She's nothing like a girl you've ever seen before
Nothing you can compare to your neighborhood hoe
I'm tryna find the words to describe this girl without being disrespectful
The way that booty moving, I can't take no more.
Sexy Bitch, David Guetta Ft. Akon
Chapter Eight: Perspective
A smirk played along my lips as I stalked down the dreary hallway. Seeing Faythe so flustered really eased the tension before my cover was blown. Thank the Lord or whoever the hell was up there, 'cause if my cover had been blown…well I would have been royally fucked. I was almost 100% certain that I already confused her. Good.
While I had been sitting with Archer in the mess hall, he had mentioned to help Tucker with amplifying all the state pocket watches and testing them out to see if they were at the correct modification level. Despite my slowly forming distaste for Archer, I had naturally agreed. In a sense, I was slightly obligated to. If I had refused, he would wonder why I did, and then it would all link back to Faythe; she'd gotten enough shit from him already.
This whole secret room/hallway beneath the building was just…odd. Seriously, it was the perfect place to murder someone; no one would know. That's probably what kept a humanoid chimera that was using Philosopher's Stone fragments to put in the State issued watches, a secret. Regardless, the basement that was labeled as Tucker's workshop was filled with dozens of cages, all withholding his recent additions to his index of chimeras.
A few pocket watches were sprawled out in disarray along Tucker's desk. Modifying the watches were fairly simple; open 'em up and put some stones in it. If the stones were too strong in the testing process, they would hurt while in use and a fragment or two would be removed. I didn't converse with Tucker when I worked on modifications, I had no reason to. And maybe I'm just being rude, but quite frankly, the man downright disgusted me.
Sure, we had a few common grounds, but after listening to him explain what he did to his daughter and wife, I had no desire to associate with him. As if it hadn't been bad enough, watching him try to recreate his daughter made me, me of all people, want to puke. He once mentioned that his little Nina was once a very lively spirit; a very bubbly and sugar-coated kind of girl.
It was absolutely sickening.
Granted, I myself killed too many women and children to count, but I would never kill my own flesh and blood. Sure, I'll admit I'm a murderer, but I'm not completely heartless. Trudging footsteps pulled me from my angry reverie and helped me realize that I hadn't even fixed up one watch yet.
Archer appeared in the doorway holding another pocket watch in his hand and tossing it to that monstrosity named Shou Tucker. His clawed paw managed to grasp the airborne object, swallowing the metal with his furry palm.
"And Kimbley?"
"What?" My voice had come out unintentionally cold.
"I need you to get one more watch." I arched an eyebrow; there were others? Over eight watches were already amplified and I didn't even know that there were over five Alchemists on this campaign!
"Whose?"
"Holy's."
I was grumbling all the way back to my dorm room; I was turning into her. When I entered, I was half expecting her to ask what was wrong with me in the most sarcastic voice she could possibly muster. But then again, she wasn't me; she was everything I wasn't.
She was warm and welcoming.
I was cold and uninterested.
She was caring and mature.
I was reckless and childish.
She protected her family at all costs.
I welcomed death with open arms.
Thankfully, Faythe was asleep when I got to the room; otherwise I probably would have been bombarded with questions. Her uniform was probably in the dresser, but that doesn't necessarily mean her pocket watch was with it. I didn't have much time, I needed to get it before she woke up.
"Zolf…" My breath was caught in my throat; Damn, I jinxed it. My eyes darted to Faythe's still figure. Her eyelids were yet to betray me, but they never fluttered open like I assumed they would. What the hell then, she just randomly says my name right when I walk in? Or…
Or was she dreaming of me again?
It was a nice possibility, although I was probably correct. It seemed to be the only plausible explanation considering she would never call me by my first name if she were conscious.
Okay, no more distracting myself. I needed to find that damned watch! The first place I had thought to search was her purse, although I wished I hadn't. The thing was like a void! She could have a body hiding in there, and nobody would even know. Faythe had a load of crap in this thing, it made me curious as to why the hell she would bother bringing this thing with her everywhere she went.
Underneath all her makeup, important notes and phone numbers and…feminine care items, I found her pocket watch buried all the way at the bottom. Victoriously, I stuffed the cold medallion into my pocket before exiting the room silently.
"Kimbley!"At the shrill screech of my name, my eyes bounced around aimlessly, blindly trying to find the owner. A smirk molded onto my lips at the familiar face.
"Hello." Amusement lingered in my tone, burrowing away my slight surprise.
"You're going to pay for what you did to my friends!" The snake chimera seethed. Marta had one arm wrapped around me to prevent any sort of motion from me, while her other hand held a dagger to my neck.
"Kimbley, what are you doing here?" If that ten-foot tall suit of armor had a face of flesh and blood, it would probably be filled with shock.
"Well, I am a State Alchemist…" Marta pressed her dagger deeper into my skin, I could feel a thin line of blood trailing down my nerves. "C'mon Alphonse, you aren't going to let her kill me, are you?" Sugar-coating this child was just too easy. He managed to holy back the psychotic, vengeful chimera, allowing me enough time to transmute an unfortunate soldier passing by. I could feel every single component in my victim's body compressing into that beautiful, makeshift gun powder.
Marta freed herself from Al's grip and came back at me, her dagger still being clenched tightly in her fist. With a proud and defiant smirk, I nudged the stunned soldier towards the humanoid snake, the explosion blowing up a pillar of the building. Oh, the sweet sound of bombs.
The chimera's body appeared unharmed, although Alphonse's armor had numerous singes and dents. A grimace tinged my lips; why the hell did that child protect that…experiment? I jumped from the gaping hole that I so proudly created, and stalked towards my victims.
"Just when I thought I was going to finish my day off with a bang," My heavy boot pressed into the armor as I stepped on it, the hollow sound resonating through his insides. "You had to go and ruin it." Kicking him aside, I was about to head back to the basement, but this gutsy kid really wasn't going to drop it. He stood up with a challenging look on his helmet, his fists coming at me at a rapid speed.
I found myself dodging his attacks, only to trip over my own feet. With a smirk, despite my literal downfall, the tables had turned in my favor. Alphonse practically fed me alchemic components with his own attack. My plan was to ignite a trail back to him with his freshly erected path.
But plans always backfire.
When my fuse had been a healthy distance away from me, Al had transmuted a gravel casing. The moment the fuse reacted with the wall, the inside had practically been decimated; myself included. Parading footsteps drew me away from my internally aching pain and I could see Colonel Roy Mustang standing before me.
"The Elric brothers fall under my jurisdiction, Kimbley. If you have an issue with Al, I suggest you put it in writing." I glowered, burning holes into his fleeting back. I was the only one out here now; Al had taken his snake toy and hid away.
"Zolf J. Kimbley, explain yourself." Her seething voice…all my anger just washed away at the sound of her voice; regardless of how mad she sounded.
"What's to explain?" I tried to have myself sit up to face her, and failed miserably. With a slightly aggravated sigh, I could hear her soft footsteps approaching. In silence, I allowed her to help me to my feet, using her as a crutch.
"I mean it, what the hell's going on?"? Impatience dripped off her words, and I could tell she was blandly displeased. "Why was Al covered in dents and scratches?" The hostility in her voice was absolutely lethal.
"He got in my way." I bit back, making Faythe elbow me in my ribs. With a chuckle, I tried to wipe the blood from my stained lips. Faythe let out an exasperated groan before she began to walk, dragging me along.
"I swear Kimbley, I'm gonna slaughter you if he's hurt in-" An uncontrollable, howling laughter bubbled in my lungs before passing through my mouth. "What's so funny?" She sneered, shoving me to the linoleum flooring, laughter still donning me.
"I find it hysterical, although a little insulting, that your concerned over scrap metal when I'm the one who just got blood all over you." A small, breathless gasp escaped her as she finally noticed the liquid crimson that stained her skin and clothing. I finally noticed she was still in her nightgown, which came as a shock to me. Was Faythe that concerned over the younger brother or had she just ran out without changing because of the explosion.
"C'mon." She murmured tenderly, wrapping my left arm around her shoulders. Well, at least she fell for the guilt trip.
Going up the stairs was a real pain in the ass. Every time Faythe went a step ahead, my wound would twist in discomfort, but I forbade myself from saying anything. I was never more grateful for a bed than I was the moment she opened our dorm room door. Faythe made sure that I had been carefully sitting upright while she pulled a first aid from the bathroom, that I didn't even know we had. She didn't allow me to lift a finger, even when she stripped me of my jacket and brown undershirt, though I sure as hell didn't mind that. She made sure my bandages were as tight as possible as the blood soaked through them.
"I have to wash these." She murmured, bunching up my bloodied clothes. Even though it hurt to make such a sudden movement, I grabber her wrist before she could leave. I didn't speak, but limped my way towards our dresser and opened my drawer. I tossed her a spare brown undershirt and white boxers.
"Wash your nightgown." Unintentionally I snapped at her, tossing the garments lightly at Faythe. She curved a brow in questioning. "Wear what I gave you while your stuff is in the wash." Slowly, she nodded before briskly exiting the room.
I laid back down again, my head being supported with a pillow. Without using my hands, I kicked my boots off. I didn't care if I didn't return to the basement, I felt exhausted and it was almost three in the morning. When Faythe returned, my heart practically stopped.
If I thought her in a nightgown was seducing, then her in my clothes was absolute torture.
"Don't sleep with your dirty uniform." She scolded with her hand on her hip. I made no motion to obey; instead I just rolled onto my right side. Faythe just let out a groan before she crawled into bed. "Face up." She demanded, her hostility causing me to obey.
She was trying to kill me.
As if it wasn't bad enough that she was in my clothing, this was just the icing on the cake. Her fingers snapped at the button of my pants and began to tug them off. Much to my dismay, it sure as hell didn't help with the sexual tension. She tossed the dirty uniform off to the side and crawled underneath the covers. Soon after, I followed suit. My back faced her, her breathing being the only sound.
"…Kimbley?"
"Yeah?" I rolled around to face Faythe and found her forest green orbs burning into my own. They flickered in wonder and curiosity, but over what, I wasn't sure.
"Why were you out so late?" I couldn't answer. Archer made sure not to release our underground factory to the public. In response, I just gave my ever so cocky grin before wrapping an arm around her waist.
"Don't worry about it, Holy." I whispered, my smile still triumphant on my face. She only sighed swiftly before turning to face out the window. Her only form of a good night was the ticking of her watch from my pants' pocket lulling me to sleep.
I didn't want to wake up. Not only did I not have the will power, but my body failed to allow me movement. My legs were pleasantly tangled in warmth, along with the rest of my body.
"Get off of me." Faythe's mumbled voice wisped gently across my face, adding a small emphasis to my wake up call. Curtains pulled away from my eyelids, my olden orbs assessing my surroundings. Giving them a quick jerk, I realized my legs were wound around Faythe's possessively. My arm still weighed heavily around her waist and lower back. Last but not least, I noticed her face and just how close it was to mine. Our noses grazed each other, allowing me to breathe in her rich scent.
If only life were like this.
With a false whine, I hesitantly unraveled my body from hers. When she was free, she placed her frail hand tediously on my left cheek, making me scout the depths of her emerald hues.
"How are you feeling?" She inquired with genuine curiosity. With a small smirk gracing my lips, my hand enveloped hers, resting on my cheek.
"Better." 'I only wish life was this simple.' I mentally added. If it were this easy, it would be much better. No more constant fighting, no more of Archer's blasphemous bastardies, just peace. The feel of her fingers lingered as they danced along my skin.
'Well, I'm gonna go get ready, alright?" I gave a small nod, pulled her hand back with mine to press my lips to her cheek. An impish grin over took my face because of her rising blush. She rolled around, trying to hide her face.
I forced myself to sit up, trying to bite my way through the pain. Faythe came back out, her hair completely straight and her uniform neatly pressed. When she noticed my sitting position, worry stained her face and was immediately at my side.
"Let me change your bandages." She murmured, pulling nimbly at the knots she had made the previous night, unraveling the constricting strip of bandage. I looked down at my marred flesh. Various wounds scarred my skin, making Faythe wince. She stood from the bed before retreating to the bathroom. When she returned, a wet washcloth and fresh bandages adorned hr hands.
The cool water sent a jolt through my nerves as she began to gently scrub at the dried blood. She re-dressed my wounds, tying the knot a bit looser than the day before. Silently, Faythe pulled clothes from my drawer. Instead of throwing them at me like I had expected, she sat at my side and dressed me up.
"I have work to attend to." I announced, making a thin, curved frown paint her lips. "I'll be back before dusk." She gave a curt nod before standing up. On impulse, I grabbed her wrist, pulling her back down to my side. A squeal of surprise emitted from her throat, amusement feigning my senses. Her gaze of curiosity only fueled my intentions further. With expert skill, I pulled her into my lap, twisting her body around to face me.
Faythe was just too easy to read. If you really looked into her eyes, flecks of her emotion were splayed all over in disarray. And that's what I did. Our eyes were completely intertwined, stuck in a trance-like stage. I was able to see every single detail of her.
Despite the fact that her eyes were such an intense green, small specks of brown glittered the area and illuminated the forest hue that much more. Her eyelashes were deep and heavy with mascara, but it only seemed to compliment her irises. Eyeliner ran along the rim of her eyelids, occasionally fading or breaking back into the pigment of her skin.
None of that mattered. I made sure that my eyes stayed completely attached to hers, mirroring my actions. Slowly, I began to lower my back to the mattress, making sure to keep contact while gently tugging her body to mine. She laid atop of me, our eyes penetrating into each others. Ever since I had first met Faythe, her eyes always intrigued me. Up until this day, they hadn't ceased to amaze me.
"What are you doing?" She murmured, not exactly withdrawn from her trance-like state. My grin was slightly sickening, I could even see the reflection of it in her eyes. My hand glided along her skin, moving from her arms to her neck, and finished at her cheeks. The tattoos on my palms were anticipating Faythe's demise in sheer joy.
Too bad they were to be disappointed.
I brought Faythe's face close enough to mine that the static on our skin could be felt from the distance. The tips of our noses were barely touching and I could even feel her breath caress my skin. Her eyes laid shut, seeming to enjoy the sensation of our skin burning onto each others. I didn't want to ruin this moment, but my windpipe all but begged for me to hiss her name. I didn't want to lose this opportunity to prove myself to her, to prove there was more to me.
"Faythe…" Her name lolled just too sweetly off of my tongue. Her breathing became fast pace and slightly erratic. My thumbs ran along her cheek bones, before the tension was just too much. I pushed my lips full onto hers, molding the imprint of my shape. She didn't pull back like I was expecting. Instead, she added more insanity and fire to the kiss; she really was full of surprises. My tongue traced the outline of her lips; running along the line where the top met the bottom. I tenderly wedged my tongue in between, not that she protested against it. Her taste seemed to have an unknown substance contributing to it. With grace and eagerness, I searched every crevice, finding concentrated samples of that mysterious delicacy. Her breathing had gone beyond erratic, and border lined struggling. Her nostrils were flaring furiously, her nails were digging into the nape of my neck. With a muffled grunt of pain, I pulled away with disappointment.
"Can't breathe." She announced through trembling pants. Faythe's forehead rested against mine once again, her eyes were shut as she tried to regulate her breathing. A small smirk tinged my face. She didn't pull away because she wanted to, but because I literally made her breathless. Faythe's nimble fingers went to my cheeks, mimicking my earlier actions. Her thumbs had mulled over my skin until they casually rested on my dimples.
Wordlessly, I crushed her body to mine, her hair splaying along my shoulder. Her signature aroma had been wafted into the air, the strong scent overwhelming my senses. My mind was completely at ease; I no longer gave a fuck about who I was, who supposedly was in charge of me, or my current occupation. I had finally achieved my own personal Nirvana. Kidnapping her had never sufficed my deepest desire. All I had wanted was her to want, to truly, willingly want me; her submission fully proved that she did. A small smirk touched my lips as I pressed them into her neck, craning my own towards her. Despite my tight grip, I murmured in her ear,
"I have to go." Faythe shifted so that her body was still atop of me, but her head was still at my side. Our eyes never once disconnected, and I could see the slim hurt. I found my hand stroking her cheek to soothe her. "Hey now, I'll be back in an hour or two." Still, she didn't smile, she just gave me a blank stare. With a hushed, aggravated tone, I pulled her body to mine as close as we could possibly be.
"What are you keeping from me?" I quirked a brow, unsure of what her accusation had been implying.
"What do you mean?"
"You never tell me where you're going or what you're doing." I pursed my lips together for a brief moment. Archer's underground Alchemic factory was supposed to be kept secret, but when did I care about what Archer wanted? I already proved to myself that he meant nothing.
"It's a secret." I retaliated, a devious smirk breaking along my jaw. For a moment, her face fell. "I'll be back." I reminded her while untangling our limbs. Before Faythe could strike me with that begging pout or even whine, I placed a small kiss on her cheek and exited our room.
My mind had been racing to match my outrageously beating heart. I hadn't felt such a rush since the Ishbalan massacre, and even then, Faythe was by my side. (Although, at the time I thought of her as only a pretty face.) If I'm not with her, I think of her. If I think of her, I miss her. And when I miss her, my imagination tends to run beyond wild with possibilities of my future. Sometimes they involved Faythe, and other times my own death. Either way, both thoughts were extremities; extremities of happy and depressing.
Albeit my hands were meticulously placing crimson crystals inside of the pocket watches, they all looked the same to me; none stood out. That is, until I pried the last watch open. I was expecting to see the usually sleek metal, but instead found a brightly colored photograph.
"What the…" The people struck my mind as vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it. The composition of the photograph had been fairly simple; four people all in a tight bunch. The younger woman, probably the daughter, had been sitting on a middle-aged mans' shoulder and both seemed to be laughing. The older woman had been cradling a tiny baby. The only plausible way to determine the gender of said baby, was through all the more masculine colored he had been fitted into. Now I knew why it was so familiar.
This was Faythe's family. The baby was her squirt of a brother, Caden, and the bubbly young girl was Faythe herself. That probably meant these other two were the fabled Richard and Riley Chevalier. Those who have been instated in the military long enough knew them, including myself.
As such strong and knowledgeable alchemists, they were asked by the State to do underground research. They technically weren't legal state alchemists; they wouldn't even show up as enlisted military participants. They were underdogs, the State's illegal profit. But it wasn't all bad; they were paid individually as much as a standard state alchemist, which was probably why Faythe grew up so respectably.
Still, every person has their own limitations, whether they were personal or not. For these two, theirs was their own knowledge. The couple continued their research on the Philosopher's Stone. After some prodding, Riley had gained knowledge of Fuhrer King Bradley's no-so-hidden secret, and rushed to tell Richard.
If I had known that it would be their daughter that I would fall in love with, I would not have committed the crime. But if I hadn't, would I still have met her? Or would I have met some other woman and marry her instead?
Nah. It wouldn't be right.
Wait, did I just openly admit to myself I loved Faythe? I gave myself a mental scoff. So the truth comes now, when I really just hoped to mute my subconscious. Well, it really didn't matter how I felt, it was her feelings that were imperative. If I just happened to be lucky, and she did harbor the same feelings, she'd slaughter me if she knew the truth.
It's my fault she lived on her own.
It was my fault she became a mother in her adolescent years.
It's my fault she matured at such a young age.
If she knew, she wouldn't hesitate to mutilate me.
If only she knew that I killed her parents. I was just a young, freshly enrolled State Alchemist that was heavily enthralled by blood. I never questioned my orders. I always assumed that whoever was ordered to be wiped out was a threat to the State.
How wrong I was.
"If you would like to leave, you may." Tucker's hushed voice pulled me from my mental train of thought. "I can handle the rest."
"Yeah, sure." I grabbed Faythe's watch, which I still had yet to modify. Well, I wasn't going to anyway. If I did, I knew she would catch wind of the underground factory. I tried to erase the photo from my memory that I had witnessed. I sincerely hoped she wouldn't notice I stole it; everything just might come crumbling down.
"Where's my watch?" I blinked, immediately having Faythe's face centimeters from my own as I entered our dorm. With a small smirk, I closed the gap between our lips, a warm sensation welcoming me. Her own lips curved into a small smile that could be felt through the passion. Her small hands cupped my cheeks, attempting to pull me away. A faint grimace painted my skin at the gesture. Faythe's eyes were filled with an emotion that was vaguely familiar.
"Hey…" I whined childishly. Her hand managed to sneak past my defenses, and pulled her watch from my pants pocket. Instinctively, my hand enveloped her wrist; the pocket watch swung to and fro like a pendulum. The facial expression on her skin had only flashed for a brief moment before she pulled her wrist from my grasp. Faythe's eyes were heavily focused on the intricate cover of the medallion, as if peering beneath it. Silently, my hand cradled the watch before enveloping hers.
"We need to talk." I murmured impulsively. Crap, why did I do that? I was hoping to bring up her parents later; when I was completely sure she didn't reciprocate my feelings. But, what if she did? Nah, that's just wishful thinking.
I had Faythe sit beside me at the edge of the bed. Internally, I groaned. I didn't want her to run, nor did I wish to grant her such an opportunity. My hands grabbed her by the waist and tugged her body beside mine as we lay strewn about the bed.
"What is it?" She murmured intensely, her emerald eyes flickering with concern. A shallow sigh was heaved from my breath as I pulled her forehead to rest against mine.
"Do you remember when we first met? You said you wanted to know as much about me, as I did you?" She nodded hesitantly.
"Are you finally going to tell me?" Her tone was teasing, just as her body language had been.
"That I am." It was difficult to tell her of the life that I had practically forgotten. My parents had both passed away and I was an only child. Money was an impossible necessity, and only my talents were able to accumulate it. Then, I went in on how my first years in the military had been. I was enlisted in the State at age eighteen, fulfilling in much smaller duties than I participate in today. I was twenty-two when I had been sent to Ishbal, and when I had first met Faythe face to face.
"You were younger than me when you joined!" Faythe remarked in slight awe. I merely nodded.
"You were more fortunate than myself," I retorted. "You actually did more meaningful things than I did."
"What did you do?" I grit my teeth, I wanted to avoid mentioning all of my murders, name the one of Richard and Riley Chevalier, right in Laboratory Five.
"Things I'm not proud of," I admitted. "Countless unjustified murders of people in and outside of the military." Faythe quirked an eyebrow, her eyes filled with hints of fear. I managed to feign a faint smile while cupping her cheek in reassurance. "Like who?" I exhaled.
"People you wouldn't be familiar with."
"C'mon, please?" Faythe's eyes were begging for an answer, accented with a small pout. I just couldn't say no to that face, it was impossible.
"If I told you, you'd kill me." She shook her head, her fingers clasping my hand that was currently residing on her cheekbone.
"I won't," Said Faythe. What a shattered promise. "I could never hate you, Kimbley." If only she knew. But, may as well test her word.
"My last case was Riley and Richard Chevalier." Silence hung heavily in the atmosphere. A dead, blank stared clouded her beautiful forest hues. I knew it was the end as I gazed into her dead pupils.
"Riley and R-Richard? Y-you-"
"Yeah, I knew them." My palm slid from resting on her cheek to holding her at the base of her collarbone. Her shallow breathing was very faint, but could still be felt. "They were astounding scientists. Their admiration for knowledge really intrigued younger students, until they practically bred an entire generation of alchemists."
Tears trickled down her face, yet her eyes hadn't feigned a crimson color. "I was one of them," I could only nod in reply. "But h-how could y-you?"
"As a young military participant, I never questioned the State's motives." Faythe wept silently, and all I could attempt to do was to play with loose strands of her hair. Even then, she shrugged me off. "If only I knew." I whimpered delicately, before forcing myself away from her.
The desert sand that was constantly blowing in my face didn't bother me. At this point, I don't think anything bothered me as much as this. I didn't care that it was probably over ninety-degrees and I was still wearing my coat, I didn't care that my hair was let down, and I didn't care that I had orders to attend to.
Nothing mattered right now. My mind wandered and curiosity struck me from time to time. Should I have told her? I wasn't sure; there were too many possibilities of the outcome. Faythe probably would have never known if I hadn't told her. But if I didn't I would have been able to live with myself; guilt would constantly poison my blood. She deserved better than that.
Arms locked meticulously around my neck. My hands smoothed over the skin until my hand covered hers. Faythe was at my side, her arms being folded slightly above her stomach. Silence stained the atmosphere.
"They're proud of you." I murmured.
"How would you know?" A chuckle escaped my vocal chords, before my shoulder leant against hers.
"They talked about you constantly when they weren't so enthralled by their work." Faythe lost her ability to breathe at that point. My molten orbs cast a brisk gaze towards her. Her fringes hung above her eyes, shield the vibrant hues.
"H-how could you?" She had repeated for the second time today.
"They were orders."
"They were my parents!"
"As State Alchemists, we must accept all responsibilities and duties." I sneered, almost too harshly.
"So I see." Tears slipped down her eyes, I could see them clearly from where we sat within the small distance between us. Faythe pushed on her knees, forcing herself to stand up. Her eyes still laid beneath her ruby mane, and I was blinded to see any facial expression. It was beyond evident that she was upset and shocked, but what if there was something more, something I was missing?
I would never know. "Where are you going?" My voice was thick with solemnity. She hadn't replied, but began to walk away. A small, but strong voice in my head begged for me to chase her, yet I knew it was best for me to let her go. I groaned, my unkempt fingernails raking through my scalp.
"Fuck, I need a drink." I hissed. I was much too lazy to even both getting up. Instead, I pulled an unopened pack of cigarettes from my front pocket. It'd been such a long time since I had last smoked, I almost forgot the burning taste of charcoal on my lips. I didn't obsess over it like Havoc; I only did when I was really stressed. Eventually, I stopped doing it altogether. I pulled the cigarette butt to my lips, creating a small spark with the alchemic energy that was in flux. I coughed, inhaling the toxins with each breath, and released a trouble away with every exhale.
Author Note: Sorry for such a long wait. I've had this chapter written up in my notebook for awhile, I just hadn't typed it. Then I got a virus and...yeah. Now, before all of you come slaughter me for making Kimbley so OOC, THIS CHAPTER IS ALL OF WHAT HE THINKS. None of you know what he thinks, and neither do I. So I created what he thinks, so fuck off. I don't want to hear any of ya'll complaining that he doesn't think or do things like that. Don't like it? Get the fuck off this page then. No one is forcing you to read this, okay? Anyway, next chapter...I'm planning a lemon xP
x3Elfriedex3: I'm glad to hear he isn't OOC. If you read the author note, that's a big fear of mine. Well, he might have gone OOC with this chapter, lol. And the plot for this follows the anime, except towards the end, which is coming near. I've began planning a sequel, but I'm not sure if that's happening yet.
xxdarknessxfallsxx: The Envy twist was just for fun, lmao. But I hope you enjoyed the slight plot twist in this chapter. The only thing the plot will follow after this is Kimbley going to Lior and dying. But then again, I'm altering his death slightly to keep my ending open to a sequel.
Disclaimer: I do not own any publicly recognizable characters, objects, or songs. I do, however, own part of this plot, Faythe and Caden Chevalier, Lacey and Haley (Although those two have only been briefly mentioned). Steal them, and I'll have Gluttony eat you.