instead chewed my lips tenderly. Kamian, with an observant gaze fixed on my face, moved closer, narrowing the distance between us. With each movement, a refreshing fragrance wafted in the air.
His hand, holding a towel, gently brushed against my hair. It was distinctly different from my rough hands that were used to wiping away moisture.
“Let’s finish drying your hair.”
Unconsciously, I swept my fingertips across the scarred skin on my left neck. I hadn’t expected to perform it today.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
“…”
Kamian’s resolute response nearly made me pass it off as inconsequential. Kamian, when drunk, was excessively honest, and I, with a quickened pulse, was consumed by desire. If I were to perform the ritual on a day like today…
“It must be done.”
He said firmly.
“You mustn’t refuse. Absolutely.”
It was an obligation that any human contracted with a demon should fulfill. I knew that, but… a subtly uncomfortable sensation pricked at my chest.
What should I say… It was similar to the feeling of when the neighbour’s dog, who used to give me treats and fawned over me, bared its teeth in the presence of its owner. No, it was like having the same hobby and being assigned to the same group for a semester-long project, except for me… No, that’s not it either.
I couldn’t accurately describe it in words, but if I had to express it, it was akin to a faint sense of betrayal that stabbed my heart. However, I understood that this was an emotion only I felt, and I could never impose it upon the other person.
“Very well.”
I replied nonchalantly. Yet, my mind remained as tangled as before. Why did my soul yearn to exploit me as if it longed for my demise? It was as if it eagerly desired for me to die.
There were times when one could simply let two weeks pass, yet Kamian had never once refused the ritual since he was young. If that’s the case, he should have never confessed his love for me. It was a complete inconsistency between words and actions.
As I silently grumbled with discontent, time slipped away unnoticed. Kamian pushed the damp towel to the side and combed my hair with his hands.
I rejected his cautious touch. Harshly tucking my hair behind my ear, I plopped onto the bed. Kamian followed suit, sitting beside me. The bed tilted under the weight of his presence.
“Now, do it.”
I tugged at his clothes until his rounded shoulders were exposed. However, as I lowered my hand to undress him, Kamian remained oddly motionless.
“…”
“Why aren’t you doing it?”
His persistent gaze, as if he were about to lunge at me any moment, clung to the nape of my neck. After fifteen years of doing this, it wasn’t as if I suddenly felt embarrassed. I tilted my head slightly in the opposite direction and pressed my neck against Kamian.
“Now.”
“Let us use our fingers today.”
“Why? They say fingers have less blood, so the soul doesn’t bind properly.”
“Let’s use our fingers.”
Kamian pulled up my clothes and firmly grasped my waist with his large hands. He brought a pillow and placed it against the headboard of the bed, leaning my back against it.
It seems we won’t be lying down today. When we were still not adults, we exchanged blood like this every day.
Recalling those memories, I extended my index finger. Kamian wrapped his hand around my wrist and slowly brought his lips closer. His red eyes closed gently, and his well-defined red lips met my fingertips. It was like the innocent kiss of a saint devoted to God. His lush eyelashes moved slowly, revealing blood-red irises. Suppressing the fierce desires, he masqueraded as obedient before the beloved absolute, like a devil in disguise.
I was captivated by his blind yet passionate gaze. There seemed to be no way to escape his gaze, as if I was cornered by an impassable wall.
Kamian slowly parted his lips. When his warm breath touched my fingertips, my shoulders trembled. His strong teeth lightly grazed my flesh, and the moist and soft flesh of his lips enveloped my finger.
“Ah!”
The sharp fangs pierced my skin, causing a sharp and piercing pain. A throbbing heat spread rapidly through the wounded area, and the blood vessels pulsed madly.
“It hurts.”
Kamian applied pressure with his lips and sucked on my finger. As soon as I saw the swollen jugular pulsating prominently, an indescribable shiver ran through my entire body. I couldn’t tell whether I wanted to escape or if I wanted him to press my finger deeper.
“Ah…”
Kamian suddenly withdrew his finger from his mouth. In the penetrating moonlight, his hand covered in saliva and blood was clearly visible. Blood gushed out from the punctured skin, creating a crimson path that flowed down to my wrist.
His red tongue slowly began to lick the blood. His eyes, still fixed on me, did not release their grip. For a moment, I even felt the illusion that it was not blood entering his mouth, but that he was devouring me whole.
“…Kamian.”
…The blasted son of a gun’s flickering. I couldn’t find words to respond and instead chewed my lips tenderly. Kamian, with an observant gaze fixed on my face, moved closer, narrowing the distance between us. With each movement, a refreshing fragrance wafted in the air.
His hand, holding a towel, gently brushed against my hair. It was distinctly different from my rough hands that were used to wiping away moisture.
“Let’s finish drying your hair.”
Unconsciously, I swept my fingertips across the scarred skin on my left neck. I hadn’t expected to perform it today.
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
“…”
Kamian’s resolute response nearly made me pass it off as inconsequential. Kamian, when drunk, was excessively honest, and I, with a quickened pulse, was consumed by desire. If I were to perform the ritual on a day like today…
“It must be done.”
He said firmly.
“You mustn’t refuse. Absolutely.”
It was an obligation that any human contracted with a demon should fulfill. I knew that, but… a subtly uncomfortable sensation pricked at my chest.
What should I say… It was similar to the feeling of when the neighbour’s dog, who used to give me treats and fawned over me, bared its teeth in the presence of its owner. No, it was like having the same hobby and being assigned to the same group for a semester-long project, except for me… No, that’s not it either.
I couldn’t accurately describe it in words, but if I had to express it, it was akin to a faint sense of betrayal that stabbed my heart. However, I understood that this was an emotion only I felt, and I could never impose it upon the other person.
“Very well.”
I replied nonchalantly. Yet, my mind remained as tangled as before. Why did my soul yearn to exploit me as if it longed for my demise? It was as if it eagerly desired for me to die.
There were times when one could simply let two weeks pass, yet Kamian had never once refused the ritual since he was young. If that’s the case, he should have never confessed his love for me. It was a complete inconsistency between words and actions.
As I silently grumbled with discontent, time slipped away unnoticed. Kamian pushed the damp towel to the side and combed my hair with his hands.
I rejected his cautious touch. Harshly tucking my hair behind my ear, I plopped onto the bed. Kamian followed suit, sitting beside me. The bed tilted under the weight of his presence.
“Now, do it.”
I tugged at his clothes until his rounded shoulders were exposed. However, as I lowered my hand to undress him, Kamian remained oddly motionless.
“…”
“Why aren’t you doing it?”
His persistent gaze, as if he were about to lunge at me any moment, clung to the nape of my neck. After fifteen years of doing this, it wasn’t as if I suddenly felt embarrassed. I tilted my head slightly in the opposite direction and pressed my neck against Kamian.
“Now.”
“Let us use our fingers today.”
“Why? They say fingers have less blood, so the soul doesn’t bind properly.”
“Let’s use our fingers.”
Kamian pulled up my clothes and firmly grasped my waist with his large hands. He brought a pillow and placed it against the headboard of the bed, leaning my back against it.
It seems we won’t be lying down today. When we were still not adults, we exchanged blood like this every day.
Recalling those memories, I extended my index finger. Kamian wrapped his hand around my wrist and slowly brought his lips closer. His red eyes closed gently, and his well-defined red lips met my fingertips. It was like the innocent kiss of a saint devoted to God. His lush eyelashes moved slowly, revealing blood-red irises. Suppressing the fierce desires, he masqueraded as obedient before the beloved absolute, like a devil in disguise.
I was captivated by his blind yet passionate gaze. There seemed to be no way to escape his gaze, as if I was cornered by an impassable wall.
Kamian slowly parted his lips. When his warm breath touched my fingertips, my shoulders trembled. His strong teeth lightly grazed my flesh, and the moist and soft flesh of his lips enveloped my finger.
“Ah!”
The sharp fangs pierced my skin, causing a sharp and piercing pain. A throbbing heat spread rapidly through the wounded area, and the blood vessels pulsed madly.
“It hurts.”
Kamian applied pressure with his lips and sucked on my finger. As soon as I saw the swollen jugular pulsating prominently, an indescribable shiver ran through my entire body. I couldn’t tell whether I wanted to escape or if I wanted him to press my finger deeper.
“Ah…”
Kamian suddenly withdrew his finger from his mouth. In the penetrating moonlight, his hand covered in saliva and blood was clearly visible. Blood gushed out from the punctured skin, creating a crimson path that flowed down to my wrist.
His red tongue slowly began to lick the blood. His eyes, still fixed on me, did not release their grip. For a moment, I even felt the illusion that it was not blood entering his mouth, but that he was devouring me whole.
“…Kamian.”
