Serein recoiled at once, both hands shooting up to shove at Deimos's face, forcing him away as her own twisted into a grimace of pure disgust.
"Ew?"
At her look — as if she had just bitten into something rotten — Deimos reluctantly pulled her back with his shadows, crossing his arms and rubbing his chin in deep contemplation.
"…Didn't work? I followed the book exactly."
Still holding her arms defensively before her, Serein glared at him. "What kind of book teaches you to act that ridiculous?"
He didn't answer. Instead, his gaze drifted to the left. She followed it—and nearly choked on her own breath.
A wooden bookshelf stood there, packed with thick tomes, several of which bore familiar, horrifyingly recognizable titles:
Her Resistance, His Obsession. Mafia's Dark Desires. Claimed by the Darkness.
Serein almost coughed herself to death. She wasn't exactly a bookworm, but she had played enough visual novels to recognize that genre. Dark romance.
