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“You’re torturing me,” he huffed to himself, watching you walk on by.
Diluc’s vermillion eyes did nothing but stare, eyeing your legs as you waltzed about. How we wanted to make you his, to put you in the place you belonged; beneath him.
“It’s what you deserve,” he told himself over and over, trying to convince himself you were meant to be his- to be in his grasp.
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