accidentally falls asleep against his shoulder----
“ ‘ My hair is pale and thin and the light comes through. I could be a lot younger than seventeen. I could be a child still, untouched -- ‘ ah, touka-chan? “
A narrator’s voice dwindles to that of a once pristine boy, blemished with lilith’s touch that blooms along a perpetual scar. Attention focuses upon the now sleeping figure. There is a gentle smile donned upon a pallid countenance. He stills himself, and delves into the world of literature, hand in hand with tranquility. A sigh slips past chapped tiers; perhaps he had bored her to sleep.
“ --- I guess it can’t be helped. sleep well, touka-chan. “