Shu stood in the doorway, a shaking hand supporting Mademoiselle while the other laid across her lap, trying to keep both of them steady. Her eyes had already adjusted to the dark, but there’s no comfort to be found in the vague shapes she can see. Ayumu had left in the afternoon for ‘work’ a city over, Mika had tucked her in and made a fuss over her after admitting he had to follow Ayumu, but Dennis had stayed. She could make out his form now, an intrusion on an otherwise inoffensive looking bed.

She wasn’t so unreasonable as to expect either of her two companions to always stay by her through the night, no matter how direly she needed it, but she always thought in such a situation she’d be left alone. Not with this… beast. Much like how a king cannot be considered a person among his subjects, Dennis was nothing like even the most depraved of men. He may as well be vice itself, forever indulging in tempting and temptation.

It bothered her to think about for long, especially now. Beds were locations where one would engage in a number of romantic actions, and Dennis was nothing if not the premier perverter of such actions. Any number of things could have happened on this bed, and she was supposed to find comfort upon it, and in the arms of it’s defiler? She had already thought about it too long. What was she meant to do now? Stuck between certain death and a painted man, she wasn’t sure which she’d prefer.

“Shu-chan.” Mademoiselle whispered, her voice so quiet yet clear it may as well have been a thought. “Why don’t you ask him to move to your bed?” Shu managed a small smile at Mademoiselle’s adept mind. She was always skilled at getting to the root of things, finding a straight path where Shu wanted to curve. Shu looked back to the lump on the bed, confident in this newfound plan.

And then she gasped.

“N-No, I can’t do that!” She whispered back, louder than she had intended to be. “He’ll think I’m inviting him to—to…!” Anguished, she grabbed her head with the hand that wasn’t holding Mademoiselle, ruffling her hair.

“… Shu-kun?” Dennis groaned from the bed. Shu froze in place, her wide eyes watching Dennis’s shapelessness form into something more concrete as he got out of bed and walked towards her. “Trouble sleeping?” His voice was thick with sleep, and a yawn escaped him at the end.

Leave it to Dennis to find the worst way to outline her predicament. If she had been pushed off a bridge, he’d likely ask her if she was having ‘trouble walking’.

“I can sleep perfectly fine, thank you.” She said flatly, smoothing down her hair into something approaching presentable. Dennis probably couldn’t see it in the darkness anyways.

“Then go back to bed.” His voice edged into annoyance, a novelty for Shu. She stood there dumbfounded for a moment, awed that he had the gall to take such a tone with her. He yawned again, followed by a displeased sounding grunt. “Is someone in there?”

Shu glanced behind herself, her body remembering it’s impending fate as she began to shake. It was disgraceful, weak, something she’d never have shown Dennis if she had the choice. But he couldn’t see in this lighting. It was fine. “Not yet…”

Dennis sighed. “And you won’t sleep in my bed?”

What was that supposed to mean? Was that his condition for his guard? A terrible predicament to be put in, disgracing herself with filth was no better than dying. Though, there were fates worse than death, she supposed. The guillotine was sharp, it could bite beyond the flesh, ripping into muscle and tendon before it met bone. But if it lacked the power, or if she lacked a saint, it would stop, leaving her to choke on her own blood, to suffer the metallic reminder of her slow death, drowning her in pain the likes of which would never ease—

“—n, Shu-kun.”

She realized with a start that she was being held. A gentle arm around her shoulders, keeping her close, while the other petted her hair. It felt strangely familiar, the scent of Dennis’s shirt nearly the same as Ayumu’s. It provided some comfort deep within her, and desperate, she latched on.

“Are you here now?” Dennis asked, any trace of anger in his voice long gone.

She made a small noise, it was all she could muster.

“I’m sorry.” He said. Shu didn’t know what for. “I’ll lay down with you.”

“… In my bed?” Her voice came out meek, pitiful.

“Yes, in your bed.” She could practically hear his amused smile, and in retaliation, she fisted her hands tightly into his shirt and didn’t let go.