aquamarine dollhouse

Saiko’s dark eyes gleamed with razor-sharp interest at his mention of an extra challenge. She liked a game with teeth.

"An extra challenge?" she mused, her crimson lips curving into a slow, tantalizing smile as she kept pace beside him. "Do try your best, Ciro. Nothing dulls my appetite faster than a trick that’s too easily solved."

As he described the human whose fear twisted so violently it broke into joy, a soft, approving purr resonated in her throat. He understood the art of psychological ruin in a way few could fathom.

"Fear snapping into euphoria... now that is an exquisite breakdown," Saiko murmured, her gaze lingering on his profile. "When the human mind realizes salvation is impossible, it scrambles for any escape—even madness. I’ve watched a few break like glass in my palm. It’s intoxicating, isn't it?"

When Ciro extended his hand with that playful suggestion of holding hands to stay warm, Saiko didn't hesitate. She didn't just take his hand; she let her long, dark-manicured fingers slide deliberately between his, her grip cool, firm, and possessing a faint, subtle strength that reminded him exactly what kind of creature he was walking alongside.

"If it keeps us warm, how could I possibly refuse?" she drawled, her tone laced with heavy, playful irony as her fingers locked with his.

She felt the dramatic gesture as he placed his free hand over his chest like a vow, matching her step for step. Saiko tilted her head slightly, her thumb lightly brushing the back of his hand.

"A vow of friendship from someone who wears so many faces..." she whispered, her dark eyes locking onto his brown ones with dangerous fascination. "Tell me then, Ciro—as my dear, steadfast friend... which face am I holding hands with right now?"

"Don't worry. I'm sure to think of something that can keep you entertained." After all, they also had the same issue of finding new ways to stay active all these years of living as well. A common problem with their kind.

The blonde chuckles upon seeing her excitement upon hearing the very brief story of that person. "It is rather fun. For once I thought it'd be interesting to have that person roam the Earth for a little more. If they lost their mind upon seeing me, I wonder how much they remember of it all - and what stories they want to spread the word of over time. Watching my own history getting rewritten by a madman is quite an enjoyable past time."

As their hands intertwined, he gave her own a small squeeze as if in silent thanks for accepting his offer, continuing to have his award winning smile in her direction.

"I'm sure with the two of us keeping one another company as so, we will manage to stay warm throughout the rest of this night~"

When she mentioned destroying his shirt, the faint, dry curve returned to his lips. "I certainly can," he murmured smoothly, casting a brief, indifferent glance down at the damp tear stains darkening the fabric over his chest. "Though I doubt tears are enough to ruin a silk blend."

Her small plea—for him not to laugh because she’d look 'ugly'—was met with complete silence. No mockery, no light teasing. As she finally sat up and kept her head bowed, Akio reached into his inner jacket pocket, withdrawing a clean, folded white handkerchief.

Instead of handing it to her, he stepped just a fraction closer, kneeling on one knee beside the edge of the bed so he was sitting slightly lower than her.

"I don't laugh at people who have survived what you have," Akio said softly, his deep voice remarkably gentle despite its usual cool edge. He extended his hand, lightly placing the soft cloth into her palm. "And there is nothing 'ugly' about feeling relief after a lifetime of carrying a weight alone."

He waited patiently as she asked the question that truly mattered: What do I even do after all this? What is there for me to do?

Akio rested his hands loosely over his knee, his dark eyes fixed intently on her face, completely unbothered by her red, tear-stained eyes.

"First," Akio replied calmly, "you breathe. You rest, and you let your body realize that it no longer needs to be in survival mode."

He tilted his head slightly, his expression shifting into something quietly calculating, yet protective.

Hearing movement, she stopped rubbing her red eyes for a moment to find she was now in the position where she was looking down at him, feeling a little awkward and shy as he passed her the handkerchief, silently accepting it to wipe her face with.

"I can rest..." She echoed, looking down at the cloth in her hands and holding it tightly, stretching it out a little. It still didn't feel like she could rest. He was right - she was in survival mode - even now. "That will take me a while to do." She added with a dry, forced laugh.

As he spoke, there was still a ticking voice in the back of her head that made everything he offered sounded like it came with a price. There was no way anyone could give her all that choice for free. There was always a 'but'. Always a hidden clause. She stared at him with some distrust, expression shifting to look a little more sad at the final question.

What she wanted?

Still not looking at him, she continues to stare at the handkerchief, letting the silence hang in the room for several long seconds before she shifts her attention down at him, forcing a smile.

Always tired? Carmichael raises his eyebrows in disbelief, heart stirring with concern.  Falling asleep in a public place and losing track of time.. That wasn’t normal. But it wasn’t his place to voice his opinion.  Not that he had the space to give it— Viktoria’d sent a question his way. He replaces his surprised expression with a look of placidity. 

“Oh! Oh, no, I’ve actually traveled to very many places. Just never by bus.” Not by train, car, or plane, either.  By foot— And many, many years ago.  “But. . That was some time ago.  In fact, I’ll bet most of those places have changed a great deal since I last visited.”

Carmichael’s last sentence is spoken with melancholy, and his eyes look misty as he revisits his past in his mind.  It lasts only a moment, though, and he returns to that state of tranquility. He tosses the ball back into her court as he tilts his head in her direction to ask his own question. 

"Not by bus.....?" She pauses her stride for a moment and looks around the town, taking a moment to question. "Do you.. drive then? Since it sounds like there's not really... a big... travel hub?" Considering he had said there was only one bus per day and she was the last one; it only made sense he knew how to drive - at least to her.

"Oh... you should travel again if you do get.. the chance." She nods slowly as if agreeing with her own statement.

A low, melodious laugh bubbled past Saiko’s lips as she matched his stride, her dark eyes flashing with a wicked, amused light. She didn't miss the subtle dip in his voice or the deliberate drop into a deeper register—a little display of power that only made her inner predator purr in approval.

"A guessing game?" she mused, slanting a glance upward at the blonde man beside her, her crimson-painted lips curving into a sharp, knowing smile. "Be careful what you offer. I’m notoriously good at unraveling little secrets... and I rarely lose."

As he brought up human fear and the way trauma skews memory, Saiko let out a soft hum of agreement. The way he spoke of humans as fragile, unreliable creatures of survival echoed her own dark philosophy so neatly. It was delicious.

"Exaggerated, misremembered, or completely rewritten," she murmured softly, her tone dripping with dark satisfaction. "Humans are so delightfully fragile when terror takes hold. They cling to whatever illusion keeps their hearts beating a few seconds longer."

When he quipped about catching a cold—and the unspoken truth that illness was a human weakness neither of them suffered from—her smile widened, sharp and alluring.

"Catching a cold? Oh, what a tragic horror that would be," Saiko purred, her voice laced with playful sarcasm.

As he fell into step right beside her, offering his sincere friendship, Saiko tilted her head slightly toward him, her gaze locking onto his brown eyes with total confidence.

"I do so love a man who doesn't run," she said softly, stepping ahead just enough to guide them down the path, her hips swaying with deliberate, graceful cadence. "Follow close then, my fearless friend. Let's get us out of this damp air before we 'catch something'."

"If that is the case, I'll be sure to add a little bit of an extra challenge for you right from the start." They did have quite the roster of identities to switch from; but surely they would figure out how to trick her a few times.

"Exactly. I've had humans beg on their knees for a few more seconds of life - but those were undeserving of any praise. The one who lasted the longest felt so much fear it turned into joy - have you ever met someone who's emotions twisted in such an interesting way?"

"Ah, it would be quite a shame if you were to get sick. Should we hold hands to keep each other a little bit warmer?" His tone is teasing; and he does in fact extend his hand in her direction once more. Aside from a simple offering he doesn't plan to press any further; but his innate curiousity wonders if she would take it or not.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ💋ɞ˚‧｡⋆  𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝  𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫  𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭

[  TXT  ]  :  quick.  no  time  to  explain.  pick  one:  frogs  or  lasers.

[  TXT  ]  :  why  are  you  still  awake?

[  TXT  ]  :  what  would  you  do  if  i  texted  “i’m  outside”  and  actually  was?

[  TXT  ]  :  would  you  still  like  me  if  i  was  a  worm?  be  honest.

[  TXT  ]  :  i  dare  you  to  stop  thinking  about  me  for  one  minute.  bet  you  can’t.

[  TXT  ]  :  i  saw  something  shiny  and  dramatic  and  thought  of  you.

[  TXT  ]  :  wanna  make  bad  decisions  together  or  what?

[  TXT  ]  :  how  illegal  would  it  be  if  i  showed  up  with  a  raccoon  in  a  cowboy  hat?

[  TXT  ]  :  you  looked  hot  today  btw.  not  that  you  asked.

[  TXT  ]  :  do  you  want  the  good  news,  the  bad  news,  or  the  chaotic  news  first?

[  TXT  ]  :  okay,  so  hear  me  out. cereal  is  basically  cold  soup,  right?

[  TXT  ]  :  what’s  your  villain  origin  story?

[  TXT  ]  :  thinking  about  you.  thought  you  should  know.

[  TXT  ]  :  if  we  were  in  a  rom-com,  this  is  the  part  where  we’d  kiss  in  the  rain.  just  saying.

[  TXT  ]  :  what’s  your  toxic  trait  in  uno?

[  TXT  ]  :  if  i  say  something  reckless,  will  you  pretend  you  didn’t  hear  it?

[  TXT  ]  :  how  mad  would  you  be  if  i  said  “let’s  get  matching  tattoos”  and  meant  it?

[  TXT  ]  :  i  hope  something  good  happens  to  you  today.  like,  you  find  five  dollars.

[  TXT  ]  :  i  have  a  plan.  it’s  chaotic  and  underdeveloped.  you  in?

[  TXT  ]  :  you  make  my  brain  go  all  soft.  thanks  a  lot.

[  TXT  ]  :  which  one  of  us  would  survive  a  horror  movie?  and  who’d  die  in  the  dumbest  way?

[  TXT  ]  :  i  just  caused  a  scene  at  the  grocery  store.  be  ready  to  alibi  me.

[  TXT  ]  :  what’s  something  that  always  makes  you  smile?

[  TXT  ]  :  do  you  think  we’d  get  banned  from  a  museum  if  we  tried  hard  enough?

[  TXT  ]  :  i’m  bored.  flirt  with  me.

[  TXT  ]  :  tell  me  a  secret  you’ve  never  said  out  loud.

[  TXT  ]  :  if  you  were  here  right  now,  what  would  we  be  doing?

[  TXT  ]  :  be  honest.  did  you  think  about  me  today?

[  TXT  ]  :  if  i  told  you  i  missed  you,  would  you  say  it  back  or  leave  me  on  read?

[  TXT  ]  :  what’s  your  comfort  movie  and  do  you  wanna  watch  it  with  me?

[  TXT  ]  :  you’re  my  favorite  notification.  don’t  make  it  weird.

Then, slowly, the tension dissolved from his shoulders.

He didn't pull away, nor did he rush to comfort her with hollow platitudes. Instead, Akio lifted his hands, letting one rest gently against the back of her head, his fingers settling loosely near her messy hair while his other hand came to rest reassuringly against her back. The physical contact was calm, steady, and anchor-like—a quiet proof that this wasn't a dream she was about to wake up from.

"I assure you, I am entirely flesh and blood," Akio murmured, his voice low, deep, and carrying a faint, dry hum of amusement at her earlier robot question.

He stayed still as her grip on his shirt tightened, letting her quiet sobs hit his chest until the initial wave of shock began to settle. He could feel the desperate tension in her body—the absolute terror that releasing him meant slipping back into whatever nightmare she’d just escaped.

"You don't need to hold on like I'm going to vanish," he added softly, his tone shifting into something surprisingly gentle as he let his hand rub a slow, grounding circle into her back. "The footage is real. The place is secured. You're safe here."

He tilted his head down slightly, listening to the muffled, tearful thanks she kept repeating against his clothes.

The weight of his hands does slowly begin to calm her down. She doesn't remember the last time she's been properly hugged - or even initiated one herself. That train of thought hits her with a small wave of embarrassment, which at this point only adds to her tears. The unloved black mark of the Fallon family never got to hug anyone, and now here she was clinging to a man she barely knew just to keep herself rooted in reality.

Her tears continued to fall for another several minutes before her breathing slowly became steady again, and now she didn't want to let go for other reasons - she probably looked even worse after bawling her eyes out like that.

"You can always get another shirt." He clearly didn't lack the funds to get one if she destroyed this one with her tears and hands.

"I will - but promise not to laugh, okay? I'm going to be ugly." Sighing; she carefully lets go of him, keeping her head down so that his eyes couldn't meet her own, teary red ones. As she sat up, she did notice she had actually left tear stains on his shirt, but did not say anything about it; opting to rub her eyes instead as if trying to fix her face to no avail.