That was true. Kaito didn’t have to find himself recurrently walking inside her lab—seeing the brunette, serious-minded—as if she had a duty to stand inside no matter what. As if it were her problem, as no one else’s. As if she couldn’t stand to make it someone else’s problem. But if she didn’t bring it up, never said anything… how could anyone know? How could anyone be expected to tell what she was feeling? See, this is where Kaito would have to use his most prized ‘something’… a something he trusted more than anything—anything in the world. His intuition. That intuition inside him told him that Maki was feeling tired, tired of not just this killing game… but…
A heavy exhalation leaving his lips, he stretched theatrically and walked around inside the Assassin’s lab. “… Are you…” His sentence was stopped, as he picked up a weapon. It was… a knife, perhaps? A multi-purpose knife? He didn’t really know, he just saw it and decided he was curious enough to hold it in his hands. Perhaps the curiosity settled inside humans is what concerned Maki. “… you’re guarding this room.”
The words he spoke were assured, like he had a zero probability of being wrong. Truthfully, he wasn’t. Which was… the worst part. The assassin had a nearly unhealthy amount of obligation to make sure these weapons wouldn’t turn up in the wrong hands—yes, but… was that it? Perhaps there was more to the story. This room… had to also have been familiar. Kaito didn’t like to consider it. After all, when he stared into her eyes, it wasn’t like he was looking into the eye’s of someone cold-blooded. What he saw in those eyes—was someone in need of support.
“It’ll be fine if you leave it for a bit. Come on, you need to get out of here, seriously. It’s… not a good idea to stay in a place like this for so long.” A place filled with weapons—a place meant for an assassin to carry out her responsibility. “It’ll be fine.”
The darkness under her eyes… in her eyes. It worried him—she needed fresh air. Away from the atmosphere of killing.
she wanted to agree to his terms —- how badly did she want to escape with him to a place where she didn’t have to remember. a place where she wouldn’t be left with the harrowing memories that dared to haunt her forever. BUT THIS WAS NO FAIRY TALE. he may be a prince, but she was no princess.
the type of knife he held — bc - 41. a close quarters combat knife. one of her favorites. it was easy to wield, and the knuckles on it made for a strong punch. she almost wanted to take it from him —- he shouldn’t ever have to handle such a weapon, even if only out of ( such wretched ) curiosity. these were meant for the damned, but, he. —- he had a bright future.
‘ if you want to talk, we can talk in here. ‘ she isn’t looking at him. she’s scared of those violet eyes. those eyes that made her feel as clear as glass. as if he could see through everything she was hiding. he wasn’t going to win this time.
carekill-a reblogged this from astralheart
astralheart reblogged this from carekill-a
