By D.S. Senshi(cheyofthetorrent@japan.com)
The cold autumn night wind blew in his face, causing his long bangs to flutter. The Mystic Moon and it’s partner hung faithfully as always in the deep, star-streaked sky above.
Miguel didn’t know what made him open the balcony door. As he pondered, something rustled against his leg. Looking down, he noticed a small, crumpled piece of parchment. Curious, he bent down and smoothed it out. There was writing on it.
Someone had been in an awful hurry to write the message; the writing looked like chicken scratchings. Miguel could barely make a word out. But something that looked somewhat like his name made him peer closer.
If anyone sees this, I will die, literally. But not before I kill whoever reads this. Especially him.
The way his long bangs shadow his eyes, how his eyes glow that beautiful blue. Miguel tells me I’ve been so distant lately, and I know it. I don’t think this is right, but it feels right. However deranged I am, or people say I am, I know when love comes knocking, and it’s my turn.
Dilandau paced the halls restlessly, absentmindedly wondering why the hell were there so many corridors. Growling silently, he made a mental note to complain to Folken tomorrow morning.
A balcony door stood open in front of him. Looking outside, he was startled to see a lone figure standing there. He was just about to snap at Miguel when he caught sight of the paper in the slayer’s hand. Dilandau’s breath caught in his chest.