☠︎︎𝑴𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒊 𝑰𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒂 𝑿 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑯𝑪☠︎︎

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝑬𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈

2391 words ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"There's something I've been meaning to discuss with you."

You don't look up from your book. You don't so much as acknowledge her with a noise, because any reaction is as good as an invitation to Midari. And right now, you're tired, frustrated, dealing with a indescribable itch for something that you can't possibly scratch. Freedom, normalcy, a concrete future–all the things that are very far from your grasp.

So suffice to say, you're not really in the mood for a discussion, debate, mind game or dissection–which is usually what she's aiming for when she tries to draw you into a conversation. You'd rather read your book and lose yourself in its beautifully compelling words, if only for a little while.
And it truly is only a little while, because your silence doesn't deter her.
"You know that I desire a stronger relationship with you."

The main character in your book has agreed to meet with a mysterious detective, at midnight, on the docks. A very stupid move.
"And so far you have been... resistant to the idea."

She even lies to her husband and tells him she'll be at her sisters that night. What a moron.
"I believe that there is a reason behind this. Something that, thus far, you've been unwilling to discuss with me."

The words make your muscles freeze for a moment, the fate-tempting midnight-meeting blonde in your book dissolving away at the meaning of her words. It takes significant mental strength to restrain the expression that wants to burst forth from your core. You want to gape, mouth open, and ask her if she's fucking serious. You want to shake your head in disbelief and push yourself off the couch and stomp off to another room in the Academy, anywhere but the room where she's sitting, perched, voice collected. As if what she said was reasonable, as if any of this was reasonable.

But those options would be giving her ammunition, giving her too much of yourself–and so you strain with effort to keep yourself closed off.
"I can think of a few reasons," you say, finally, voice barely above a murmur. "For one, you kidnapped me and are holding me against my will." Although there's clear venom behind your words, you try to keep your voice even and disinterested. You turn a page in your book even though you're not finished reading it, to give the impression that the conversation is simply that mundane, that uninteresting. She might as well move on, right?
Your eyes close for a second longer than necessary when the sofa sinks, when you see and feel her taking the spot next to you. Your body presses against the other end of the sofa as far as it allows, but if she keeps this up, you'll have to figure out a way to retreat completely. Bathroom break? Getting a snack? Taking a shower? Something boring, but necessary. Anything that will pivot the conversation away from her and you and your so-called relationship.

"And the other reasons?"

"Fuck" you think "I left an opening"

She's close, too close, and you hate the low, rumbling tone her voice takes on when she's trying to lull you into answering her. Like well-chosen bait on a hook. Smooth, charismatic, deceptively enticing. You suppose it works readily for others, you suppose she has no problem convincing people into telling her what she wants to know; into letting her hold them, touch them, spill all their secrets and do whatever she wants, if that's what she needs out of them. You try not to think about whether these people lived to tell their tales.

You turn another page, words again unread. "Ah, I misspoke. Sorry. Only one reason." Maybe if you keep your words clipped, maybe if you pretend that she's not getting to you, she'll give up and go away.