“Eyes up, Koibito ,” she laughed, and flicked his forehead.
She melted out of the shadow cast by a rusted water tower. At first, she was merely a silhouette—an impossible curve of hip and shoulder, the cascade of violet-black hair that the artist theobrobine renders in such sinuous, electric strokes. Then the moonlight found her. yoruichi by theobrobine
Then she dissolved into shadow, leaving him alone in the moonlight, the ghost of her touch burning through him like a brand. “Eyes up, Koibito ,” she laughed, and flicked