d in her ears.

She began to question herself unconsciously: Could it be that her love for him was all along just for the halo around him, for everything that he symbolized?

Could there really be evil hidden behind this exterior of an archangel? Was he not as innocent as a lamb, as scorching as a blaze? Which side of him was the real him, and which side was truly a facade? These questions crept into her mind, sending shivers down her spine.

How strange it was, for at this moment she found herself recalling the shivers brought upon her by his fingers caressing her body in the past, and gradually she began to blur the line between these two sensations.

The imagery of blood and evil merged with the beauty of the person before her, enshrouding the girl in an inexplicable thrill that chilled her to the core, consumed by the waves of forbidden fantasies amidst the darkness of the night.

Thus, disgust transformed into pleasure, doubt into excitement, and fear into longing. Her fingertips, lost in a trance, repeatedly glided over his vermilion, slender lips, envisioning them stained with scarlet blood...

He still showed no signs of waking.

Quivering, she took a deep breath and, as if possessed, leaned down to capture his slightly parted lips, as if tasting the tang of blood, sending shivers down her entire being...