𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐕𝐈

Misaki bowed her head at the taller girl, shaking slightly. Saturday laced his long slender fingers comfortingly with hers hidden behind his broad back so the artist couldn't see.

"I'm trying to uncover the truth. And your art seems to have a recurring motif." the boy says calmly and softly as he glances at the large canvas next to them. Xaviera looks down, and her eyes dart around nervously. 

"Yeah." her reply was subdued as her eyes shift nervously on the large canvas. Saturday and Misaki both sensed something was up.

"This creature's been haunting my dreams for the past couple weeks." she confessed quietly. Saturday's eyes drilled into her interrogatively.

"I try to block it out, but I can't. So I just...come in here and paint it." she continuously moves her face as her eyes dart all over the place, unable to meet the boy's sharp, cold gaze.

"When I was painting this one," Saturday's eyes dart to the large canvas with the grotesque caricature as Xaviera pointed one hand to the large drawing while the other motioned to her neck. "the claws reached out and took a swipe at me."

She looks into Saturday's eyes, then immediately looks to the floor. "That's how I got these scratches." she says sourly.

"I thought you were able to control your ability." the boy returned cooly, not an ounce of sympathy in his cold, deep voice.

Xaviera looks into his eyes and shakes her head, her brown hair unmoving as it was tied firmly in a low bun, then glances back at her large drawing. "Not when it comes to this thing." her eyes flickered down.

"Maybe it's just your guilty conscience." Saturday replied cuttingly.

"I told you I'm not the monster, okay?" her voice was dangerously on the rise again.

Saturday let go of Misaki's small cold hand temporarily and pulls the red tinted, swirled picture of the monster out of his slate. He holds it open in front of him, showing Xaviera her own handiwork.

"So you just happened to draw pictures of it, down to the location of its lair in the woods?" he interrogates coldly.

Xaviera had turned her head to look at the large canvas. "Those are some pretty vivid dreams." Saturday says calmly, his deep voice low.

Xaviera turns her head slightly towards Saturday. "You were in here." she says accusingly. "Before, when I caught you two outside."

Their eyes burned scorchingly into each other. "That's the only reason you asked me to the Raven'N isn't it?" she asks, her thin brown eyebrows furrowed, her thin voice offensive but hurt.

Saturday looks slightly down.

"To try and cover." she accuses, as his eyes look into hers once more.

She shakes her head. "You are unbelievable." her arm comes down hard into the empty air.

Saturday flings his black slate back on his shoulder, grabbing Misaki's hand behind his back. Xaviera catches this action this time. "It's nothing personal." he replies cooly.

"No, it never is with you, is it?" she cries, feeling betrayed, throwing her arms wildly around her. "I mean, do you even care about anyone or...or anything at all, Saturday?" her raw words unexpectedly made the tall, pale boy think. Did he care? For some reason only Misaki's gentle face flashed continuously through him. It irked him to no end. He didn't like or want such an obvious weakness to be displayed out in the open.

The boy's eyes slightly looked down. Xaviera's thin eyebrows were furrowed as she confronted the tall, lean boy in front of her. She was panting with exhaustion.

"Miss Thorpe, Master Saturday is the most caring person I have ever met." Misaki's soft, melodic and unexpected voice cut through the wounded up girl's thoughts and her young Master's. But instead of soothing the young artist like it did for her young Master and many other people, it just sent her vexed nerves through the roof.

"Get out! Both of you!" she roared, pointing with a hand at the doors.

Saturday's shining obsidian eyes still looked down at her.

The artist blinked and breathed heavily, her raised arm shaking slightly.

Saturday adjusted the slate hand on his shoulder and walked out the door, pulling his shivering, petite maid by the hand, closing it after them. Xaviera couldn't look in their direction, as she kept her full attention on the large canvas, depicting the horrendous, bloody art of the monster, in all its monstrosity.

The artist pulls on the light handle, and the room goes dark.

☟☟☟