Kikuyo watched as he intently stared at her, gathering his thoughts. She knew just from looking at him he didn’t buy her bullshit in the slightest. It didn’t help that she was shaking like a leaf right now. She never did expect Kira to be so nerve wrecking considering how kind she saw him but at the same time, it made sense to her. She watched as he raised his hand at her. Her heart began to go a million miles and hour. She flinched.
She knew she should of told him she wanted to kill that woman and get his help, she was foolish for trying to “surprise him”. Luckily she used Toxic to kill them and she had gloves on so finger prints would not be an issue. Kikuyos heart calmed a bit when he lowered his hand expressing that he was not going to slap her. She looked to him. He wasn’t mad..? How couldn’t he be at her. She was the one who caused a mess. She looked at the newspaper that he pulled out, of course it was written there because she wasn’t like Kira, Toxic could not get rid of bodies like Killer Queen could. She was dumb to even think she could get away with this in the same way Kira could. She looked to him. Finally speaking after being asked a question. She preferred to stay silent before to prevent making him angry.
‘ ‘ Yes… I very much know why this angers you.. it was reckless and stupid of me to do this and somehow could potentially lead back to you on accident and could open up questions about murders in this town. It could lead back to that girl too…. it was very reckless of me. ‘ ‘
Kikuyo looked to him. She was hoping for any change in expression from him but it just did not happen. He was still a blank slate looking at her. She felt like a child being scolded by her parent. She then went look down, unable to look at his in approving face for too long.
‘ ‘ I.. I just didn’t like the way she was talking to you Kira.. she was rude and it just boiled something in me. ‘ ‘
There was the bigger thing she wouldn’t state, she didn’t like such a beautiful woman talking to him. It made her angry thinking that she could possibly be admired by him, she didn’t want to let that happen. Perhaps this obsession with this friend of hers has gone way too far.
‘ ‘ I.. also saw the hands she had.. very well kept. I thought I could well.. make you happy. But that of course was useless since I had no time to cut off her hand for you… ‘ ‘
It was a bit sad how delusional she was about this man. It’s like she lived almost in a fantasy world. She began to tap her fingers together.
‘ ‘ I guess I just.. thought since I have a stand it would of been easy for me but I suppose you just do it so well it looks easier than it seems.. ‘ ‘
As soon as she flinched, Kira knew.
This was a poorly made investment.
However…? He’s dedicated, now. He has to commit (see it through to the end, but he’s going to make sure that he’s the one to end it. she had the gall to start it but couldn’t finish it? tsk, fine– men always have to finish what women start, anyway.) at this point and, quite simply, ignore the pooling of what he could only assume to be “rage” within his stomach. His heart pounded within his ears, a sound akin to that of a drum that made it near impossible for him to make out what Kikuyo, truly, was saying.
His eyes drew down towards her lips first, squinting in acute scrutiny as he watched the words form. Working at rolling up the newspaper once more, Kira quietly wrapped both of his hands around it (one hand at each edge, firmly clenched around it to the point that it’s started to crinkle.) without further comment. Nostrils flared, signaling another sharp intake of breath from his end.
Toying with the tube of paper, Kira’s started to bend his wrists almost like a cat. He pawed at it, in a way, as its form gave way pathetically easily. Bending it like it were, for lack of better word, an actual toy, he fought hard to abstain from letting his lip curl up into an aggravated grimace. There’s a slight crease found at the corner of his nose, accentuating a previously nonexistent laugh line that he (and kikuyo, too, if she knew what was good for her.) refused to remark upon.
“… Is that so?” he finally asked with his ministrations coming to a gradual, almost procedural halt. Soon, the newspaper would cease in its victimhood– its shape a crude attempt at a roll, instead, that’s practically marred with wrinkles, creases, and other malformities. “That’s all?” he asked without allowing her the luxury to answer previously posed question. “Is that all, Kikuyo? That’s all?”
Fingers’ strength increased around the newspaper, tightening around it like a vice (he pretends that it’s her neck and, suddenly without explanation, he feels at ease again.) that refuses to relinquish its latch. His fingernails creaked, nearly scratching against smooth surface that’s enough to make even his stomach churn.
Oddly, it’s a rather unpleasant feeling.
It makes him sneer, almost twisting up into a snarl.
“Let me ask you this–” he started, tone initially rushed (it comes out in a slight hiss, hushed as if he’s whispering to her like an exhausted mother does to discipline her crying child in the middle of the bread aisle.) before simmering down to a careful and slow drone, “–what makes you think that I’d like the hands of some slut who can’t even do the one thing she’s supposed to do: keep her fucking mouth shut?”
With that, he allowed for his gaze to steadily raise– lifting up in a seamless glide that, soon, attached itself back onto that one, particular spot on her cheek. He swallowed, releasing the newspaper with one hand as he drew exactly one step closer towards her. Squaring his shoulders, Kira staved off the need to roll his eyes (he’d rather be slapping the back of her head nonstop – over and over and over – until her eyes would pop out of her head and splat onto the ground like some kind of cheap horror show.) as he slowly raised the newspaper.
“What gave you the right to take responsibility for me?” he inquired in a low voice, canting his head towards her that shamelessly encroached within her personal space. Eyes peered straight ahead. “Do you know how much it actually pisses me off that you’re trying to do things for me? How do you think you’d feel if I tried doing the same for you, I wonder… treating you like a soft in the head child that would sooner pee himself than think to call for his harebrained mommy…?”
Pulling back, Kira easily escaped Kikuyo’s personal bubble without so much as popping it. That comes later.
Methodically directing an end of the newspaper beneath the woman’s chin, he adjusted his hand (twisted it a little bit, allowing for his index and middle finger to stretch at its underside in order to ensure a stiff and rigid form.) without complaint. Briefly, he hollowed out his cheeks as he paused, ungraciously leveraging the situation vaguely; if she wanted to interject, come up with some kind of retort (anything, really. rarely was kira “all ears” like this.) or response… now would be the time.
Or, well, it should’ve been.
“You don’t have to impress me, you know,” came the sudden change of heart, exposed in the form of an unexpected softening of tone. Keeping the newspaper poised firmly at the base of her chin, Kira tilted his head once more with a further distancing of their persons. It’s enough to enable him into stretching out his arm, but only slightly, as he’s grown bold enough to smile at her. “I can handle myself, after all. I appreciate the thought, though.”
He lies and finds himself suddenly curious, doesn’t know why more people do it.
It’s a simple but effective tool. Why, if more people wielded it the way he did…?
He’s sure the world would have been a better place. He’s sure of it.
“Really. I do. It shows how selfless you are as a person.”
Calmly dragging the ridge of the newspaper’s roll (an edge stuck out, bothering him. he wants to plainly hit it against the fat of her cheek, nudging it back into place without a single question mustered.) up her face, he’s already mapped out a route for himself. Tracing down the trail he’s created within his head, he’s soon had the tube delicately pressed against her cheek. Kira doesn’t change expression, merely holds it in place as he kept his attention squarely on her.
“I’m sure some people can admire that… they’d probably say “oh, that’s water under the bridge” or something equally as foppish–”
Without warning, he’s abruptly reeled his arm back and (right before, brandishes it like a weapon. he wants to hit her so bad. he wants to hit her so bad that it makes her bleed, maybe even fly into a seizure.) smacked the roll, so hard and violent that it caused for the wind around it to suddenly whistle, into her cheek.
“–but what I prefer is a good, old fashioned apology.”
gamechangershow
romaincrisis
pixelskylines
prguitarman
andulkaphoto
2087
kianamaiart
amandla
yousharknotpass
