Their first kiss, and there was blood on their lips.
It was after another macabre battle, and he collapsed in their tent with a melancholic desperation in his black, unfathomable eyes
He needed another fire, one not ignited by the sparks on his fingertips, and found it in the moment his mouth closed over hers; he suddenly marveled at how red and metallic she tasted, how the chapped skin of her lips alighted more passion in him than all the other soft and pink lips of the countless other women he had encountered.
Only a comfort for the damned.
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Am I obsessed with Royai kisses? Well, maybe not that much. Hehe.
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