𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 (𝘔𝘶𝘻𝘢𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 - 𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲

DISOBEDIENCE.

You were enjoying Douma's company. He had taken you to the mall and bought you a dress he thought would have suited your perfectly. You had tried to protest, tugging at his arm to drag him away from the shop, but nor your words, neither your strength worked as a deterrent for him.

He was hilarious. Maybe way too sarcastic at times and his dark sense of humor had made you question his sanity more than once. However, he was exactly the type of person you could easily talk to about anything. Additionally, you felt safe around him. While taking a break from your duties, to elaborate the 'not-so-shocking' news about Muzan and his villainous antics, had managed to calm you down, you could not look at Douma as a common bodyguard anymore.

He was an assassin. A friendly assassin.

Then again, you were living with a bunch of serial killers. What could possibly go wrong? They did not seem to keen to slaughter you. At least, not yet. They were all loyal to Muzan, though, and it was obvious that they would have never laid a finger on you, as long as you were under his protective wing. However, you knew that, if your 'boyfriend' suddenly decided to get rid of you, they would have not hesitated to chop your head off and throw it at his feet.

Around noon, Douma drove you to a fancy restaurant. Everything was delicious and, as you expected, extremely expensive. He insisted to pay the bill again and you had no other choice but let him do it. You did not know if it was part of his job, or if it was just his way to flirt with you. While he had never really stopped complimenting you, he had still not wasted any given chance to flirt with every woman passing by.

You got easily flustered by his seductive mannerism, but crossing the line was not in your plans. Also, Douma was what you would have defined as a walking red flag.

But if Douma was a red flag, Muzan was a red blanket.

"You didn't have to, you know. I am not your girlfriend" you said, glancing at the tall man beside you briefly, as you walked out of the restaurant.

You felt slightly embarrassed. You still had your own money to spend. Although you were going to financially depend from Muzan, you had worked for two years at the restaurant and you had saved enough money to pay for a lunch.

Douma grinned, putting his sunglasses on casually "I know, but I wanted to. What kind of a man would I be, if I let you pay?" he declared, tucking his hand into the pocket of his trousers to draw the keys of his car out of it.

You narrowed your eyes at your morning companion "Do you mean that Muzan did not tell you to pay for whatever I need?" you inquired, rubbing the back of your neck in distress.