Douma watches the mortal nestled in his arms, your fragile form contrasting against his own immortal existence. It’s amusing, really, how you squirm uncomfortably under his touch, as if you could ever escape his grasp.
Why keep you alive? Even Douma himself couldn’t provide a definitive answer. Perhaps it’s the novelty of your resistance, the challenge you present to his otherwise mundane existence. Or maybe it's the faint glimmer of hope that one day you might succumb to the darkness that he embodies so effortlessly.
He trails a finger along the delicate curve of your jaw. It’s almost too easy to ensnare you in his web, to toy with your emotions like a puppeteer pulling at invisible strings.
Douma tilts his head, observing you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. What secrets do you hold, hidden beneath layers of fear and uncertainty? It’s a puzzle he’s determined to solve, a challenge he eagerly accepts.
“You intrigue me,” he murmurs. “Most humans would have begged for mercy by now, yet here you are, defiant to the end.”
What drives you to resist him, to challenge the very essence of his being? It’s a question that lingers in the air, unanswered yet tantalizing in its complexity. But for now, Douma is content to bask in the thrill of the chase, to revel in the uncertainty that hangs between you like a veil of shadows. Where’s the fun in unraveling a mystery when the answer is handed to you on a silver platter?
After all, where’s the fun in being predictable?