"Do you want me to destroy them all?" Detlaff whispers and runs his nose along the curve of your neck, slowly inhaling the scent coming from your skin. You cover your eyes when teeth, sharp and dangerous, playfully close on your earlobe.

No, it doesn't hurt. It's just nice to the very goosebumps. Strong hands close around the waist in a tight ring, pull back, forcing you to press your back to chest, feel the cicada brooch with your shoulder blade. "Do you want to?"

And the breath is lost only because of how rolling and velvety the question sounds from these lips. War is not what Detlaff needs. The war is a bridge on which they both stand on different sides. But Van Der is ready to pass the crossing without hesitation, ready to destroy anyone you point at.

It’s difficult. it's too responsible to hold someone else's soul in your hands. And it's too scary to realize that your own heart doesn't belong to you anymore.

You often wonder what it's like for Eretein himself. Detlaff is wide open in front of you. Vampire is at your feet — like dog. And he deserves to be reciprocated with the same reckless, self-destructive reciprocity. His love is too attractive and desirable for your own feelings not to rush to meet it, ignoring all the warnings of reason. And there's nothing you can do about it.

That's why you turn around, hug Detlaff by the neck and press against his cold lips. You whispers without taking your eyes off the piercing eyes infront: "Yes."

Detlaff responds to the kiss. And you know for sure that the very next day the north will drown in misery.