Title: Drinking Alone
Fandom: Witch Hunter
Characters: Words; Eunryu
Rating: PG
Summary: Words doesn't appreciate Eunryu's nighttime intrusions.
Notes/Warnings: This ship makes little to no sense. I regret nothing.
Over time, Words learned to anticipate Eunryu's arrival. It wasn't hard; Eunryu always appeared, unfailing, during Words' precious few moments of privacy. This irritated him. Reading and drinking (his truest loves, beyond Carena and Cooga) ought not to be interrupted. Fine wines relaxed him too much for company, and the classics made him nostalgic.
He was contented then - or as close to contented as he'd come since they took his left eye - and Eunryu hadn't earned the privilege of his smile.
So long as Eunryu didn't catch him at anything exceptionally private, he forewent confrontation. He warned Eunryu all of once against visiting unannounced, but Eunryu'd only grinned his wolfish grin and carried on as per usual.
Words left it at that.
The issue wasn't worth debating. Though a firmer approach might've garnered more favourable results, Words disdained such petty arguments too much to bother. He needn't ask to know that Eunryu plotted his visits around Words' leisure. He forgave the intrusions, more or less, for the sake of convenience - not out of any silent attraction Eunryu imagined he returned.
When Words' patience finally broke, he was almost disappointed.
It was a slow evening. He had just emerged from the bath, with his damp hair draped over one shoulder, lean chest bare and 'eye' exposed. When he returned to his quarters, Eunryu - all sharp lines and devious smiles - was laying on his bed. Words stared.
"Well, well." Eunryu sat up on his elbows with a most aggrieving smirk. "I always wondered what you looked like under there, von Worth."
He replied with an instinctive attack.
The fight ended as quick as it began, of course, with the tip of Eunryu's spear against Words' pale throat. The threatening half-sting of steel doused his temper, and when Words brushed his fringe over his eye and moved to retrieve a fresh eyepatch, Eunryu stared after him with that damnably sharp smile.
Afterwards, Words made a point of reworking his schedule. Never mind relaxed spontaneity: He showered upon returning to Central and replaced his patch in the bathroom. He reserved his wines for after Eunryu'd left and read in the morning, at bedtime, or when maintaining the WH facade saw Eunryu too busy for rendezvous.
Until now, this plan served him well.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
"Not invitin' me for drinks?" Eunryu's breath comes hot against Words' ear as he hovers at his back, trapping him between the wine cabinet and his own taller frame. "I thought we were pals, Words. I'm hurt."
"Eunryu." He narrows his eyes and exhales through his nose, determined not to grant this unwanted visitor the delight of making him sweat. He squares his stance and doesn't look back. "You've come late."
"Chartin' my visits, now." Eunryu retreats, just one step, gloved hand gripping Words' shoulder. The heat of his skin seeps through leather and silk. "I guess I should feel special. Didn't think you liked anyone but that Kunein boy- well, him and your precious master."
Words turns free of his grasp, the motion mechanically precise as his glare.
"Step aside, Eunryu."
A wry half-bow as Words strides past.
"M'lord."
Bottle in hand, he proceeds towards the armchair in which he habitually drinks and brings down the cabinet's latch with his command over gravity. Eunryu quirks a brow at the sharp clack and joins Words across the room.
"All right, all right. Y'know I'm just screwin' with you." The usual smirk tugs at Eunryu's lips. "We're allies; North wouldn't want us pickin' fights with each other."
Never mind that Eunryu's the one fixed on confronting him. As if he were invisible, Words pours himself a drink and swirls the amber liquid in its goblet. He takes a delicate sip.
"Then don't aggravate me."
"Oho... someone's touchy tonight."
Words won't dignify him with a response.
"Anyway," Eunryu continues, "I've got new orders from North." He digs the blunt end of his spear into the carpeting and leans against the shaft. (The last time he used the blade, Words shot him a glare so withering that Eunryu immediately reversed it.) "Get your D-class lackey to secure an appointment with Diana. I have an assassination scheduled. He'll need to cover my tracks."
"An assassination..." Words eyes his own reflection in the drink, finds his expression impressively controlled. "Of whom?"
"South Central's S-class." He flashes that wolf-like grin which Words dislikes. "Shouldn't be hard. She's small fry compared to Master North. Hell, she's no different than any other witch I've fought."
"Of course." Eunryu's boasting bores him, and he turns his eyes aside. You're wasting my time. He notes the slant of Eunryu's hips, the droop of his eyelids as he extends a hand towards the table by Words' chair.
"Dutiful, like expected. I'm jealous of Carena."
He pauses, as if expecting Words to remind him that his lips are unfit for his dear master's name. Again, he refuses Eunryu the satisfaction.
"So," Eunryu carries on, undeterred; "how's about a drink, comrade?"
Words responds with a high-bred snort and stares at him sidelong with his natural eye.
"I'm sure you've someplace to be."
"Cold."