#ronin

"My neighbours cat - she was on my car hood t'day," You're swooning, stirring the beverage that sat infront of you with the spoon that you favour.

"She looked so adorable." You add, dazingly thinking back on the cute feline.

A pause pangs through.

“She meowed like she remembered words, but her mouth couldn’t shape them anymore.”

The spoon gently clinks against the rim of your cup before you focus back on Ronin.

"She's the cutest thing. I love persians."

Ronin doesn't dignify you with a response, only stares blankly at the screen; trying to piece your words together. A faint unease tickles up his spine, yet, juxtaposed against it, a grin pinches at the corner of his mouth. Because he knows, when the time comes, you'll say something even stranger.

It means something when you make the Butcher's skin crawl. Though, your ominiousity is a trait he favours about you. His creepy-crawly writer darling.

Angel.

Maria is irked by this trait of yours.

You both rest on the couch, bodies tangled together like a braid. You drum your fingers across Maria's skin, tracing an inconspicuous pattern on her foreaarm. Maria seems to be presuming something whilst running her hand down the arch of your head.

"..Sometimes i wonder if the walls remember us better than we remember ourselves."

The moment you part your lips, she groans, shifting from underneath you.

"Is it really necessary to say these things out loud?"

"What? It's just a thought. I'm just thinking."

"Thinking? Far from it. That was more like theatrics."

"If walls could whine, everyone would be guilty."

Maria gingerly places her palm over your mouth, shaking her head softly.

"Let's go back to silence, my heart."

She loves you, really. But you truly are a paradox.

Misaki.

Misaki loves this trait of yours. It creeps her out, sure, but who doesn't love to feel on edge?

They're lying with their head against your lap, warbling about something random as your fingers lazily comb through her tufts of hair.

"Your hair. It feels allot softer today."

"Flattery? You want something from me?" Misaki snorts, rocking their eyes back to capture your face.

"Almost like it's forgiving you."

Her grin falters, a dejected expression on her visage.

"Almost."

Your words wrap around their neck like a silky ribbon pulled too tight. Alas, she doesn't move. Not even a twitch.

In fact, Misaki melts into your grounding touch further, savouring the peculiar little ache you leave in their veins.

Because that's the trade-off. Comfort wrapped with a poisonous bow. She can't help but crave it more.

V.

You make Valentin worry every time you pull the stunt. His nighttime ritual is stressing about your sanity while you rest soundly beside him.

"Goodnight, Val." You softly hum out, shuffling the blankets to engulf you further.

"Let's hope you're still you when i wake."

Val blinks at the body laying beside him, watching the calm rise and fall of your chest. Your breathing slipping into the candence of dreaming. Your words hang thick in the air, polluting the vicinity.

Valentin has to stop himself shaking you awake and interrogating you on what you meant by that.

He nestles down into the blankets, staring up at the ceiling with a glint of disquiet in his eye.