His hair was draped at either side of your head, hiding you in a curtain of ebony while those black eyes carved from oblivion stared at you.

“Poor little doll,” he uttered apathetically.

He looked over you, pinning you down to the floor. It would’ve been romantic if he wasn’t sent to kill you. The both of you being on the balcony of an abandoned palace and all.

Illumi’s eyes gave away nothing as he teased the skin of your head with a needle. “Hmm… you’d make me a wonderful doll.”