'machine that lets me read people's minds'? i can't even read yours
pairing: venus (psychopomp) x reader
Real world tip: Your coworkers are not real. Your boss put them there to keep you company while you lose your mind!
venus as requested!! i dont think i captured her pre-awakening self all that great but it was fun to write :P
“Hey, are you, like, okay?”
Vena’s attention snaps over to you. She had been taking drag after drag of her cigarette, right down to the butt, and now the ember was burning dangerously close to her fingers. You were already on your third, with her only on her first.
“Fine!” She says, but her wide, hollow stare tells a different story. “Just fine.” Her jaw is clenched so hard it’s a miracle her teeth haven’t been expelled from her mouth.
“You out of cigs? Want another?”
“Uh - no, I-I have some.”
You absentmindedly reach out to fix her collar. Work had just been let out, which meant you and your peers could finally, after a grueling 8 hours, abandon the squeaky office chairs and buzzing lights overhead in favor of some fresh air. Ironic, considering your daily after hours smoke break you took with Vena. You heard that only 10% of smokers actually get cancer from smoking. You mentioned this to Vena. At the time, she thought it was funny. Recently she had found the thought rather frightening. Uncharacteristically so.
“What’s up with you today?”
Vena brings the lighter to the stick between her lips, but doesn’t light it.
“Um,” she starts, as if to begin a sentence.
“Don’t know.” Her cigarette is swiftly returned to its spot in the carton. It’s almost full. She runs her hands through her blond hair. It certainly did not look brushed today.
“I just, er…There’s…” Vena’s hands wring themselves together. Your eyebrow raises with a slight head shake, a silent, well?
“I have to get home. Gotta. Do stuff.”
“It’s only 5:10.” You frown. “Stay a bit longer. Stuff can wait, right?”
Vena frantically shakes her head. “I have to go.”
Your mouth falls open, and your hand raises in protest. Vena is already scurrying back to her car, which, as of late, had been parked as far away from the building as possible.
“Are you going to that - that meetup at the bar later?!” You cup your hands around your mouth after abandoning your cigarette. Vena barely spares you a glance - no answer. “Well, okay…”
Your coworker was always a bit strange - dark sense of humor, weird routines, that much everyone knew. But in the past 2 weeks it’s almost like she had seen or heard something that had been plastered in the front of her mind indefinitely. An eldritch horror? Did someone die? Surely not. Shifty eyes, riddled with paranoia, excessive nail biting, too many coffees? Nobody knew. In fact, you weren’t sure anyone had actually noticed how off Vena was acting. You thought to bring it up, but then your evident affinity for the strange blonde would only be affirmed, much to your chagrin - and to the delight of your coworkers.
You didn’t suspect she harbored anything towards you in particular. Being the oddball she is, it was apparent she acted the same way towards everyone else as she did you, though your peers would beg to differ.
You sighed. What a stupid thought!
That night you passed up the bar on your way to Vena’s house. You hadn’t told her you were going over. You supposed it was a bit rude to just show up to someone’s house uninvited, especially one you hadn’t known for the better part of a year, but who could turn away a guest with gifts?
The clock read 7:30. More than enough time for her to do whatever it was she did when she was home. Come to think of it you’ve never quite seen any hobby-ish items around the couple of times you’ve been there. Her bedroom was quite plain, personal bathroom a bit messy. Nothing that had really screamed, ‘this is my personality and I’m going to plaster it all over my apartment’. Perhaps she didn’t find pleasure in personal hobbies, but more so in external interactions.
You pondered this thought as you slammed your car door shut. So much for a surprise.
The curtains inside briefly swish open, then are quickly shut.
“Bad timing…?” You mutter, trudging up the steps to her door.
Before you can knock, the door swings open, a hand darts out, latches onto your arm, and drags you inside. You almost drop the bag of food.
You squint, trying to adjust to the interior. There are no lights on except for the ones in her bedroom, and every window has been shut off from the outside world.
Vena is but a faint figure in front of you. You can’t see the way she’s grinning, or the object that’s on her head.
“Look.” Her silhouette becomes clearer as she directs you to the overwhelming washed out light. Her vice grip hasn’t once let go of your arm.
“What’s going on? Why’s it so dark, and…what the hell are you wearing?”
Vena presents herself with a flourish, once you can see her. She dons a helmet, almost like the ones you’ve seen in war movies, yet this one is…decorated. A radio dish and antennas stick out from the top, while the lower ends are adorned with strange flags.
“This is it,” she beams. Vena trembles with what you presume to be excitement. “It’s done.”
“What is ‘it’?” You back away, but Vena’s arm shoots out to keep you in place.
“I call it,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “‘Machine that lets me read people’s minds when I want to’”.
“No, I mean…” You gesture vaguely. “What’s it? For?”
“Well,” Vena begins, pushing past you to retrieve something from the kitchen, and you watch with great concern and mild interest, “I’ve discovered that everyone has been keeping one big secret from me, so I made this helmet to read their minds.”
You raise your brows. “Oh? How did that work out for you.”
“It didn’t let me read their minds,” Vena drawls, “But I do know there are catacombs under every government building now, and I’m going to make sure I explore every last inch of them.”
“Yeah?” You can’t quite tell if she’s joking or not. Who would let a joke like this go on for so long? “Um…like an escape room, or?”
She turns, now wielding a hammer.
“I don’t understand.” Vena advances towards you, but you’re confident she’s not going to use the hammer on you. Rather, her hand extends to touch your hair, and her eyes turn just the slightest bit thoughtful. Maybe she’s thinking thoughts. You, strangely enough, don’t find her action unusual or even repulsive. “What are you talking about?”
“You don’t understand,” she pants, a nervous smile growing on her face. “But I do. I understand everything!”
Vena presses her cheek - or rather, the side of her helmet, against your face. The metal is cold. You shiver, but not from the steel. She pulls back, gaze raking over you once, twice, thrice. Inspecting you, like an athlete would a trophy.
“Catacombs full of creatures, secrets, everything that I didn’t know about. From now on–” Vena releases you and prances towards the door, failing to address your very awkward presence in her home, “–I will not allow any more secrets to be kept from me, or you.”
The door swings open. You aren’t fast enough to stop her from bouncing through the threshold and into the night.
“I’m going to fix this. Don’t you worry!”
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