***KILLER POV***
"Again? Is he really being such a little bitch?"
My patience was paper thin at this point. It felt like I was surrounded by children. Kid, who was acting like a spoiled brat, and (Y/N), who was displaying behaviour I could only describe as self-destructive.
"Said he wasn't hungry." Jaguar shrugged, though I could tell he was a little antsy, having to deal with me. That was something I couldn't blame him for. Rolling my eyes, I snatched the bowl of stew and marched my way out of the kitchen and through the castle, down the stone steps to Kid's workshop.
My knock was aggressive, to say the least, the door buckling with each hit.
"YOU HAVE UNTIL THE COUNT OF THREE TO GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE AND TAKE YOUR DAMN DINNER, YOU MORON! ONE-"
The door opened before I could count to two, Kid's pinched, bitter expression glaring at me, matching my own, which I had hidden beneath my helmet.
"I ain't fuckin' hungry." Kid growled through his teeth, and I took a moment to really look at him.
The bags under his eyes were the heaviest I'd seen them, sinking down towards his cheeks. His hair was limp and messy, unsupported by his goggles, which were now hanging loose around his neck. He kept the loss of his arm hidden behind the door, but I could see it in my mind. Haunting me.
"Just...try. If you don't eat, fine, but at least take it, just in case." I sighed, the bite in my voice suddenly less sharp. I was still colossally pissed at him, but I had to remind myself that he was hurting too. "You really need to talk to (Y/N), she-"
Without so much as a grunt, Kid snatched the bowl from my hand and slammed the door in my face, the echo ringing in my ears.
I'm gonna wring his neck.
Throwing my arms up in the air, I muttered every foul curse I knew as I turned and made my way back up the stairs. We couldn't keep going on like this. The entire crew would fall apart eventually. (Y/N) would fall apart. I would fall apart...but he just didn't seem to care.
"Oi, where's the brat?" It was all I could really call her, as of late. (Y/N) seemed like she was doing everything in her power to get under my skin without even realising it. I had already lost count of how many times I had slung her over my shoulder and carried her back to her room, but unless I imposed a hard ban on all things alcoholic, which wouldn't bode well, there was no fixing it.
"Saw 'er go outside about an hour ago, give or take." Compo thumbed over his shoulder as I passed him by. "Told 'er not to wander too far, since it's dark'n all."
Great. Just what I need. A lost drunk.
Steeling myself, I simply nodded and headed outside, praying that she'd be close by. Things needed to be discussed, and soon, but it was impossible when she was being so immature. No, that wasn't the way to describe it. She was suffering her own kind of loss, I knew that, but she needed to direct her pained energy somewhere other than the bottom of a bottle.
The tension in my shoulders relaxed when I found her sitting down by the path, right before the ground began to slope. Just sitting, staring out towards the dark, calm ocean. She looked peaceful, from the back, ends of her (H/C) hair slightly catching the breeze.
What really took me, however, was the fact she was wearing my old, polka-dot shirt.
"A thief never quits, huh?" I spoke up, and she tilted her neck backwards, almost uncomfortably far, instead of turning around.
"Hmmm? Oh, yeh. S'cold." The way she spoke didn't surprise me anymore. I hadn't heard her speak in a clear, unslurred voice for too long now.
"You can keep it if you want. Suits you better, anyway." I would have been a lying son of a bitch if I had said my offer hadn't partially been due to the fact that a testosterone-fuelled part of me liked seeing her wear my things, but it wasn't the only reason. I couldn't even fit into it anymore.
"Sweeeeeeet. Makes me feel safe, I guess. Like you're always around'n stuff." She sat back up properly to continue gazing towards the ocean and I ran my hand down the face of my helmet. My patience wasn't the only thing wearing thin. My self control wasn't faring much better.
When I moved closer, the scent of whiskey hit me like a slap to the face, and I quickly glanced to the empty bottle beside her in the grass.
"Okay, bath, then bedtime. You reek." She didn't fight me when I picked her up, but she braced herself with a hand on my chest so I wouldn't sling her over my shoulder.
"I'm not potatoes, Killz, so don't go throwin' me around like a sack've 'em 'nless you're gonna make it fun~" How could I have trained so much, so vigorously, and been so unprepared for that? I didn't dare respond to the blatant, booze-spurred flirt, and just spun on my heel to carry her inside.
Be calm, be rational. She doesn't realise what she's doing. Neither does Kid. You've got to be the adult here. Don't slip. Don't.
Once I had a bath run for her, and ensured she was at least capable of not drowning herself, I made my way to her room. I never liked going through the belongings of my crew mates, but I had to try to limit her intake as much as I could.
In drawers, under clothes, even inside her pillowcase. She had hidden bottles she'd stolen from the kitchen everywhere. Even in the cat's bed, and I didn't at all appreciate having to touch the oozing, oily skin-bag to retrieve it.
Making sure they were safely back in the kitchen, locked elsewhere, I returned to the bathroom in time to meet her as she came out, yet again wearing my spotted shirt, the buttons done wrong, and far too few for my heart.
"You still smell like drink..." I muttered, glad she couldn't see the red in my face as I fixed her buttons once we'd returned to her room. I kept my eyes on her face, but that only meant I was trapped by her eyes.
"I dunno why. Maybe the soap is alcoholic or some'fin..."
So she's hidden some in there too? Fucking hell...
"No more. Seriously, you're gonna end up killing yourself." I squished her cheeks between my hands, which wasn't a great idea. She looked adorable, blinking up at me with those (E/C) eyes of hers.
"I'll consider it ifffffffffff...you show me your face."
That had been her consistent bargaining request. Every time I would ask her to do something, anything, she'd ask me to take my helmet off. I would do it, too. Every single time. I couldn't say no to her, and it was my biggest vice.
Off it came, and as usual, I avoided her direct gaze, staring at the wall behind her head instead.
"You happy now?" It wasn't discomfort I felt each time this occurred. It was a kind of embarrassment, or perhaps nervousness. I wasn't used to people seeing me as I truly was, and I felt exposed. Vulnerable.
My jaw clicked tight when she wrapped her arms around my middle, her cheek resting on my chest.
"Can I ask ya somethin'?" She asked, trying to rock me side to side with her but failing to do so.
"Mmm?" I hummed in response, stilling her with a hand to her upper arm.
"Kid told me to go be with you...Did he say somethin' similar to you, or nah?" Whilst only slightly slurred, it had been the clearest she had spoken to me in weeks, but I couldn't celebrate that. Not after that question.
"Look...Kid doesn't cope with loss well. He never has...so you can't take much of what he says seriously when he's like this. Just give it ti-"
"Did he?" She wasn't going to accept my attempt at avoiding an answer, much to my chagrin.
"So what if he did? I told you, he-" I was named for what I was. A killer. A brutish force to be messed with. So why did I let her knock me back onto the bed so easily? Was it because I was distracted?
I froze up, seeing (Y/N) straddling me, her hands planted either side of my head, tangled within my hair. It wasn't a foreign sight to me, after many nights of having very similar dreams, but this time I was petrified.
"So...why not?" The way she said it was so casual, like a passing question at the dinner table, yet it had every cell of my body on fire. "Be with me."
There was a taste of her, beneath the smooth bite of alcohol on her tongue, and it had me by the metaphorical throat. Instinctively, my hands found her waist, holding her close to me, just like I had so many times in fantasy.
This had been the build up to waking up night after night in a hot sweat, pulse racing and sheets sticky. Feeling her body against mine, squirming and whining for me as I fucked her until she saw god himself.
Wait...
My jeans grew taut as she ground down against me, refusing more than a quick, desperate gasp between deep, Starving kisses. She seized one of my wrists and slowly dragged it up her body, beneath my stolen shirt, until my hand was grasping her bare breast.
This isn't...
One particularly aggressive grind sent a frightfully delightful shudder throughout my entire body, and the sound she made in response left me with very little blood to my brain.
"Killer..."
No.
Not once had I ever moved so fast. Flipping her onto her back, I had her pinned, keeping myself well above her. Her immediate change in expression told me that mine wasn't betraying what I was feeling.
"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!" I didn't want to yell at her like this, ever, but that was it. That fraying rope had finally snapped. "Us?! Be together?! You're in love with Kid! I'm not some toy for you to use, (Y/N)! I have a fucking heart, and the fact that you know it beats for you, and you still thought this was okay, is fucked up!"
"B..But, I-"
"You're messing with my head! You and he both! It's just cruel! I'm not hard-wired to cope with this kind of shit! You almost got away with it, too! We'd never come back from that! What the fuck?!" I hadn't meant to word vomit, but I couldn't stop myself. It had been building up, day after day, and this was the final straw.
Finally, the red I was seeing began to clear, and my heart broke. (Y/N) stared up at me, tears streaming down the sides of her face, wetting her pillow.
"I..I'm sorry...I'm so s..sorry...I didn't wanna hurt you...I don't wanna hurt you..."
No. She's drunk. She didn't mean this. You took this out on her when she didn't know how to cope with things either...
"Shit...No, hey, no no no, I didn't mean to snap like that..." I was off her in an instant, moving to her side and pulling her into my arms, feeling even more like dirt. "I just...I love you...You know I love you...and it just...None of this is working..."
We brought this on ourselves...
My chest was still hammering after what had transpired, but I could panic about that later. (Y/N) buried her face into my chest, and I held her close, in a whole different way than I had been minutes earlier.
"You're drunk...What kind of person would I be if I'd let it go any further, huh..?" I tried to lessen the blow of the rejection, even though I wasn't sure whether that was even part of what had made her cry. "I'm sorry...I won't yell at you again, I promise. Not like that...I was just...It hurts. We're all hurting right now..."
She nodded against my chest, and I closed my eyes, willing away my own human urge to cry as well. Everything was too much, and I wasn't strong enough to deal with it. None of us seemed to be.
"K..Killer..?" After a while, (Y/N) spoke up, her voice so small and sad, which struck far too many of my already overwhelmed heartstrings. "I wanna go home..."
Without much thought, I immediately pulled her closer, nosing into her messed hair and pressing the lightest of kisses atop her head, unsure whether I wanted her to feel it or not. The thought of losing her hurt more than being used by her, but I couldn't stop her. She wasn't a prisoner anymore. It was her choice, and I couldn't say a thing against it.
"O..okay, sweetheart...I'll take you home..."
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***Me: I love Killer so much!
Also me: Hurt him :)
Next Time: Release***