Author's Note: I just recently watched K over the weekend and instantly fell in love with Mikoto. I had an idea swirling in my head all day, so I figured why not go for it. This story, well I don't know if you can call it a legitimate story; however it will be kind of a drabble series about Mikoto and my OC. In a way, I guess you could call this a plot bunny and each chapter will more than likely be under 1000 words. I hope you enjoy it!
Summary: She was like smoke to him, breathing her in and breathing her out. She was intoxicating, and while he wasn't sure why it was her, he was glad that he found her.
ONE
Every Sunday afternoon he was there like clockwork.
It would be Sunday at exactly 3:20 pm when he would walk by with a lit cigarette in his mouth. His hands were shoved in his fur-lined jacket. Around his neck was a very intricate looking necklace that hung in the middle of his chest. His eyes were this burning amber, similar to the dying flames of a fire. His hair was a vibrant scarlet red; he was very hard to miss. He always managed to catch her eye, but she never made her presence known.
She sat on the stone fountain edge with a sketch pad in her lap and a pencil tucked behind her ear. Her hair was normally in a side braid that trailed down one of her slender shoulders. He would walk right in front of her, every Sunday at exactly 3:20 pm. His eyes were normally fixated on the path ahead of him and nowhere else. After the fourth time he passed her by, she felt inspired.
Another four times passed and finally, she managed to finish her drawing of him. It was an amazing likeness; she drew him from several angles. In the top right corner was an angled view of simply his face and shoulders. Below that was a drawing of him walking down the stairs that lead to the path in front of the fountain. Finally on the left side of the page was a sketch of him walking directly in front of her. She even had his cigarette sketched in with a small trail of smoke.
The ninth time he walked by there was a strong breeze blowing. She hadn't anticipated it at all and in one powerful gust several pages from her sketch book fluttered away. Gasping in shock, she quickly tried to catch all five pages that flew away. Unfortunately, she had only managed to catch three of them. With a disappointed sigh, she stood back up and walked towards the fountain. She tucked the pages back into the sketch book and decided to head back to her apartment. It was far to windy to stay out and sketch anything.
"These yours?" a gruff voice came from behind her.
She whipped around quickly, seeing one of her sketches inches from her face. She stumbled back and nearly fell into the fountain, but managed to catch herself. "Yes, thank you," she said politely with a bright smile as she took them. When she looked up to the person, her eyes widened and her mouth fell open.
Scarlet hair, amber eyes, cigarette in his mouth, and a comfy looking fur-lined jacket. All of the sudden her heart skipped a beat, her cheeks felt like they were burning, and she wasn't sure what to say next. Of course, the sketches he picked up where of him. Not that he seemed bothered by it in the slightest, but maybe he hadn't really looked at them.
She cleared her throat and placed the sketches behind her back. "I'm Kira," she introduced with a humble bow.
He looked a bit dubious as he stared at her with a blank expression. He was quite tall, she barely reached his shoulders. The way he was looking at her intimidated her, and if anything, his expression was bored and blank. Kira wasn't sure what to say or do next, but he kept staring at her like he wanted to say something.
"Hm," he hummed as he stood up a little straighter and walked away without saying another word. Kira closed her mouth and furrowed her brows in confusion. Perhaps it was best that he hadn't said anything about her sketches. If he had, she might have passed out from embarrassment. The real question was what would he do the next Sunday afternoon.