"i already did." unclasping a bloodied hand, there was a lacerated, mutilated eyeball with a pink iris in it. "i'll cut the next one to match if she touches me again!" tossing it down on the ground as it splattered, benihime's nose wrinkled up.
a faint pink flush creeps along the edge of his surgical mask, creases in the thin paper deepening as he smiles demurely underneath it. “please, princess ---- i can’t allow you to walk around with blood on your hands.” he bows stiffly, stepping forward with one hand outstretched and crushing fornicarás’s eyeball under one shoe as he does so. ( let the bitch suffer. )









