LOVE: UNLIMITED - D.K X READER

10 - OCCHIOLISM

What seemed to be an ephialtes. 

A gunshot piercing you on your arm and shooting inside your fragile insides, ricochetting and tearing past your walls. No defence - a deathly situation. And you'd still managed to make it out alive.

Anabiosis.

Granted, you didn't make it out by yourself. You'd had the help of him. Your saviour - the angel carrying you out of ruins. It scared you sometimes how much you valued him. It hurt to want to help him more than yourself. You just wanted to save him - from something, so you could feel like letting Haru die on the terrace had a payoff. The amount of regret pulling you down every single time you woke up was enough to act like an anvil to the head.

And you still kept going.

There wasn't a reason to. You had your friends, sure - and your job. But seeing him die truly reminded you that no matter how much you run, death will find you. You can't run from death; it only makes it faster.

You felt like crying.

You normally did, but this time it was worse.

Being mocked in such a way by Haru's supposed old friend was one of the worst blows you'd had all week. Despite the shooting range, despite the failure to help on the drug case - the simple idea that your situation wasn't valid broke you.

You fidgeted with your fingers.

The drumming in your head correlated to beats louder than thoughts. Each inhale would bring another pulse, chest rising, your body overheating. It was a cold day, too.

"The shinkansen train boarding area is currently..."

The words of the attendees and crowd around you faded into a blur of a pulsating rhythm. People waved their hands, pulled out phones, scrunched their faces.. but you heard nothing. The drumming. It was so, so loud.

Thum-thump, thump-thump.

Your trajectory was aimed at the train station's exit. You kept finding something to distract yourself with; your fingers, the nails. The way you could twist and turn your fingers and make it look broken. You weren't the flexible type, but the uncanny way your hands could move around eachother and wrap themselves in different positions was almost unsettling. Not to you, because they were your hands, but maybe to the person standing next to you.

The person standing next to you...

Thump-thump, thump-thump.

..In a suit - a black overcoat with a red button-up.

Thump-thump, thump-thump-

With blue eyes, gleaming at you with caution.

Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump-

And a rigid jawline, features defined by the lighting.

Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-

"Are you working hard on your job, (L/n)?"

Everything stopped.

"Kambe..?" You'd mumbled, hot embers rising from your chest to your face. You'd said his name - spoken it softly, a plead for release of the terribleness within you. You wanted to get out of your own skin; to be free of the beating rhythm, growing louder after every step.

He must've heard it - the exhaustion in your tone, because his mouth opened to say something - anything. He'd been taken aback by the shift in emotions stirring within him. He had his questions, and saved them for a time he knew neither of you would have time to talk about. You had yours, too - why was he here?