The butterfly will lie dormant on the rotting eyeball, gently sucking the aqueous fluid, like a gentle kiss, comforting the loser, so gentle and cruel.
My dear, this is not engulfment, but assimilation. We will be together forever.
He heard whispers and smelled old wine, spirits, tea, or just wet rain. Was it rain? It's just rain.
He received a rose, soft and delicate, freshly picked and stained with scarlet rainwater.
To you, my butterfly.
He heard whispers again.
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1V1, disease attack × disease reception, developed in the next year
Intention: love