Wild Cards (JJBA Villains x Reader)

23| Blood in the Red Room

HI IM BACK

I took such a long break but i think i should be good to give you guys some updates for a while, lots of crazy stuff happening but that's how life works

i hope everyone's doing well :)

This is your daily reminder that in canon Esidesi is a big baby bitch and a total drama queen

-------------

3k words, sorry if there's any mistakes

-------------

And it is with a distaste for the morning you wake with, peeling away the warm arm draped over your own and tossing it back to the body of a pitiful man. 

A shower and change of attire were in order to rid yourself of the gross feelings the previous night stained you with, having to share a bed with an absolute imbecile of a man who refuses to resign to his own, brat.

He is still there, slumbering away, when you finish, and you take the moment to flick him off before closing the door silently behind you as you leave.

A shock, Brooklyn is immediately there to greet you. Only a few feet from the door she lingers, the blanket you had thrown-- given to her graciously, wrapped around her small shoulders. 

"Thank you for letting me stay on your couch, Mx. (Y/n)." She says, and for once she does not sound so timid. 

"You're fine." You dismiss her with a roll of your eyes and step around her to get to your desk. She follows you with heavy paces, the blanket dragging behind in a cape that glides along the floor. 

For a moment, she watches you. Simply watches, as you scan each document quickly, sign it, make notes, and move on. And in-between those actions, she watches as your eyes subtly flicker green, like a dying light within a broken house. She scoots forward.

You do your best to ignore her, for that is the only well action you can take when there's so much to do. Her lavender eyes, round and curious, continue to blankly stare as if she was some haunted porcelain doll. She scoots forward.

By now it has become a bother, there's a burning against the side of your skull where she looks endlessly, and against your papers, where she will sometimes advert her attention to for only a moment. At this point she has now scooted so close her chin rests on your armrest. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" You ask.

"I just want to watch you."

"That's unnecessary. Go play with dolls, or something."

"I don't have any.

"Then go play with the dust in the closet, I don't care."

You see it, you can see her begin to recede back into her shell. Her head ducks and she pulls herself inward, stepping away. Something about it, it reminds you of your younger self, and though she does not face the same trials of life as you did, it strikes something within you.

Sympathy. Even the word itself made you want to barf, since when did you sympathize with anyone. That has gotten you into trouble in the past, and it continues to do so in the present. And yet..

You will do unto another as D'Arby had done unto you. Though he was no father figure he treated you with kindness others would not, even if it was simply tolerance in disguise.

Brooklyn shows her surprise when you turn in your chair to pick her up, and place her onto your lap. She's rigid and nearly frozen at the action, sitting stiffly on your thighs with the blanket hugging her still. You set a blank paper in front of her, and a pen.