Makes faces at him from behind the test tubes and beakers. Each one distorts her face in a new amusing and equally grotesque way. - Giselle
Akon works quietly at his desk, shoulders slouched forward as he goes over his notes from the experimentation that morning. Hiyosu had asked him for his help and he had accepted the invitation. The premise was interesting enough and though it didn’t particularly pertain to his current interests, it was an opportunity to learn something fresh. After all, his lab partner certainly had plenty of intriguing concepts that rattled around in that skull of his. He might as well pick his brain given the chance.
He continues to make notes on the data he had collected, scribbling small in the sparse margins ‘what about...’s and ‘next time...’s. It’s a mundane task overall and eventually the lieutenant finds his chin nestled in the palm of his free hand, dark eyes skimming the pages more absentminded as the minutes pass. At least that is, until, he feels the tendrils of her presence encroaching ever closer.
It wasn’t as though he had been ignoring her, that was an impossibility by far. She was swathed in an energy that demanded some level of attention at all times but Akon had grown rather used to it. Was that a mistake? There’s a dark voice in the back of his mind that tells him no, it’s not. The same voice that visits him in his nightmares, the same voice that has haunted him his entire life.
His hand pauses over the page, mouth pressed faintly as he allows his eyes to glance in the direction he feels her staring from. His view of her is distorted where he sits, flashes of teeth and wide eyes made horror from behind vials and beakers of his work. As if drawn he allows his head to turn properly to view her, watching in silence as she makes her way from one to the other. There are brief moments where it feels as if she’s not looking at him but through him, into him, at a depth he does not descend himself.
“... Enjoying yourself?” Akon finally asks, his gaze following her as she emerges from the other side of the table - suddenly normal, undisturbed.
He lowers his writing utensil down, turning on the swivel of his seat. For a moment Akon does nothing, calculating her intentions. It wasn’t so much that he trusted her, he knew that much would lead to his demise but the comfortability he had allowed was dangerous in and of itself. What was stopping her from plunging a hidden syringe up her sleeve into his chest... a second time ?
“What is it you want, Giselle?” He adds, as if an afterthought, standing from his seat a moment later. He does not approach though, instead waiting to hear what it is she has to say or to see what it is she wants to do. His right hand lingers on the table top, his left hand loosely by his side. It is only ever when he stands does he remember how small she is of stature in comparison to him despite how far deadlier she is in truth.
