Cryptic, much?
"I get it," Hiro said smugly from across the room, freezing Rei mid-chop.
The White Tiger's knife quivered over the partially sliced cucumber sitting on the cutting board, anticipating Hiro's imminent criticism. Rei wordlessly chastised his hand into stillness, slowly, deliberately half-turning his face to watch the older of the Kinomiya brothers from the corner of a wary golden eye.
Hiro's face was blank, but his gaze danced with something malicious and familiar. His arms were crossed. He leaned in the doorframe. This was full Coach-Hiro mode. Rei didn't like it.
I don't like you, he thought, holding the knife tightly.
Sometimes, Rei secretly observed, Hiro got off on hurting people. He seemed to have a real yen for inflicting psychological trauma. He pressed people too hard… on purpose. He liked making them squirm. He liked knowing that he'd caused squirming.
Hiro liked power that way.
The older of the Kinomiya brothers smirked coldly, then turned and left Rei alone in the kitchen. No elaboration what. so. ever. Left Rei alone, standing there, half-turned and shocked and panicked, staring after, golden eyes afire with confusion and thoughts like, WAIT! What IS it?! What DO YOU GET, HIRO?!
Hiro liked that.
A/N: I have a real obsession with people in doorframes... Anyway, this drabble goes with the next one, so...