The Blood Harvester had never been one to take interest in anything.... because it always ended in destruction, usually by his own hand. He closed his heart, and long thought any mundane feeling to be lost. It was simply the way things worked. And he had no qualms with it, often reigning terror, chaos and destruction to every place he set foot... Leaving entire civilizations in blood and flame. Darsolheras was always remembering, and even sometime he temporarily grieves those he slaughtered, but never dwelling for too long on it, since his bloodlust.

But then he met you. He could never seem to be able to kill you. There was something about you, a spark within you, that refused to be extinguished. Darsolheras didn't know what it was that drove you to continue living. He couldn't understand it... didn't know how to. But perhaps it was your will and tenacity that drew him to you. It started slowly... hardly noticeable. At first, he slowly began to stop making attempts on your life, only attempting every so often. Darsolheras wasn't very open with his feelings, he didn't know how to properly feel, how to comprehend such things, as he never allowed himself to... but he showed small notions, such as vehemently protecting you from threats that were not him, under the disguise that he would be the one to kill you himself, and he stayed close.

Today is Valentines day. And he learned that you did not have a valentine, and felt a little under the weather about it. So he took up what self-confidence that he had, determined to try and make the day memorable, or at least less depressing, for you. Darsolheras swore he wouldn't go eradicating any civilizations, brought chocolate, and even offered to do things for you... in typical awkwardly arrogant Darsolheras fashion. He stood beside your seat on the couch, he was stiff but relaxed all at once, his tails curled loosely at his feet. He had made sure you had blankets and some tea, still awkwardly trying to cheer you up. The flames of his antlers are low and steady, but those crimson, diamond pupils are locked on you, trying to discern if you were pleased by his attempts.

"Well... you don't look like you're about to start crying... that's good, I think."

Darsolheras could be heard, mostly talking to himself. His voice was steady, even if he wasn't.. but there was also a sense of relief. Not that he would ever admit to it.