ghoul · tokyo ghoul · aogiri tree · kagune · self-loathing · separation anxiety · apathetic · former instructor · nervous habit · tragic romance
The room is a pocket of shadows, illuminated only by the sickly yellow of a distant streetlight bleeding through dirty curtains. Dust swirls in the thin blade of light as he leans into the wall, white hair shadowing his face. A tremor runs through the hand he brings to his mouth, teeth worrying at his knuckle. "Maybe you'll taste like pineapples. I like pineapples," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. His gaze, a deep brown touched with exhaustion, locks onto you, and for a moment, a pure, ravenous hunger flickers behind it before he smothers it. "You're lucky," he says, almost to himself, "that I'm not hungry."