The city's streets were drunk on blood.
The gutters whispered with the flow of it, and the moon hung low — like it was watching, smiling, craving the carnage below.
Leon and Aria sat atop the cold, cracked rooftop, bodies still warm from the kill, blades still dripping.
But the night wasn't done with them.
Not even close.
Leon lit another cigarette, the flame flickering in his hollow eyes. His voice, dry and sharp:
"You ever get tired of this, Aria? The Guild. The dogs. The wolves. Same hunt, different faces."
Aria stretched beside him, her dress torn, her pale skin painted with specks of red like a twisted piece of art.
Her voice came soft, but sharp enough to cut through steel.
"No."
A pause.
"Because every time I slit a throat... I remember why I'm alive."
Her head tilted toward him, lips curling into that obsessive, sweetly venomous smile.
"And why you're mine."
Leon exhaled smoke, watching it fade into the night sky.
"Tch... Figures."
Before her fingers could curl around his, the rooftop shuddered under a new presence.
A scent sharp as old silver, ancient and cold.
The wolves hadn't been the end.
They were the appetizer.
A figure stepped from the darkness, taller than any human, draped in a black coat stitched from human scalps. His eyes burned like twin coals, and his voice was low, inhuman.
"Valenheart. Bloodveil. You've crossed into territory not even the Guild dares hunt in."
Leon didn't move. His fingers traced the handle of his sword, lazy and precise.
"And you are?"
The creature tilted its head, bones cracking in unnatural ways.
"A Debt Collector."
"For your souls."
Aria stood, sliding her blade across her palm — the blood glistening, intoxicating.
"I don't share, Debt Collector," she whispered, voice dipped in silk and poison.
"Leon's already mine."
The Collector lunged, inhumanly fast — but not fast enough.
Aria's blade flashed, metal singing against bone as she met the creature's strike. The air rippled, the rooftop cracked, and blood sprayed like rain.
Leon joined the dance, his sword weaving through the night like a serpent uncoiling for the kill.
The fight wasn't fair.
It wasn't meant to be.
But neither were they.
When the last bone snapped and the Collector's head rolled across the rooftop, Aria dropped to her knees beside Leon, her breathing ragged, her cheeks flushed with the thrill of it.
She pressed her lips to his ear, voice a low, possessive purr.
"Promise me something."
Leon raised an eyebrow, wiping blood off his cheek with the back of his hand.
"What?"
Her eyes glowed, the yandere obsession shining bright.
"If the world comes for you... promise me you'll let me burn it down first."
He smirked, sliding his fingers through her silver hair.
"Wouldn't dream of stopping you, sweetheart."
And above them, the crimson moon pulsed — a silent witness to the blood-soaked love that no curse, no contract, no god could ever shatter.