тяαηѕρσятєd [Reader x Various]

:21:

  Menma slammed his fist on the wall next to (Name)'s head. The bang echoed through the small cabin-like home sending shivers down (Name)'s back. Menma has never acted this way before now. (Name) watched him in worry. Her radiant (e/c) eyes reflected his bowed head and trembling shoulders in the candle-lighting. She bit her lip, remembering that his were once there. The sassy, smart side of her was cowering, not knowing what to do, how to react.

She was scared. Perhaps she shouldn't have said anything...No! He had to have known that this day would come...

Hesitantly, she touched his arm, which had black gloves that went up to his triceps and strapped with maroon leather harnesses. His trembling stopped. "Whiskers?" She murmured, afraid that her voice might break something more than silence. 

"It's happening." Menma's voice rose at the end of his sentence. (Name) let go of his arm. 

"What?" She cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows furrowed quizzically.

"I'm such an idiot," he growled. He took his fist from the wall and swung it in the air. "Dammit!" (Name) clenched her teeth and strode over to Menma, hand raised. 

Slap! 

"Stop it, will yah?!" (Name) cried, tears flooding her eyes. "Don't you know you are scaring the hell outta me?!" Menma looked at her, pained. He then turned his gaze down while furrowing his brows. He gently touched the spot where the ghost of (Name)'s hand lingered. (Name) swallowed and averted her vision. "Everything about you is a mystery..." She whispered and wiped away an escaping tear. She sucked in deeply. "Yet somehow...I feel like I've known you forever and I have no idea why, but I need answers! It's been eating away at me, tearing me apart!" She demanded. 

Menma looked up and carefully held her gaze. He opened his mouth to speak, but then snapped it shut. He pulled away his eyes and ran his hands through his raven hair, frustrated. How could he possibly explain? (Name) watched him intently, wondering what was going on inside of his head. She had already figured out there was something about him that gave her a strange sense of Deja Vu. He knows something-- something dark. Every inch of her crawled with chills when she looked at him. She suddenly realized how hot the pendant around her neck was. She had gotten so used to it that she never really paid attention to it much anymore. She let out a deep sigh, and pushed past him. "I'm going to my room. Whenever you feel like you are ready to actually tell me things, I'll be there." She strode away, giving him another look before slamming the door. 

I'm useless, completely and utterly useless--!

How could he hurt her like that? On the other hand, what else could he have done? He knew, of course he knew the answers to the questions she was seeking. He just couldn't see why he should risk her resenting him; he couldn't take it if she resented him. Yet, he still feels an excruciatingly strong urge to yank open her door and spill all the secrets he kept, to protect her, at her feet. 

He felt a pang in his chest. Perhaps, she already resented him, and his punishment for getting too close...

Has already begun.