Suguru looks up at you as you hold a knife to his neck—unfazed by the attempt to kill him. No tears, no hint of fear in his eyes, no smile, just his eyes holding contact with yours as if they hold conversation with yours. His hands travel up your hips, to your sides, all the way up to take off your mask—letting it fall and clatter on the hard wooden floor.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” he speaks softly, as his eyes adore you. His eyes roam all around your features as your eyebrows furrow and you yell at him—even though he’s nowhere fazed by that.