Halfblood [King|Alber × Reader]

Six

You shiver and touch the shallow wound of your skin, trying to regain your consciousness. You groan and shake your head before you stand up.

"I am not who?" you ask, raising your head.

Rage sparkles in his eyes, but it just makes your fists clench in frustration.

Your vision starts to clear.

I didn't fight my way out of Mariejois to stay silent.

"Just because you lost someone, you can't-"

He steps closer to you, and you bite off the end of your sentence as you sense the radical change in his emotions.

It overwhelms you so much that you gasp for air, backing off.

And he talks before you would pull yourself together.

"I never lost her," he growls deeply, closing the distance between you and him.

You feel the slight trembling of the air from his Haki, his pain radiating to turn it even more powerful.

"She was taken away from me."

You take a step back again to keep him away. Such sorrow blooms over his features that you can't feel anything else than empathy.

Even when King lifts his hand once more, you only thrill, closing your eyes to get ready for the next hit.

But you freeze as he sets a wandering lock behind your ear carefully, slowly.

For this brief moment, you forget everything he has ever done to you because nobody touched you with such tenderness before.

Even if it's rather for a memory than me.

"I shouldn't have slapped you," he whispers.

When you look up, you scowl as you see how he fights against himself to say this.

The sharp jaw tenses as he forces them out, the glowing eyes turning distant and opaline.

"But I told the truth before. I do not see you as a slave here. If I lose control, I need you to defend yourself. The only one here who can make you a slave is yourself."

He takes a deep breath and pulls his hand back, straightening his back. You feel so irrationally small as the height difference reminds you.

"How do I know you won't kill me when you lose control?" you ask, fighting against the weight blocking the way of air in your throat before it would form your words.

"You don't. And I can't promise I won't," answers King after a few seconds of silence. "You will die by my hand one day anyway. It's been decided."

"By who?"

"You were given a choice before I showed you my face, weren't you?" tilts the man his head, and your muscles suddenly relax.

Your mind calms down, and your thoughts become clear.

I was.

But why do I feel like it was still worth it? He wouldn't let me go either way.

And this way, I can see him.

"And the child who was here?" you ask, still searching for hope. "She saw your face, and you still let her go."

"Yamato is the daughter of the man for whom I owe my life," shrugs King, walking to his bed.

You stay at the place where you were standing until now and watch as he starts braiding back the hair the little girl messed up.

"She's an exception who would never tell my secret. I trust her."