A knocked shook the back kitchen door, Myung jumped from the barstool. His body stood firm, shielding Gabriella, as he assessed. She shrank behind him, her pulse racing at his whipping reaction. Looking over his shoulder, she noticed a woman behind the glass, waving at them. She was dressed in black and red, adorned in small chains slinging in various patterns across her body. Her lips were painted black and a thick layer of eyeliner raced over her eyes as well as additional places on her face etching out different symbols. Her hair was white like Raith’s, but didn’t hold the same silky shine as his; rather, it was lackluster and dull as if it had suffered too many bleaching attempts and jetted out in eight different directions from her head in spiky points. She was obviously from Dé
