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⧏♱⧐
A woman silently walked along the empty halls that seemed to echo with empty voices.
Her head slowly started to get crammed with whispers that didn't cease even when she desperately covered her ears.
Shutting her eyes, she harshly bit her lip, which soon began to slightly bleed.
As she continued walking, trying to keep herself upright, a sudden gasp escaped her when she looked up to see you and a.. man who walked behind you.
"Emiko, are you alright?"
She instantly straightened herself and strained herself to put on a normal expression, one that didn't show the discomfort she was in after hearing your solicitous tone.
"Yes Ma'am, I'm fine, no need to worry about me."
Putting on a smile, she looked at the man who stood behind you, who was seemingly lost in his own world as he gazed at the painting on the wall.
"Is this real?" He politely asked, his gaze not turning away.
"It indeed is, sir," Emiko responded, still curious as to who this man was.
"In fact, it was Miss Y/N who had managed to get a hold of this historical painting," She continued.
You turned back and looked at the painting as well.
"Oh.. this painting, you know I had to waste two nights of sleep for this piece of shit, and he hung it up in a random hallway. All of my efforts wasted for nothing, tch," You complained with an annoyed look.
"Is that so?.. Nonetheless, I do not think it's a waste," Kuroro replied as his gaze was finally taken away from the painting and put on you.
"Really?.." You questioned, raising an eyebrow in doubt as you cocked your head to the side.
"Yes, love."
At his response, Emiko turned her head repeatedly from you to Kuroro confusingly, suspecting something was going on between you both.
"Um... is there something I'm missing..miss?"
You glanced back at Emiko, deciding what to tell her. Just then, Kuroro spoke.
"Is it alright if I tell her?" he asked. "Or do you wish to tell her yourself?"
A muscle in your jaw twitched as his caressing voice reached your ears.
You hung back for a moment, taking in his question, speculating his motive. But perhaps... you were brooding too much for just a harmless question.
You wanted to keep up your guard because you had a feeling that if you let your guard down even for a second round this man, he could easily slip in.
You were paranoid.
It seemed like you were always the one who got the short end of the stick, the one who was left uninformed.
