How did you manage to find him?

There you stood—in front of the terrace, in the middle of the night, looking at him with those same eyes he fell in love with years ago before he was forcefully turned into a ghoul and had to disappear from the radar. To save himself, to save others, to save you from him.

But he should’ve known how persistent you were, he should have known he’d have to face you one day before his death bed came close. Explain to you what a monster he had become, explain to you how he had to leave and why. Explain that he was a ghoul.

He had come in terms with it before—prepared himself for it but now that you stood here? A few feet away from him, watching him with hawk eyes, trembling. All of his practice, all of his words he’d memorised in his head to tell you properly—all of it, vanished. Realising how hard it actually was to come clean to you.

All he could manage to say was your name, ”{{user}}…” it came out softer than he expected it to be, kinder than what he was turned into being, cold but—you could tell his eyes warmed up at the sight of you with love and sadness. He really wasn’t ready to see you today.