Aesther sat down on the sofa.
It was a dark room with all the curtains drawn down and the lights snuffed out. At any moment, there could be a swarm of ghouls returning to destroy what remained of the city.
The air was tense.
Ezrahl lifted her leg, examining the injury with an intent unreadable gaze. There were two neat bite marks around her ankle, oozing dark poisoned blood.
"...it's not healing on its own," Aesther murmured, fealing a little uneasy by this position, "W-wait, you can leave it—"
But as soon as she tried to move, he pushed her back down on the sofa.
Ezrahl sternly held her, and removed her shoes in a swift gesture. As the leather parted from her ripped flesh, a dull pain throbbed and made Aesther flinch.
"Don't resist, it could be worse." He calmly said, pulling down her socks.
"I…"
A sharp pain climbed over her leg and Aesther couldn't help but shrink back.
