Ennui plagues the crestfallen devil,
who decides to find liberation
in seducing the angel.

b l o o d w i n e
the taste of forbidden purity is much sweeter

Long, lean yet masculine fingers reached out in front of him, grasping for the silver-embedded goblet. He brought it to his mouth and took a quick swig before pulling it away; licking whatever was left of the crimson-coloured fluid that stained his pale lips. He released a satisfied breath and leaned back on his velvet-covered chair, eyeing the vintage portraits swathing the walls.

A long chime rang through the dim-lit dining room and he gazed at the entrance door with anticipation as he crossed his legs.

A dancing gypsy leaped inside with grace, twirling a sheer blue sash around her with a certain expertise that could only be mastered after few years of practice. Eyes of prussian green met jaded scarlet and she continued her dancing with such vigour, hoping to bring those striking eyes to life. Her gold anklets clanked together, generating a soft bell jingle. With ease, she twirled around him, wrapping the sash around his neck and pulling it back with a sensual intimation.

He grunted and looked elsewhere.

But his desire for life kept him glued to the dancing girl. He bared his fangs subtly as his eyes roamed her body – from her neck, her firm breasts, and the long slender legs that flexed as far as she wanted. A growl erupted in his throat and with a silent, hand-gesturing command the entrance doors slammed close.

A vice-like grin shaped his lips as a ghastly form of a beast took place of his sophisticated humanly figure. And with ease and enduring swiftness, he pounced on the girl with hunger in his eyes and wet lips.

No one in town heard the ear-shattering screams that reverberated around the spacious mansion.

He wandered around the Town Square, curiously watching the lesser people walk the streets with baskets in their hands, looking through display windows of the bakery. Children gleefully played in the center of the square where a playground made of wooden platforms, save the slide and swing, stood proudly. Though old and seemingly worn out by its long-term life, it showed no signs of rupturing.

Enveloped by the shadows, no one bothered to take a glance in his direction as they walked past him.

He scoffed at their slow ignorance.

In spite of this, his eyes caught on to a young woman who had hazily stared at him in uncertainty, perhaps wondering if any one was even standing there. Beauty eyes of brown, traced upon with burgundy whirled with his hypnotic scarlets.

Then, suddenly, she breathed softly before turning elsewhere, now almost sure that what she saw was a deceiving image.

He smirked at the oblique innocence.

Not quite.

Blinking at the sun, he stepped out and revealed himself though causing not a ruckus. With the gracefulness of a cat, he found himself quickly behind the dawning of the present seraph before him, thoroughly interested in nothing more but the flowers that were being sold and presented in wooden barrels. His shadow loomed over her and facing the one who was causing such minor darkness was inevitable.

She squinted and stepped back.

"Hello."

An awkward smile graced her full, rosy lips as she looked on with an inquisitive stare, that of a child's.

An image floored his mind as his daunting gaze searched her own. He traced her jaw with his eyes and her lips. In his mind, he could see his fingers entwining with her own, the other hand reaching for her face and gently caressing the lips that were curved upwards. His own leaned down to press against hers as he inhaled her sweet feminine scent that wisped off her body. He studied her features, the curve of her neck to the voluptuous body that was her own. Oh, how he wanted to reach for her hair and entangle his pale hands with her cinnamon locks.

And no matter how much he desired to look at her as a whole, his eyes always drifted to her neck, ostensibly inviting him to draw her only breath of life.

"Sir, are you all right?" She questioned, searching his face for any sign of reality.

He shook his head lightly, her music-like voice stirring him awake from his reverie.

"Yes."

She let out a small, nervous chortle before she moved around him.

Before he could let the girl slip away, he grabbed hold of her wrist to keep her where she stood. He released her and cleared his throat.

"I would like to invite you to the welcoming ceremony at the Nibelheim Mansion for Lord Valentine. Will you come? It would be a delightful honor." His eyes glimmered.

"I … I don't think I could."

"Please. He would greatly appreciate your presence."

Moments passed as she thought the invitation over. Considering her hiatus from accepting social invites, she couldn't say she was into the idea. Looking into his scarlet eyes, she thought for a brief moment that a golden hue replaced it. She blinked and found herself nodding without her usual reluctance to dinner invites.

"I'll be there."

"Lovely."

She stared at her reflection in the mirror and leaned against the wall behind her, hands clasped behind her back. Why had she accepted his invitation? She couldn't remember. It was odd.

But because she had accepted, there was no time to turn her back. If a promise were made with words of her own, she would never deny those promises. Unlike one man she trusted, she engraved verbal promises in stone.

Without further hesitation in her getting prepared for the evening, she dressed herself in a spaghetti-strap red dress made of fine satin material. She lifted her hair into an elegant fashion and pinned it there.

She was ready.