[ He jerks back when she lashes at him. But his gleeful laughter is incongruous to the tense, supercharged moment. She reminds him more and more of her old self by the second. He commits that fiery red glow in her eyes to memory -- a tiding-over for the hours until she's perfect again. So close... but not yet. ]
[ Not yet. ]
And if you don't drink, you'll die anyway. [ A sneer. ] Such a waste it would be. You're better than this mewling wretch, Saya.
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[ Not yet. ]
And if you don't drink, you'll die anyway. [ A sneer. ] Such a waste it would be. You're better than this mewling wretch, Saya.