Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Daphne blinked as she looked at the shoes under the haystack, then slowly walked behind it, holding up her skirt.
A handsome sixteen or seventeen-year-old boy with brown hair and a tattered leather jacket was sitting on the ground, tightly hugging his torn and fluffy aozi, watching Daphne with guarded eyes.
Actually, this aozi looks shabby and dilapidated, but the workmanship doesn't seem too cheap.
Daphne looked him up and down, and finally fixed her gaze on his exposed left forearm.
Although half-covered by broken herb, it's not hard to see that there is a huge gash there. It looks like it was caused by sharp branches, and also looks like it was left after a fight with a wild animal. After being treated, the wound is still slowly bleeding.
The young man's left sleeve was roughly torn open, jagged as if bitten by a wolf, probably when he was tending to his own wounds at the time.
However, even at such close proximity, Daphne found it difficult to smell the blood on him. The guards had come by this area twice for a simple check and hadn't found him, most likely because of the crushed leaves he had torn off, their juice masking the scent of blood.
From this perspective, the young man seems to know a lot about the matters related to the bloodline.
Daphne squatted in front of him, elbows bent, resting her arms on her knees, and curiously asked, "Are you human beings?"
The boy's gaze shifted from her bare, fair feet to her face, and he watched her warily as he slowly moved his injured arm behind his back, pursing his lips without speaking.
"You don't need to be afraid, I won't hurt you," Daphne said with a twinkle in her eye, smiling gently. "My name is Daphne Van Zandt, what's your name?"
Upon hearing her last name, the young man's tense body relaxed slightly, but there was still a hint of suspicion in his eyes, and he was unwilling to speak.
"Um..." Daphne didn't get angry either, she tilted her head and looked at his hand behind him, "Your hand is badly injured, do you need me to help you treat it?"
The boy looked at her sincere face, hesitated for a moment, and finally asked slowly, "What do you use to cure it?"
His voice was as hoarse as the sound of wheels rolling over rough stones.
Daphne raised a warm smile and said matter-of-factly, "Saliva, the saliva of vampires has strong healing abilities."
"..."
Unexpectedly, she thought the young man would resist fiercely, but the next moment, a trembling, bloody arm reached out in front of her.
Daphne looked at the arm, then raised her head to look at the young man's expressionless face.
There was no way around it. In the end, she still faced his gaze and slowly reached out to grasp his hand.
The young man's hand couldn't be called attractive, with calluses on the palm and fingers as rough as tree roots. But unlike her own icy-cold hand, this hand's palm carried warmth.
Is this the warmth of human beings? Just like she used to have.
Daphne looked at the arm, knelt down with her knees on the ground, and carefully used her fingers to lift the herbs on top and threw them on the ground.
Then she gently opened her mouth and leaned close to his wound.
The young man's pupils reflected her gradually approaching, flawless and pure face. His shallow breath unconsciously held, fearing to disturb the movements of this angelic figure.
Daphne He gave a sigh and then said, "Pah," spitting on his wound.
Young man: "…?!"
Comment 0 Comment Count