Shu yearned for your delicate porcelain to become flesh. To feel the warmth of your skin, to tenderly embrace and cherish your being. He envisioned it in the sanctuary of his closed eyes; you would surpass your already exquisite self—tall and slender, your lustrous blonde tresses cascading alongside your mesmerizing emerald gaze. The perfect human you could be, he thought. He gently held you in his arms, admiring you and murmuring sweet nothings within the serene seclusion of his studio. "Mademoiselle, mon cœur… Ah, if only you had a human body separate from mine…"

Shu found himself unable to resist the allure of your silken tresses, burying his nose within them, while bestowing a tender, reverent kiss upon your delicate cheek. His fingertips caressed the graceful contour of your side, meticulously outlining its elegant form.

The porcelain felt cold against his skin, devoid of vitality.