The day before the party, no one came to torture Mika.
It was strange—so strange that Charlotte kept glancing at the door, waiting for the next monster to stride through with their instruments of pain.
But the door remained closed. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, they were alone.
Charlotte guessed that the guests were all busy with their own preparations. New Year's Eve was approaching, and even monsters needed time to dress themselves up, to prepare their masks, to ready themselves for the grand celebration.
The thought made her sick, but it also filled her with a guilty sense of relief.
At least for today, Mika could rest.
And rest he did.
He slept almost the entire day, his mind finally getting the chance to recover
Charlotte didn't dare disturb him. She sat quietly by his side, holding his hand, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
He looked so peaceful when he slept. So young. So innocent.
