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‧₊˚ ⋅ ꒰১ ᯓ ☆ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒛𝒛𝒍𝒆 of the rain quickly strengthened to an outright downpour just like that night, the boy hardly seemed to notice. Those blue moon hues could only stare at their kin, the SHOCK clearly visible on his face.
˚ʚ ☾ ɞ˚ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤWhat the hell was he SAYING ? Those very books; the relics that both blessed and cursed to their very fatesㅤ—ㅤhis brother really wanted BOTH of them ? !
˚ʚ ☾ ɞ˚ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤWhat would he even be WITHOUT that book ? Nothing more than some poor, defenseless orphan that could easily be snatched up and subjected to pain and suffering yet again. And with nothing to give back; not even the promise of STAYING with him and helping their family return to those happy days, what giving up the Book of Vanitas even WORTH IT ?
˚ʚ ☾ ɞ˚ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤThe answer was OBVIOUS.
˚ʚ ☾ ɞ˚ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ❛ㅤHow can you be so SELFISH ? ! You don't care about me or Father at all ! All you care about is your own stupid little self - righteous quest of erasing Father's existence and that STUPID VAMPIRE ! HOW COULD YOU ? ! ㅤ❜
˚ʚ ☾ ɞ˚ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ❛ㅤI'm NEVER going to give you the Book ! You're going to have to KILL ME if you want it so bad !ㅤ❜
˚ʚ ☾ ɞ˚ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤHe had been defending himself the entire time too; after all, it was Brother that had started shooting FIRST. He had merely been holding Etoilé back the entire time. But now . . .
˚ʚ ☾ ɞ˚ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ❛ㅤEtoilé, GET HIM !ㅤ❜
˚ʚ ☾ ɞ˚ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤㅤOn command, the metallic dog JUMPS; its sharpened steel maw ready to clamp down on ANYTHING fleshy and filled with blood.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ Vanitas, instead, had still only defended himself; but it seemed from the answer, Mikhail was throwing away the chance he had given him to avoid a sincerely unwanted ending. There was THE deep sadness in the depths of the brunet's eyes, and the blue moon would not leave him alone, indeed, it would not leave either of its two descendants alone, participating in the weeping in the sky. Streams of water began to tease the doctor, but there were more and more of them, and they came down ever stronger. In a moment, the rain went crazy, making a great roar as it slammed into its targets. Vanitas, who had never put the gun down, didn't seem to notice, even though, by dint of the blows, everything was sticking to him, his locks shining like dew-soaked leaves, his clothes, with his cloak still dropping from his right shoulder and his shirt fused with his candid skin.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❞ The dead do not resurrect, the comte de Saint Germain was only manipulating you. You are confusing reality. In any case, I cannot allow any more talk of it, nor, above all, can I allow anyone to stand in my way ·̲
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❞ Hand over the BOOK OF VANITAS to me ·̲
⠀ ⠀