"Lets carve a scary face this time."

And lo, and behold ! One day at Night Raven College, Ahmanet suddenly felt a pain like she had never felt before. Her cousin Elvina had been concerned enough to listen when Ahmanet pleaded for her to look for Quinn, because she knew it was about him.

Ahmanet had never been as emotional as the days following Quinn's disappearance. The Brahmses had watched in morbid fascination how their kin kept on wailing incessantly for days, because she lost her soulmate.

They were fascinated by the way she felt the heartbreak. They kept on asking questions, more and more intrusive. It was 'fortunate' that Ahmanet was too deep in her grief to hear them.

Ahmanet was convinced that she should have just turned Quinn into a vampire, if it meant nothing would have been able to separate him from her. For him, she would have taken on that family so that they wouldn't change him from the man she loved (still loves, and will love forever) so much.

“Stop being a coward and dance with her already.”

Elara may as well start to drop to her knees and vomit on the floor over the sight of Noriko staring longingly at little miss perfectionist in the distance— the woman in question unsurprisingly appetizing on, what, her fifth slice of chocolate cake for the night?

“Stop with the longing glances and get on with it, Noriko…” she grumbled in favor of her impatience; one more minute of Noriko's incessant looks of lovesickness and Elara's gonna rip her hair out to distract from the second hand embarrassment.

Noticing that Noriko was very clearly not hearing a word she was saying, Elara took a few extra precautions until she had their full, completely undivided attention.

Snapping her fingers once or twice; poking them by the shoulder; the short-lived wave of her hand over his face.

Alas, all efforts ended fruitlessly. And so, Elara Cessair — lunar starlet wearing stolen stars across her body — simply did what any other logical person would do in this predicament.

Smack them over the head, of course!

Noriko hissed, swiftly whipping their head in Elara’s direction with a piercing glare that made her eyebrows shoot up.

If looks could kill, Elara thought and felt almost impressed and even proud with Noriko's endeavors in making their irritation known to her. then I'd be dead in no time.

Probably not the best option to get Noriko to act agreeable, but what's a girl to do outside of taking matters into her own hands?

“Elara…” Noriko said her name in a low grunt, one of their eyes mostly obscured by that ridiculous fringe of theirs. They really needed a haircut.

Noriko's ugly bangs aside, Elara gave the trusted knight her brightest and most playful of crooning, mocking smirks. “Aw, what's that look for, Nori? Little ol’ me was just trying to grab your attention.”

“That doesn't justify you feeling the need to hit me over the head.”

“Hmm, well to me, it does.”

“No wonder.”

“Agree to disagree.” Elara waved a dismissive hand, shifting from one topic to the next like a ballerina leaping across the stage. “For once, Nori, I'm not just grabbing your attention for the sake of annoying you.”

Noriko looked up at the ceiling for a second, maybe a couple more; a deliberate tactic into holding back a proper eye roll while Elara and them were currently conversing.

“Then what is it?” Based on Elara's sardonic little smirk, Noriko wanted to guess that it would hardly do them any favors.

“I'm just trying to help you, Nori,” said Elara, soon making a subtle nod towards the direction Victoria currently was.

Now the poised little heiress was eating cake no longer, instead having a possibly boring conversation with some random glutton in navy blue about god knows what. Whatever they were talking about, it would be too boring for Elara's tastes.

Noriko didn't even have to look at where Elara was nodding at to know what she meant. He huffed. “I don't like where this is going, Cessair.”

Elara did what Noriko refrained from doing earlier as a reply: a roll of her eyes and an exasperated response. “Ugh, you're acting like I'm gonna convince you to get down on one knee and propose to her…”

“Sevens above– Are you listening to what you're saying?”

“What? It's not like you wouldn't.”

“My love life”— Or lack thereof, Elara thought with a barely contained snort —“Isn’t any of your business, Cessair.”

“I’m just asking you to dance with her.”

“... I don't quite follow.”

Of course you don't, Elara scoffed. “Her. Victoria. Little miss perfectionist in her pretty blue dress with an open crinoline and the tiny top hat?”

“What about her.”

“I swear to– Dance. With. Her.”

Noriko folded their arms across their chest. “I'd prefer not to.” Terribly lovesick, woefully stubborn with a face perfectly suitable for punching. Best description she's thought of for them yet.

“And I'd prefer to seal your mouth shut with wax so you don't give out an entire sermon on how accomplished she is.” deadpanned Elara. “But unfortunately for you, Noriko, we can't have everything we want in life.”

Noriko countered, if they were offended by what Elara said, they didn't show it. “I'm not well-versed in dancing.”

“You think that's my problem?” She could only hold back a shrieking cackle at the thought. “I don't care! My job is to get you and purple plum to kiss and do all the mushy shit couples do. I'm sick of the longing glances and carefully crafted catchphrases.”

“You can't just expect me to waltz with her with little to no dance knowledge…” Noriko murmured, appalled but not entirely bewildered.

“That isn't stopping Kit and goody-goody Ella.” Those were very clearly not the actual names of the two individuals Elara was referencing to Noriko, but she didn't bother to correct herself.

What mattered, was that while the former — this Kit — seemed absolutely inept on the dancefloor, he at least had the guts Noriko seemed to lack to actually give it a shot.

Noriko didn't seem to be taking her claims too seriously, and Elara's patience with the dense imbecile of a knight had been growing thin for the entire evening.

“It’s a dance, Noriko. You'll get the hang of it, trust me.”

“And so my doubt increases. I'm almost in disbelief at your faith in my abilities on the dancefloor.”

“Oh, I have zero faith. I just know that you don't wanna look like a screwup in front of your perfect violet lady.”

“That's–” Noriko quieted down, losing any hint of what he had to say next upon the arched eyebrow Elara had given him in return. “... that isn't the point, and my point still stands. I'd only make a fool out of myself in front of her.”

They looked almost… embarrassed even admitting that. But it was a truth, Noriko's truth anyway. With clenched fists and a lowered head looking at the floor tiles to their left, the treasured knight of Victoria Shard only showed this much vulnerability when it came to her.

Not that Elara seemed to care enough to try and play motivational speaker and give him some much needed words of encouragement.

Instead, Elara thought: I really have to do everything myself, huh? And she gripped Noriko by their shoulders, turning them around and pushing them closer and closer to Victoria.

Startled, Noriko hissed, trying to get Elara to stop. “Cessair–!”

“Victoria!” Elara called out, stepping over Noriko's foot to silence them of their words until she and their lady love finished a small unimportant chitchat.

“That cheery tone usually isn't a good sign,” said Victoria. She leaned against the dessert table, her head tilted to one side as she assessed Elara and gave a sympathetic smile to Elara's ‘captive’ in tandem. “What is it that you want, Elara?”

“Oh, I'm not open to sharing right now,” Elara laughed heartily, so performative and lovely and pleasant that it came to no surprise it became a confirmation to Victoria that the lunar starlet was up to something.

That never ends well, the expression on Victoria's face seemed to say. With a soft sigh, her hands gently moved Elara's off of Noriko's shoulders.

Victoria looked away for a second, and much to her (lack of) surprise, Elara was already gone. Although she only responded to the swift escape with an amused laugh.

Noriko however, was not as amused. “Do you think she finds most entertainment out of making a fool out of me?”

“The likelihood is high,” Victoria said, glancing back at Noriko with a hand over her hip. “But Elara is a woman of many secrets, with many forms of entertainment keeping her from doing anything rash.”

“Uh huh.” Though the frown on their face remained ever present, it softened. It always did around Victoria, he never tried to make it subtle.

Subtle never sold well with Noriko. He could never grasp it as well as he'd hoped to.

As one circle of dancers depart from the ballroom centerpiece, soon a new sphere emerges with energy and vibrance for a night so…

“It's hard to describe tonight.” Victoria admitted that sliver of truth to them, staring almost fondly at the blown crystal chandelier looming over them all. Its combination of pearls and crystals calling to mind a contrast to the usual flair Night Raven college had to offer.

Noriko couldn't help but agree. “Indeed… I'm quite surprised most of our classmates have decided to be civil for tonight.”

“Agreed. You'd think the rowdier bunch would start causing mischief..”

“Well for the most part, they're keeping it tame. But it won't take long until someone like Elara decides to ‘shake things up’”— in air quotes, naturally —“just for their own entertainment.”

“Pity. I would've enjoyed a more calming atmosphere. But so far, I think I'm getting what I'm asking for.”

As did Noriko. He looked down at the hand kept to Victoria's side, nicely manicured yet calloused in certain edges. Yet with all his hesitancy, there was still a side of him that asked, What happens if I move closer?

They didn't dare put that to the test. Victoria had a fondness for them, sure, but when it came to a woman like her? You never know when the trust she has in you is gonna start dwindling away like a dandelion's pappus on a windy afternoon.

She was kind when she wanted to be; a smile as pure as the voices of a church chorus, a hug you never wished to part from. But he knew the other side. The side she barely talked about when around him. You never knew when you'd start to become less useful to her— it would always enter like an unwelcome guest.

Complicated, she was. Still, Noriko adored her so, worshiped the ground she walked on like she was Venus reborn from her seafoam, sanctioning to him and her loyal subjects as to what they can, could, and never do to please her.

“Would you like to dance?”

The question took a hit at Noriko's thoughts, a train nailing a strike over them at the railways until nothing else but a battered, bruised, and barely alive body remained.

“H… What?” They thought they'd heard her wrong. But the look on her face said it all.

They hadn't. “Would you like to dance?” She repeated, the offer still open for Noriko to accept. “I know it might seem a little bit… nerve-wracking, but dance has its merits in helping one boost their confidence. It can certainly bring two people closer together.”

“Well, that's the point of it.” Militaristic and stiff, Noriko tucked their hands behind their back, refraining from allowing Victoria to catch them in the act of fidgeting with their hands.

Victoria knew. She always knew, and it fascinated Noriko in one instance, and frustrated him the next. And by all he damned, that one knowing phantom of a curved upward lip from her felt like a million bright grins from a million others.

She extended a hand to his. “Humor me? Just this once?”

More than once, they'd corrected her. More times than they could count they'd indulged her, humored her. And they'd continue to until the day they die.

Their hand grasped hers, and he guided her to the dancefloor the way any loyal man would for their lady.

Victoria quickly realized that while Noriko held many strengths, none of them include dancing. Not that she minded, in fact, she found it a little (more than a little) endearing.

Thoughtfully, Victoria set a slower pace to their dance, slowly counting beneath her breath to guide him the entire way— slower than the circle of dancers around them.

“... I–”

“Shhh,” Victoria pressed a quick, soft finger against Noriko's lips. She wore a gentle ghost of a smile, pleasant and practiced. “Eyes on me.”

Noriko's lips pursed against her finger. “I am afraid of stepping on your toes.”

“So long as you follow my lead, Nori, I find doubt in that assumption.”

“Formidable as you are, my lady, I dread the thought of harming you in any way.”

She blurted through an unexpected chuckle, the edges of her lips curving upwards. “Then you are most considerate.”

Noriko swallowed, trying to keep their eyes on her — solely on her — and trying to keep his mind astray from the lingering thought of stepping over her foot, more than once.

She flinched when that moment came. Noriko was more than ready to apologize, to beg for forgiveness— but all he could comprehend in the end was her devastating smile, the shine in her eyes and the calm, tender assurance that it was okay.

“My lady…”

“Apologies are not needed, Nori.”

“You are much too kind, my lady,” Noriko muttered softly, looking back at her from beneath his lashes.

She looked back at him, almost considering his words, as though there was a chance that what he was declaring was wrong.

Much too adoring, her eyes suggested. Much too kind.

She changed the subject, faster than a stroke of lightning hitting against a pavement. “You needn't express shame for a needless mistake. Your actions will have no echo, dearest Nori.”

“All it takes is a little practice. It might not be that way for some, but it can be of use as a starting point.”

Noriko looked from her, to a million other things around them all at once. Before he gave her a stiff, hesitant nod and resumed the dance.

It was embarrassing. A knight so gifted in the art of combat; so graceful with a sword, yet the moment it isn't in their hands, they're an awkward, distressed mess. Humiliating.

But humility had its own way of feeling comforting; An endless reminder to Noriko that they were no more powerful than anyone else in this academy. As much as they wanted to ignore it, he knew that individuals like Malleus, and the woman he was dancing with now were powerful in ways that were impossible to ignore.

Victoria encouraged them to count in their head, if not beneath their breath. To keep track, and keep score of every step they took as they danced; to remind himself to not move too slow, nor too quick.

From the corner of Noriko's eye, they saw Elara's effervescent and noctilucent smirk. It irritated them every time they saw it, and unconsciously, just the sight of Elara Cessair’s amusement urged him to pull Victoria closer to his chest.

Her eyebrows raised heavenward, half startled, half entertained. “Nori…?”

He didn't seem to hear her calling, only grumbling a quick, “Of course Elara's watching…” Ah. So that was it. It almost made Victoria shake with mirth.

“You need not concern yourself over her leisures, Nori.”

“I certainly don't find enjoyment in her watching us.”

She huffed through her nose, rolling her eyes. “Sure, sure. But that can't be helped with Elara, can it?”

She spun under their hold, so graceful and glamorous like a fine jewel. The finest of jewels; treasured, and lovely, and shining brighter than any star.

No star could measure up to her.

To his surprise, Noriko found himself relishing in what the night had to offer along with her, both his hands finding their way to her waist— lifting her up and spinning her around as though she weighed nothing.

At the slightest stumble, the step that took off too fast, there was no embarrassment to be had. Only wide eyes, wider smiles, and laughter that echoed about the room— drowned out, just barely, by the band of musicians playing and strumming their instruments to make music to dance to.

In any other circumstances, Noriko would've toppled over themselves at the number of eyes coming their way, the longer they danced. But how could they focus on that when Victoria's eyes stared back at theirs with something almost comparable to affection?

“The moon is beautiful, isn't it?”

Noriko's face flushed. “My lady…”

“What?” She gently nudged them by their side, chuckling softly. “I was merely stating an observation.”

“I dare not question where you're getting pickup lines from.”

“If I say some of them were suggestions from Elara, what would you say?”

“No comment.” He turned his head away, hiding the flush of his cheeks from her assessing gaze. A gaze he'd come to love all too much.

Victoria felt bolder this time around, this night. She leaned against the stone railing of the balcony, her eyes continuing to settle on Noriko— watching silently.

In the moments where she wasn't turning to face them, Noriko would do the same to her; watching her, admiring her in the same vein as her admiring the moon.

He loved it, lived for it. And for her, he'd promise to let himself live a little longer too.

Then she caught him in the act. He recoiled. Noriko's body went unnaturally still that if he'd been painted gray, he'd fit right in with the gargoyles and grotesques sitting among the academy grounds.

“You were staring,” Victoria teased. “But pray tell, may I ask why?”

“Please don't…” Noriko pleaded in reflex, much to his own chagrin. Cursing himself beneath his breath for blurting that out, he pantomimed zipping his mouth clean shut.

“Nori…” she sang out the term of endearment, stepping closer to them — nearly closing that distance — and taking their hands in hers.

“—!” By the sevens, they must've looked redder than Riddle in a bad mood, weren't they?

“You're hiding something from me.” Victoria mused that out, her voice a whisper of a thousand songs Noriko never wanted to end. “Yet you do not seem to tell me about whatever is plaguing your mind.”

“I-I…”

“Do you… dislike me, Nori–”

“Of course not!”

They hadn't meant to pull her in, their bodies standing flush against the others; the stars watched them, as did the gleaming jewel they both called a moon— Elara's symbol, ethereal and illuminating, and most mocking indeed.

Noriko couldn't back out. Not now. “My lady, my Victoria, I…” sevens above, he can barely get a few words out. What kind of man was he??

Victoria waited patiently, her fingers intertwining with his all too perfectly together. “You…?” She prompted, unmeaningly leaning her face closer to his.

“... You are everything, all at once. A tidal wave, a blazing inferno, and whirlwind. As longingly as I wish to speak as though you glowed as brightly as this moonless night, not even that would be enough to compare to you.”

One hand slipped from her hold, reaching out to her cheek and tracing her face, the outline of her jaw. Her lips.

Victoria stared differently at Noriko now. Somehow there'd been enough space between them that when she took that final step— it was as if all air had been sucked right out of Noriko's body.

Beautiful, said he in the back of his head; filled with images of her, of the memories they both shared, at the wishes he'd wish he could fulfill.

One wish he'd hope would come true, finally happening right this very second.

Victoria leaned into the touch of their hand, her palms soon making contact with the sides of their face. Their noses brushed.

Noriko stood still, awfully still and horribly depraved of any air in their lungs… metaphorically.

“What are you thinking about?” The question almost didn't register to them until a mere second after she'd spoken. Noriko stared at her — continued to stare at her — just not at her face.

Not at her eyes, at all.

Their forehead pressed against hers. “A… a lot of things, my lady.”

“What is it that you want, Nori?”

“I can't… can't say it.”

“But why?” There was an ache at the apex of Noriko's heart at the gut wrenching look of concern in her face, in her eyes. Those gorgeous eyes; an abyss of dark sapphire gleaming against the light of the moon floating above.

The heart is an arrow, Noriko thought of that saying he'd heard one too many times, a memory from a remnant of a life without her in it. and it demands to aim true.

“What's stopping you, Nori?”

“Myself, my lady, I– I want… I want–”

It killed them to say it. But perhaps deep down, she'd known all along. Perhaps she didn't. It was too late to contemplate that.

Noriko inhaled deeply, stealing back the air of which was stolen from them every time Victoria looked at them like that. “I want… I want you.”

A jagged breath, one of utter relief, left her lips before she leaned in. Capturing his lips with hers, and wrapping her arms all around him. Unbecoming, uncharacteristic. Perfect.

Noriko regretted that he'd wasted so much of his time processing the press of her lips against his. He wasted that time no longer. One hand on the underside of her chin, tilting her head up to deepen this pleasure they'd indulged in; the other wrapped tight around her waist.

“I've loved you much too quietly, my lady–” Noriko muttered through panting breaths, ripe with emotion with a throat all too dry and hoarse.

“Then speak your truth, Noriko…” Her back met the curve of the balcony railing, feeling Noriko's hand trailing up so as to not be caught in-between.

Eyes half-lidded, face flushed in a heaven-like daze, Noriko could only say next, “I will have you.”

“You will have me.” Victoria nodded with a half-smile, slowly forming a dazzling grin when her hands traced the outline of Noriko's jaw. “With or without my armor.”

That would be all she asked of them. And it would take an act of God for Noriko not to indulge.

She closed her eyes just in time for Noriko to kiss the lids, and opened them just enough — and just in time — to see them to stare back at her lips.

“With or without your armor.”

⟨ Bonus!! ⟩

“So… I take it you had a fun night, Nori?”

“Not another word out of you, Cessair.”

“Oh I have plenty of words to say after the previous night. You were enjoying yourself a little too much over there in that balcony with Vic, hmm?”

“You're a prude.”

“Hey now, I'm not the one who devoured Victoria Shard's pretty lips like she was my last meal.”

“Get out of my dorm.”

“Fine. Tell your queen of hearts I give her my gratitude to deal with your boring ass.”

“Housewarden Rosehearts–?”

“No! Ugh, what does Vic even see in you??”

【 Taglist / Credits 】

↳ In order of OC appearances/mentions

Elara Cessair – @/terrovaniadorm

Noriko Dolion – @hallowed-delights · @terrovaniadorm

Victoria Shard – Me 😈

“Some random glutton” (Miren Lockhart) – @authoruio

“Ella” (Gwendolyn Schnee) – @starry-night-rose

“Kit” (Roya Callistis) – Also Me 😈

@jasdiary | @fumikomiyasaki | @sakuramidnight15 | @twsted-princess | @geminiiviolets | @lueerhythm | @absolutelyobsessedkiya · @twistedsongstressofstarz | @spadecentral | @crazyyanderefangirlfan

“They asked if I knew Camilla.”

Maria hummed at the reply Keres provided, her head on Lance's shoulder. “Same. Looks like they're interviewing all the students for this week, so– I guess we're allowed to go home early…”

Lance sent Davis a look. “Did they ask if you knew how to hunt?”

Davis snorted, flapping his hair from his face and laying his head on Keres’ lap, snuggling in real, real close. “Sure did. You?”

Lance only nodded in confirmation, his attention back on whatever classical bullshit he had to read for literature.

Maria’s bewilderment took center stage. “Hunt?”

“Why would they ask if you knew how to hunt?”

“It's ‘cause their bodies were gutted.” Keres was the most quiet among the four, but that didn't come off as much of a surprise to any of them.

Right now, they were just… reading. Not for class, like Lance, but for their own entertainment. Crazy, Keres had hobbies outside of being Davis’ loyal little lapdog.

Maria shuddered, sitting closer beside Lance. “God, that's gross…”

“You can say that again.” commented Lance, who wrinkled his nose with a narrow-eyed glance sent Davis' way.

“But they never asked me if I knew how to hunt.” Maria's lips twisted, her head tilting up towards the sky in contemplation.

Davis snickered. “It's ‘cause there's no way a girl could have done it.”

“That is so sexist, the killer could easily be female— basic instinct.”

“Yeah, well, Cami and her little boyfriend were like, hollowed out when the cops found them. Takes a man to do something like that.”

Maria's tongue clicked. “Or a man's mentality.”

After what felt like a small eternity, it finally came to the moment where Keres spoke up, their voice timid and almost hesitant.

“How do you… how do you gut someone?”

Davis — laying in the comfort of their lap — sent them a look, one that seemed to exude concern. Lance glanced suspiciously at Keres. “Why would you ask that?”

“I-I, it's just…” Keres gulped. “... curiosity, is all. Uh—”

“It's not exactly the most appropriate question to ask right now, Keres.”

“Lance, you know I'm not the killer, I was with Maria the other night—”

“Well, you can't blame me for being concerned, can you? I'm just saying–”

“Hey.” All attention turned back to Davis, whose eyes focused on holding the gaze of his little brother. “It's called having tact, you fuckrag. You could use more of that.”

Lance kept quiet, eyes on the ground. Maria let out a gentle sigh, her hand finding its place over his. They shared a look, the kind of look that would make anyone want to topple over for even a fraction of what they had.

Keres tensed, doing the same. Their hand went to interlock with Davis', their eyes meeting.

To which Davis huffed out a small, amused laugh. He sat up, his hand wrapping around them and pulling them closer to his chest.

He rested his head on the top of Keres' head, pressing a kiss against it. Keres' face flushed, looking back down to avoid meeting Davis' eyes.

They felt guilty. Guilty for so many things.

But most of all, they were guilty for managing to be a decent enough liar. Their ‘white lies’ flew over the heads of their friends. And only Davis was the one who caught on.

Only Davis knew the truth hidden behind the curtain of deceit they'd placed over themselves.

“Are… you sure this is a good idea?” It was hard to tell what a good idea looked like after Keres and Davis became official.

“It's the only way, little red,” said Davis, his voice akin to a harmless whisper. Unfortunately, Davis was anything but.

His hands found a place on the side of Keres' cheek, the motion deliberate in getting them to lean into his touch. He smiled. They smiled.

Keres’ didn't feel like smiling. They hadn't for a long time. They wondered if they should blame that on Davis; but that felt wrong. Davis loved them. Maybe more than they could ever know, more than they could fathom.

Yes. Keres agreed with the lingering trainwreck of thoughts in their head. Yes, that's exactly it. Davis knows what he's doing.

We're doing the right thing…

“Now, Red,” Davis crooned, giving their forehead an affectionate enough peck. “You know what to do now, don't you?”

They did. Word for word, Keres knew exactly what Davis instructed them to do tonight.

But just for good measure, Keres asked, “Could you… repeat it for me?”

Davis happily obliged. “You”— he said you like Keres was the most captivating thing in the world—“are going to drag little miss Maria somewhere dark and secluded.

“We're gonna knock her out, and we'll drive her to the warehouse. Or her basement, if you'd prefer it that way.”

“Davis, I…”

“Oh, I know what you're going to say.”

Davis' mood soured, his lips curving into a frown. “But this is for the best, Red,” he said, taking Keres' hands in his. “For my brother, for me, for you.”

“Maria was always a stuck-up little bitch, always running her mouth and getting up into people's business like she had a stick up her ass.”

“She’s too much of a problem to just leave hanging around.” Davis' voice was soft; in times like this, it always was. It was his method in soothing Keres' troubles.

It was the mask behind his worst rages.

Even if it did very little in the long run. Still, Keres gave him as best of a smile as they could muster, even if it pained them — and their cheekbones — to do so.

Davis smiled, and a chill snaked through Keres' spine. “You get me, Red. You always have.”

And always will. Keres may never know if that was a good thing or not. They didn't know if they were capable of it.

The trip to Marina's house was anything but long, barely the length of an evening joyride on Davis' motorcycle. One moment, Keres sat on the back — their arms wrapped tight around his waist — and the next, they were a few blocks away from Maria's doorstep.

“You know what to do, Red.” Davis caressed their face so gently. It scared Keres. They couldn't quite know why.

He kissed the top of Keres’ head, eyes filled with want. With a warning. They reluctantly nodded their head, indulging themselves in an embrace with their boyfriend for longer than what he'd deem necessary.

It was simple. The plan was simple, and if Keres couldn't pull it off, then they'd just be stupid. And they didn't want to be stupid around Davis.

They knocked the door three times, pulling back their arm to hide it behind them. Maria opened the door shortly after.

She tilted her head, surprised at seeing one of her friends at her doorstep in the late hours of the night. “Keres?”

“Hi…”

“What are you doing here? Its super late, I'm pretty sure you–”

“Can I stay here?” Keres asked, the question coming out as a desperate plea. They could shed some tears if they set their mind to it. “I… I don't wanna ask for too much trouble, but can I? Please?”

Maria blinked. “I– Keres, why would you stay here? Did something happen?”

Something's going to happen, Keres answered in the back of their mind. They almost felt guilty for the events that would come moving forward.

They looked around, then behind them, cautioning the way they moved. “I… I feel like I'm being followed. Watched. I can barely sleep anymore, Maria, please I–”

“Alright,” Maria abruptly interjected, letting out a soft sigh and widened the gap of the open door to let her friend inside. “You can come in. My parents are coming home late anyway.”

Keres entered the threshold, a lump suddenly forming in their throat and tears very nearly filling the brim of their crimson eyes.

They felt horrible. More than that, they didn't want to do this— to partake in this twisted trick Davis was planning on Maria just because he hated her enough to want her gone.

It should have made them sick to their core. But even when it did, it didn't seem like it was enough. They started this fire, this mess. They needed to pick up the pieces in their wake.

Maria led Keres to the living room, sitting them both down. The former took the latter's hands, and it broke Keres’ heart to see the genuine concern in their friend's eyes.

“You said you were being watched,” Maria began, unsure of where this conversation could go. “Do… Do you have any idea on who's watching?”

“I– I feel like I'm being watched, I don't… I don't know who's doing the watching.”

“Have you talked to the authorities about it?”

“What? Maria, you know they'd never believe that–!”

“But what if they did?” Maria let go of their hands. “Keres, murders around town are getting worse, what if… I don't know, they're after you too?”

It was hard to find the stuck-up bitch that Davis described Maria to be. “Why would they?” Keres pressed onwards, hoping their tone didn't show how tense they were.

Maria shrugged. “Who knows? I mean, do serial killers even need a motive?”

“Everyone has a motive for something, Maria.”

“I mean, I get that, but y'know…”

Keres straightened themselves up. They leaned back against the head of Maria's couch, their shoulders losing tension and making way for them to relax a bit. As much as they could right now.

“I mean– They probably have a motive for something.” Their eyes darted towards the ceiling. Maria's family was the kind to own different vacation homes across states, and the decor of her house seemed to show that.

“I don't get serial killers, let's be honest here.”

“Hehe…. Yeah…” I'm dating a serial killer, Keres thought with slight regret. But mentioning that while said serial killing boyfriend is planning to break into Maria's house wasn't the best conversation starter.

You can't really just drop a bomb like, my boyfriend is the serial killer the police are looking for and he's planning to kill you.

Keres grimaced through a smile while Maria headed to the kitchen to get something they weren't paying enough attention to.

Their phone buzzed, and there were no surprises to be had as to who sent the text.

Davis 🖤: Ready? You know the drill.

Keres' attention spiraled between Davis' text and the fact that Maria wasn't too far away.

They had to do this, right? Maria was always a stick in the mud, always trying to get up into everybody's business just to get some entertainment value! A no good piece of shit doesn't get mercy in this day and age, Davis would say.

But something bothered Keres. Something that's been conflicting them for quite some time, even until today— and it was the fact that Maria… seemed like nothing that Davis described her to be.

But that was the case with a lot of people, wasn't it? Keres' grip on their phone tightened. They act nice, at first, but the moment they discover something about you that they don't like, they…

Keres scoffed. Davis was right. What was the point behind mindless contemplation over the obvious? They didn't have much time. He was probably in the house by now, waiting for them to strike.

Little Red ❤️: Got it.

From the inner pockets of their leather jacket, Keres waltzed into Maria's kitchen with a drug that'll bide them time until Davis showed up.

All they needed to do was find a way to put the pill in Maria's mouth.

Luckily for Keres, Maria was preparing to drink some water while she was looking through the pantry. All they had to do was drop the pill into her glass, let it evaporate and do its job from there.

“I think the police are full of shit for not finding the bastard by now,” Maria said, emerging from the pantry after finding a pack of chips.

“You never know…” Keres leaned against the kitchen counter with the barest glimpse of hesitation. “There could be two killers.”

Maria shuddered. “Don't jinx it for us. I'd rather not think about it too long.”

You're in the room with one of them, Keres barely managed to keep from saying. Davis might've done the killing… but I played my part.

The phone calls to the victims right before Davis took the killing blow, were one of many things they'd done. An accomplice to a murderer who just so happened to be their boyfriend of several months.

Maria picked up the class and held it close to her lips while she and Keres talked, the latter watching her with bated breath and hoping that their heavy breathing wasn't as much of a dead giveaway as it was.

It was. “You okay, Keres?”

Keres let out an awkward cough. “Yeah, I'm– I'm good.”

Maria stared skeptically, but blessed be, she didn't question it. Instead she chose to shrug it off, presumably planning to bring it up a little later, and downed the glass of drugged up water in one go.

It shouldn't have affected Keres as much as it did when Maria began to collapse, falling unconscious and shattering the glass.

What startled them even more was when they felt a leather-gloved hand touch their shoulder.

“You did good, Red.”

“... Davis.” Keres breathed out relief. They probably shouldn't have felt as relaxed as they were.

They felt Davis press his lips to the back of their head, pulling them close by the waist. Whatever his other hand was holding, Keres deeply suspected that it was the shovel they bought at the department store for less than a couple dollars.

“... I feel bad.” Keres looked at Davis, praying and hoping that he'd understand what they're currently feeling. “Is that bad?”

Davis chuckled, tilting their chin and pressing a gentle kiss to their lips. Keres' mind seemed to go blank, melting under Davis' embrace and reciprocating his advances.

It shouldn't have been so easy to get them to his side. But it was. And Davis revelled in it.

“You'll get over it, Red…” Davis mumbled against their lips, giving them one last peck. “That's what narcissistic shitfucks like Maria do to us: they make us feel bad for them so they can hold something over us.”

“Narcissists are too busy thinking about themselves to realize they got played.”

【 Taglist / Credits 】

↳ In order of OC appearances/mentions

Camilla Marigold — Me 😈

Maria Alarik — @jasdiary

Keres — @hallowed-delights / @terrovaniadorm

Lancelot Novellion — Also Me 😈

Davidson Lucretius — Also (2) Me 😈

@starry-night-rose | @authoruio | @fumikomiyasaki | @sakuramidnight15 | @nem0-nee | @twsted-princess | @mystery-skulls-ghost | @lueerhythm