Author here! and oh my god am'I one rusty cheese bagel...Here's another chapter, and this time, I put alot of detail effort into it and my mind is just...gone since it took most of the day...editing re typing, editing...re typing and just bloody hell my fingers hurt! I'm done for the day. Period.
The next day dawned bright and early, the sun peeking through the blinds of her apartment. The events of the previous night felt like a dream, the kind that left you feeling both satisfied and hungry for more. But as she stepped out into the bustling streets of Shizume City, determine to buy groceries, groceries she was clearly lacking back in her apartment, she knew it was anything but. Rose had barely begun to process her newfound connection to Mikoto and the HOMRA clan in her mind when she found herself bumping her face into the chest of none other than Reisi Munakata, the man whose power was said to rival that of the Red King himself. She recognized him immediately from the information she'd heard through the Old Man, his military bearing and sophisticated attire a stark contrast difference to the rough-and-tumble gangsters she'd encountered so far.
Munakata's eyes swept over her, taking in every detail from her long curly purple hair to the mischievous glint in her eyes. He was dressed in his signature high collared dark blue trench coat, unzipped to reveal a crisp white shirt and cravat, his purple eyes framed by the ever-so-slightly messy blue-black hair and frameless glasses. Despite his elegant demeanor, there was something undeniably intimidating about him, a presence that made even the most seasoned street rats scurry away.
"Rose, isn't it?" he said, his voice smooth and measured. There was a hint of curiosity in his tone, but his eyes remained guarded.
Rose nodded, her heart racing, and not in a very good way. "You know who I am?"
Munakata's gaze remained steady. "I know of your recent...association," he said, his voice as cool as the morning air. "But I'd like to know who you are beyond that."
She felt the weight of his scrutiny, but she didn't flinch. "I'm just a girl looking for a good time," she said, her voice light, though she knew it was a flimsy excuse.
His gaze remained unyielding. "And what do you seek in the company of the Red King?" he asked, his tone neutral.
Rose shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Adventure, maybe," she said, her eyes never leaving his. "But I'm not his keeper, if that's what you're worried about."
Munakata's expression remained unchanged, his purple eyes piercing through her facade. "I'm not worried," he said calmly. "But I am curious."
She felt the weight of his gaze than his scrutiny, his curiosity a palpable force that made her want to squirm. But she held her ground, her own eyes never wavering. Screw this mother fucker, she wasn't having any of it. Her only thought could muster up 'Piggy of Justice'. And that was it.
"Is that all you wanted?" she asked, her voice casual despite the racing of her heart and her current sour opinion of him.
Munakata's eyes searched hers for a moment longer before he nodded and started to take his leave passing her. "For now," he said, his voice as smooth as velvet.
"But I suspect we'll be seeing more of each other."
Rose watched him walk away, his tall, muscular frame cutting through the crowd with ease. His very presence was like a commander in battle, commanding attention without a word. As she took in his retreating figure, giving him the stare into his back and flip of her middle finger at him, she couldn't shake the feeling that there would be more encounters with that man. Rose sighed and pray the fucking hopes she never sees his ass again, but again, she would be wrong...
The rest of the day passed in a blur of excitement and nerves. She couldn't help but replay her encounter with Munakata in her mind, his composed demeanor and piercing purple eyes leaving a lasting impression. There was something about him that made her want to hide all her secrets, she knew better than to trust too easily in this city of shadows and power plays. But during the tense interaction, Reisi Munakata questions Rose's intentions with the Red King personally himself. Despite her casual demeanor, the encounter leaves her feeling exposed and uncertain, hinting at a complex web of relationships and potential conflicts within the Shizume City's power dynamics that she didn't want to dive into, at least not yet.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the concrete jungle, she found herself back in the familiar paths of the alleyways leading to the main urban streets of the shopping district. It was there she stumbled upon Yata Misaki, the brash and hot-headed HOMRA member who had been so skeptical of her the night before and soon warmed up to her. To her surprise, he didn't snarl or glower as she approached like the first time she met him. Instead, he offered her a tentative smile, his hazel eyes meeting hers with something akin to shyness.
"Hey," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "What brings you around here?"
Rose tilted her head, a smirk playing on her lips. "Just getting some supplies," she replied, "You?"
Yata shrugged, his usual bravado momentarily slipping away. "Same," he said, his eyes darting to the ground before meeting hers again. "Wanna come with?"
Rose raised an eyebrow, the offer taking her by surprise. "Sure," she said, her voice casual despite the sudden flutter in her chest. "But don't get any ideas," she added with a wink, her grin playful.
Yata's cheeks turned a shade darker, but he managed a gruff laugh. "Like I would," he said, though his eyes remained on hers longer than was strictly necessary.
They walked together through the bustling streets, the sounds of the bustling city around them. Despite his rough and tough bad boy skater exterior, Yata was surprisingly gentle in his movements, his eyes constantly scanning the crowd as if searching for threats. It was a stark contrast to the fiery brutality she had heard of that he is capable of, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for the hot-headed young man beneath the bravado.
As they approached the grocery store, Yata took the lead, his eyes flicking to her as he opened the door. The cool air-conditioning hit her like a welcome embrace, the scent of fresh produce and packaged goods a stark contrast to the stale alleyways. He grabbed a basket, his eyes never leaving hers. "You know, you're not what I expected," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.
Rose raised an eyebrow. "And what did you expect?" she asked, her tone teasing as she grabbed her own basket in hand and started piling whatever food that looked yummy to her.
Yata scoffed, his cheeks still flushed. "Not...this," he admitted, gesturing to the basket of groceries they were accumulating. "But you're alright, I guess."
Rose chuckled, enjoying the rare glimpse of vulnerability from the shorty. They moved through the aisles, their conversation a strange mix of banter and cautious probing into each other's lives. It was clear that Yata had never quite encountered someone like her, a girl who could stand her ground and give as good as she got.
As they approached the checkout, Yata's eyes widened as he spotted someone in the line ahead of them. "Oh, fuck," he muttered, his grip on the basket tightening.
Rose followed his gaze to see Rikio Kamamoto, another HOMRA member, casually leaning against the counter, his blonde hair sticking out from under his hoodie. He was in his usual summer attire, his hood up despite the warmth of the indoors, his sunglasses still on. "What's up with him?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
Yata's grip on the basket tightened even more. "Kamamoto," he said through gritted teeth. "He's got a mouth on him."
Rose's eyes lit up with mischief. "Oh, I like mouthy people," she said, her voice a sweet purr. "They're fun to play with."
Yata shot her a look that was half-scolding, half-amused embarrassed expression. "...You're kidding me, right?" he said, his eyes darting back to Rikio.
"Shit, really was hoping not to run into Fat-Ass today..."
Rose chuckled, taking in Yata's slightly embarrassed expression. It was clear that despite his tough exterior, he had a soft spot for her, one that she intended to exploit for all its worth. As they approached the checkout, Rikio looked up, his brown eyes glinting with amusement as he took in the sight of Yata's flustered state.
"Well, this is a sight to see," Rikio drawled, his lips curling into a smirk. "You're with Mister Mikoto's girl eh?"
Yata's grip on the basket tightened even more, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. "Shut it, Kamamoto," he growled, his eyes flashing.
Rose couldn't help but laugh, the tension in the air dissipating with the sound. "It's okay," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I can handle a little teasing."
Yata shot her a look that was half-thankful, half-exasperated. "You're something else," he muttered, pushing his way through the line to make his purchases of snacks and leave quickly before Kamamoto could teased him any further. While Kamamoto laughed him at his quickly retreating figure. " I came to do some shopping myself before heading to HQ, since Yata and I are stuck on patrol tonight!"
Rose watched the exchange with amusement, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she stepped up to the counter. The cashier, a young girl with pink hair and a nose piercing, gave her a knowing smile. "Trust me, it's all in good fun," she said, her voice lilting. "They're like brothers, really."
Rose couldn't help but chuckle as she handed over her money for the groceries. "I can tell," she said, her eyes never leaving Rikio's smug face.
"But I'll let them have their moment."
With a playful wink and slight wave goodbye at Rikio, she turned and stepped out of the store, the warm evening air wrapping around her like a blanket. She scanned the street, spotting Yata's retreating figure a few feet away. He was already several steps ahead, his shoulders tense and his strides long and purposeful. The encounter with Rikio in the grocery store lightens the mood, revealing the playful rivalry between the HOMRA members. The cashier comments on their sibling-like dynamic, confirming that the teasing is harmless. Rose finds the situation amusing and plays along, buying her groceries and leaving the store with a newfound sense of understanding of the clansmen.
"Yata!" she called out, her voice echoing off the concrete as she hurried after him, the plastic grocery bags swinging in her hand. He stopped, his body stiff, and slowly turned to face her, his hazel eyes wary. "You okay?" she asked, a smirk playing on her lips as she took in his flustered expression.
Yata huffed, his cheeks still a shade of red that matched the evening skies above them. "I'm fine," he grumbled, his voice gruff. "Just don't do that again."
Her laughter bubbled up, the sound like music to his ears. "Do what?" she asked, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Make you blush?"
Yata rolled his eyes, his embarrassment evident despite his tough exterior. "Yeah," he said, his voice gruff. "Something like that."
Rose's laughter followed him as he stomped off, his hoodie pulled low over his eyes. She couldn't help but feel a strange fondness for the blushing clansmen.
"Don't worry, Yata," she called after him, her voice light and teasing. "Your secret's safe with me."
Yata stopped in his tracks, his cheeks flaming even brighter than before. He whipped around to face her, his eyes narrowed. "What secret?" he snapped.
Rose just grinned, enjoying the game. "Oh, the secret of why you turn as red as a tomato every time I flirt with you," she said, her voice light as a feather.
"It's adorable, really."
Yata glared at her, his cheeks aflame. "I don't blush," he said through gritted teeth, his fists clenching.
Rose just shrugged, her smile not fading. "If you say so," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
"But if that's the case, you've got some seriously good blush-concealing skills."
Yata glared at her, his fists tightening around the handles of the grocery bags.
"I'm not blushing," he insisted, though his voice held a hint of uncertainty.
Rose just winked at him. "Sure, sure," she said, her tone playful. "But if you say so."
They continued down the street, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the concrete. The buildings around them were a mix of old and new, the neon lights of the city casting a vibrant glow on their faces. Yata remained silent, his thoughts racing. He had never met someone quite like her before, someone who could tease him so effortlessly and yet not make him feel belittled. It was...oddly refreshing.
"So, Yata," she said, her voice light and teasing, "you're not going to tell me what your flame does?"
He shot her a sideways glance, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement.
"You think I'm going to just spill my guts to you?" he asked, his tone playful despite his words.
Rose's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Well, I'm not asking for your deepest, darkest secrets," she said, her voice a purr.
"But a little demonstration wouldn't hurt."
Yata scoffed, though the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "I'm not a circus act," he said, trying not to look too pissed off.
The flirtatious banter between Rose and Yata continues as they walk through the neon-lit streets. Despite his initial resistance, Yata finds her teasing refreshing and they bond over their shared sense of humor. Rose playfully presses him to reveal his powers, hinting at her curiosity about the clan's abilities.
She just grinned, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Come on," she said, her voice playful.
"I bet you've got some cool tricks up your sleeve."
Yata rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the hint of pride that flitted across his face. He was starting to cave in.
"You really want to see?" he asked, a glint in his eye.
Rose nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"I do," she said, her voice earnest. "I've heard the stories, but I want to see it for myself."
Yata sighed, his eyes searching hers for any sign of mockery. Finding none, he set down his grocery bags and stepped away from the street and into the alley-way. The air around him grew thick with tension, and for a moment, it seemed as if the very shadows grew restless. Then, with a flick of his wrist, a small flame danced to life at his fingertips, casting a warm glow on his face.
Rose's eyes widened, her smile growing. "So it's true," she murmured, her voice filled with awe. "You can control fire."
Yata nodded, his cheeks still flushed. "Not just any fire," he said, his voice a mix of pride and defensiveness. "It's the Red Aura. It's not like I can just conjure up a bonfire on a whim."
Rose's smile grew, her eyes alight with curiosity. "But you can make it look like one," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "I've heard stories about how you ride your skateboard with flames trailing behind you like a comet."
His cheeks grew even redder, his embarrassment clear. "It's not like that," he mumbled, his eyes darting to the ground.
She stepped closer, her voice softer now. "But it's amazing," she said, her eyes never leaving the flickering flame. "You're amazing."
Yata's grip on his power loosened slightly, the flame growing larger, casting a warm light over them both. "It's just what I can do," he said, his voice gruff, though the hint of pride was unmistakable. Rose stepped closer, her eyes never leaving the flame. "But it's more than that," she said softly.
"It's part of who you are."
Yata looked up at her, his eyes searching hers. For a moment, the playfulness between them vanished, replaced by something more profound. "Yeah," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It is." The flame grew smaller, a tiny ember flickering in the palm of his hand. "But it's not all fun and games," he added, his expression turning serious. "It's...it's a responsibility."
Rose nodded, her eyes still on the ember. "I can see that," she said, her voice understanding. "But it's also a part of you."
Yata looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Is that why you're here?" he asked, his voice cautious. "To find out about us?"
She shook her head, her eyes still on the ember. "No," she said firmly. "I'm here because I want to be. And because...because you guys are interesting."
He snorted, his embarrassment fading. "Interesting, huh?"
Rose nodded, her eyes never leaving the ember. "Yeah," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "The way you guys can manipulate the element of Fire...it's like nothing I've ever seen."
Yata shrugged, his cheeks flaring back to red. "It's not all that special," he mumbled, though the pride in his voice was clear.
Rose tilted her head, her eyes never leaving the ember. "But it is," she insisted. "Your power, it's...it's like watching a dance," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "The way you control it, it's mesmerizing."
Yata's sudden chuckle was short-lived as he felt his heart skip a beat. He hadn't expected her to see the beauty in what he could do. Most people just saw the destruction, the power that could be wielded so easily. But Rose, she saw something more.
They stood in companionable silence for a few minutes, the flame in Yata's hand slowly dying out. He picked up his grocery bags, feeling a strange comfort in her presence. He had to admit, she was growing on him. Like a little sister, he thought, though the idea was strange and foreign to him. He had no siblings, and the last time he had felt anything close to familial warmth was...well, it was a memory best left buried. But Rose certainly did look older than him, but the way she talked... He felt like he almost had a little sister.
"Look, I know you're curious," He said finally, breaking the silence.
"But you gotta understand, we're not like those fairy tales you've heard. We're a clan, a family. And Mister Mikoto...he's our king. We'd do anything for him."
Rose nodded, her smile gentle. "I know," she said. "That's why I'm here. I don't want to hurt any of you. I just want to understand."
The words hung in the air between them, a silent promise that she had no intention of breaking. Yata searched her eyes, looking for any hint of deceit, but all he found was honesty and curiosity. He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Okay," he said, his voice gruff.
"But you gotta be careful. There's a lot of shit going down in this city, and we can't have any more trouble than we already do."
She nodded solemnly, her smile fading slightly. "I understand," she said. "But I'm not just some damsel in distress. I can handle myself."
His eyes searched hers, the unspoken question hanging in the air, he decided to ask. "What are you hiding?" his voice lowered, but not accusatory.
She met his gaze, her smile never wavering. "Only what I need to," she said enigmatically. "But I promise you, I wouldn't do anything to hurt Mikoto or any of the HOMRA members."
With a nod, Yata seemed to accept her words, though the wariness remained in his eyes. "Alright," he said, his voice gruff.
"But if you're gonna stick around, you gotta earn our trust."
Rose's smile grew, the challenge in his tone only making her more determined. "I plan to," she said, her voice firm.
They arrived at a crossroad, the neon lights of the city casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the damp pavement. The air was thick with the scent of rain, hinting at a storm brewing in the distance. Yata paused, his eyes scanning the area before turning back to her. "I'll walk you home," he said.
Rose raised an eyebrow. "I can handle myself," she said, her voice light. "But thanks for the offer."
He grunted, his eyes still wary. "Suit yourself," he said, his grip tightening on the grocery bags. "But be careful."
She nodded, her smile reassuring. "I will," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'll see you around, Yata."
With that, she turned and disappeared down one of the alleyways, her footsteps echoing off the wet pavement. Yata watched her go, his eyes narrowed slightly. He didn't like the feeling of unease that settled in his gut, but he knew he couldn't force her to stay. With a sigh, he turned and headed towards the HOMRA's bar, his thoughts racing.
As Rose weaved through the streets, the neon lights casting a rainbow of shadows on the wet pavement, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. It was a feeling she had grown accustomed to over the years, a sixth sense that had kept her one step ahead of trouble more times than she could count. But this time, it was different. This time, it was as if the very air was charged with tension. She decided to shake off the feeling and picked up her pace to quickly get home as soon as possible.
Meanwhile, back at the Scepter 4 headquarters, Reisi Munakata stood, tensed, his eyes glued to the monitors that flickered with the images of the city's streets. He had been keeping tabs on the newcomer, the girl with the long curly purple hair and the piercing purple eyes. Her interactions with the HOMRA clan had been... interesting, to say the least. He had seen the way she had charmed some of them already, the way she had earned Yata's respect and, perhaps more importantly, the way she had captured the attention of the Red King, Mikoto Suoh.
He leaned over Saruhiko Fushimi's shoulder, the hacker's nimble fingers dancing over the keyboard as he accessed the city's camera feeds. The monitors were a chaotic array of visuals, each one showing a different part of the city, a different story unfolding in the neon-lit streets. But it was the images of Rose and Yata that held his attention, by the order of his captain.
He glanced up, his eyes meeting the Captain in the reflection of the screens. "What's the deal with her?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.
Reisi's expression remained stoic. "We're not sure," he said, his eyes never leaving the flickering images. "But she's definitely not what she seems."
Saruhiko's fingers paused, his gaze flicking to the Scepter 4 captain. "You think she's up to something?"
Reisi's eyes narrowed as he studied the silent scene playing out on the monitors. "It's possible," he said, his voice tight. "But we can't jump to conclusions."
He nodded, his fingers resuming their dance on the keyboard. "But she's gotta be hiding something," he said, his eyes glued to the screen. "I mean, why else would she be so...so..."
"Charming?" Reisi suggested, his voice sounded very amused.
He rolled his eyes without looking up from his screens. "You're not funny, Captain," he said, his tone dry as the Sahara.
"I'm serious. What's with the purple-haired girl? She's got the HOMRA eating out of her hand like she's the last slice of pizza at a slumber party."
Reisi's amusement faded, his gaze sharpening. "Exactly," he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone.
"That's what concerns me. She's too...easy with them. It's as if she knows something we don't."
Saruhiko nodded, his eyes never leaving the monitors. "So, what do we do?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of predatory excitement. "Keep tabs on her?"
Reisi's gaze flicked to the hacker before returning to the screens. "Indeed," he said, his voice cool and measured. "We need to know what she's after. And we need to keep a close eye on her interactions with the Red King."
He nodded again, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I've got just the thing," he said, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "We can track her phone, monitor her communications, maybe even hack into her personal devices if she's careless enough to leave them unguarded."
Reisi's gaze never left the screens as he considered the proposal. "Proceed with caution," he said, his voice a low rumble. "We don't want to tip our hand too early."
Saruhiko hummed in deep thought, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Got it," he said, his voice brimming with confidence. "I'll set up a discreet surveillance network. We'll monitor her movements, her communications, and her interactions with the HOMRA members. But," he mused with a mischievous grin, "I'll need some intel on her to narrow down the search." hinting he would have to do some pretty illegal activities...
He considered Saruhiko's proposal. "Do what you must," he said finally. "But be careful. We don't want to alert her to our suspicions."
"You got it, Captain," Saruhiko said, his fingers already flying over the keyboard. "I'll be as sneaky as a ninja."
With that, Reisi turned and left the room, his thoughts still on the mysterious girl with the purple hair. There was something about her that didn't sit right with him, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He made a mental note to speak with the Red King, to gauge his thoughts on the matter. But for now, he had other business to attend to.
Meanwhile, the rain had started to fall in earnest, the droplets pattering against the sidewalks as Rose hurried towards her apartment. She was drenched by the time she arrived, her hair plastered to her face and her clothes clinging to her body. As she approached her building, she couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. But that relief was short-lived as she saw a familiar figure leaning against her door.
Mikoto Suoh, was standing there with a hungry gaze, his eyes glinting with mischief as they took in her soaked form. His smirk was a silent challenge, one that made her heart race and her cheeks flush. "How did you find me?" she demanded, her voice a mix of surprise and annoyance.
Mikoto shrugged, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's not that hard to find someone when you know what you're looking for," he said, his voice smooth as silk.
"Besides, I had a little help from a friend."
Rose's eyes narrowed slightly, her curiosity piqued. "A friend?" she repeated. "Who?"
His smirk grew. "Let's just say I have my ways," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement.
Rose rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. "Fine," she said, her voice laced with exasperation.
"But you better not be planning on invading my privacy."
He chuckled, his smirk growing wider. "Would I do that?" he asked, his tone teasing.
Rose raised an eyebrow, her hand on her hip. "With the way you're looking at me right now, it's a valid concern," she shot back, her voice playful despite the underlying wariness. Completely unaware that Mikoto...Was drunk.
Mikoto's smirk didn't falter. "Don't worry," he said, his voice low and teasing. "I won't bite... unless you want me to." He stepped aside, allowing her to unlock the door to her apartment. It swung open to reveal a cozy space, the walls adorned with a mixture of posters of weird ghouls and artwork that spoke of her vibrant personality. The living room opened up to a small kitchen, separated by a counter with barstools. It was clear that she had made this place her own, with every corner reflecting a piece of her soul.
She couldn't open that door fast enough and motion him inside her apartment, not wanting any of possible noisy neighbors too see, and to also get the hell outta the wet clothes clinging to her body. Quickly as Mikoto walked inside, she shut her door and turned. Mikoto watched as she moved with the grace of a cat across the living room, the water dripping from her clothes leaving a trail behind her, the sound of the lock clicking into place echoing through the small space.
"Make yourself comfortable," she called over her shoulder, already disappearing into the kitchen, which was a miracle of modern efficiency. It was small, but it had everything she needed. The counters were lined with an array of spices and condiments, each bottle and jar arranged with military precision. There was a small refrigerator humming quietly in the corner, a microwave and a toaster oven sitting side by side like old friends. The walls were adorned with a collection of kitchen gadgets that looked like they'd been picked out by a particularly obsessive chef.
He took a moment to appreciate the quirky decor before following her in. He watched as she deftly stowed away her groceries, her movements efficient and precise. It was clear that she took pride in her home, despite its small spacious size. She grabbed a towel from a hook and tossed it to him. "You might want to dry off," she said, her voice teasing. "You're leaving a trail."
He caught the towel with a smirk, wiping his face and hair before approaching her. The scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke clung to him like a second skin, a faint scent that made her nose twitch. She was just putting away the last box of cereal crunch, before she froze, feeling the heat radiating from his body, even through the wet fabric of his clothes.
Mikoto's amber eyes bore into the back of her head, a silent challenge that she felt, sent a thrill down her spine. She could feel the curiosity and heat in his gaze, the feeling of his eyes roamed over her, taking in every detail of her back facing him. It was as if he was trying to solve a puzzle, to understand the enigma that was her. And she knew that she was doing the same to him.
Rose took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his body suddenly closer, against her back, the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke wrapping around her like a seductive embrace. It was a strange mix, one that she found oddly appealing. She turned to face him, her heart hammering in her chest. He was so close, looking up at him wasn't that hard for her, despite her 5'9'' height, she could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek with his face so close to her own.
His eyes searched hers, a question in their depths that she hadn't quite anticipated. For a moment, she felt like a deer caught in the headlights, unsure of what to say or do. But she had faced danger before, and she knew that sometimes, the best way to handle a situation was to meet it head-on.
So, she took a step closer, wanting to say something, her heart racing as she felt the heat of his body against hers. The rain had soaked through her clothes, leaving her skin cool and clammy, but his touch was like a brand, searing away the chill. His hands reached up, brushing the wet hair from her face, his thumbs tracing the line of her jaw, sending a shiver down her spine. Mikoto's eyes deep gaze, the hunger in them unmistakable. He leaned in, his breath hot against her lips, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away just as he crashed his lips to her own. The sound of the rain outside, the distant laughter of passersby running quickly to get out of the rain from outside, it all melted into a background murmur. All that existed was the two of them, the tension flaring in the air like the desert sun.
Her heart hammered in her chest, her eyes wide with shock and excitement as she felt his lips crush against hers. It was the heat between them, that came off of him, that spoke of need, of desire that had been simmering just beneath the surface for what felt like an eternity to her. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer, and she found herself responding with a passion she didn't know she had.
The kiss was rough, demanding, and it left her breathless. She could taste the whiskey on his tongue, feel the warmth of his breath as he deepened the kiss, his teeth nibbling at her bottom lip. It was like being caught in a storm, wild and unpredictable, and she reveled in it.
But as quickly as it had started, it ended. Mikoto pulled back, his eyes searching hers, the smirk on his face replaced by something softer, something that sent her heart racing even faster. "I've wanted to do that since I first saw you," he murmured, his voice rasped and heavy with desire.
Rose's breath was ragged, her eyes wide with surprise and arousal. She hadn't been expecting that, not here, not now. But she couldn't deny the way her body responded to him, the way her heart thrummed in her chest. She stepped back, her hand coming up to her lips, which felt swollen and bruised from the kiss. "Mikoto..." she breathed.
He smirked, his eyes started darken with lust. "I know," he said, his voice low and deep. "But we'll have to continue this another time." He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before turning and walking away, leaving her standing in the kitchen, the taste of him still on her lips.
Rose stared after him, her mind reeling. What had just happened? Why had he kissed her like that? And WHAT THE FUCK!? The questions swirled through her head as she listened to the sound of his footsteps fade and a door opening, and the echo of it shutting was ignored by the pounding heart in her chest.
The kitchen was suddenly cold without him, the air thick with unspoken words and unanswered questions. She touched her lips, the feel of his still lingering there, warm and firm. Her heart was racing, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She felt like she had just been hit by a truck, but in the best possible way. For fuck sakes...This isn't what she had in mind at all! Sure, playing with fire is fun, BUT BLOODY HELL...
She might of just bitten off more than she can chewed.
Rose leaned against the counter, her legs feeling like jelly. She couldn't believe it. He flipping fuckin' kissed her, in her own kitchen, after he had seen her at her most vulnerable and pathetic self, in wet clothes, looking like a drowned cat. And she hadn't pushed him away. She had liked it.
Her eyes searched the room, as if trying to find some clue to explain the sudden turn of events. The only evidence of his presence was the damp towel on the floor and the lingering scent of his cologne, mingling with the aroma of his choice of poison, cigarette smoke. She picked up the towel, holding it to her chest as if it could somehow keep her warm, keep her from shivering with the intensity of her emotions.
The silence was deafening, the hum of the fridge and the patter of rain against the window the only sounds to fill the void. Her mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle that was Mikoto Suoh. Why had he kissed her? What did it mean? Was it just a moment of passion or something more?
Her heart was still hammering in her chest, her skin still tingling from the touch of his lips. The kitchen felt cold and empty, the air charged with a tension that hadn't been there before. She had seen the hunger in his eyes, the desire that had been hidden behind his stoic lazy facade. It was as if he had peeled back a layer of himself, revealing a side of him that no one else had seen.
The Red King, had kissed her. It was something she had never expected, especially after their tumultuous first encounter. The rumors and the information she had heard of him were of a man who was as fiery as the aura that surrounded him, but also as lazy and just as cold and untouchable as the ice that made up the rest of the world. Yet here she was, standing in her kitchen, with the evidence of his affection still lingering on her.
She knew the information of how Mikoto had become the Red King.
But that was the story mostly few who were Kings and were connected to the Slate knew. What she wanted was the story that came before, the tale of the young man who had been raised by his grandfather, who had faced loss so early in life. Who was the person behind the fearsome title? What had shaped him into the man who could command the loyalty of an entire clan with a mere look? These were the questions that haunted her as she stared at the spot where he had been standing moments ago. The information her 'Father' didn't privy her to.
With a sigh, she pushed the thoughts away for now, her body craving the warmth and comfort of her bed.
Mikoto's kiss lingered on her mind like a sweet, potent liquor, making her head spin as she stepped into the warmth of her bedroom. The room was a sanctuary of velvet darkness, the curtains drawn tight to keep the outside world at bay. The only light came from the dim glow of a lava lamp, casting a warm, undulating light across the floor and walls.
Her clothes clung to her skin, a cold reminder of the rain outside that was starting to pick up. She peeled them off, dropping them into a sodden pile by the door, and grabbed a dry T-shirt and a pair of shorts from her dresser. The fabric was soft and welcoming, a stark contrast to the chill of the rain-soaked fabric that had clung to her. She paused for a moment, her eyes lingering on the reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a wild tangle of purple curls, and her eyes were wide and dark with a mix of a red face covered in shock and desire.
With a shake of her head, she pushed the thoughts of Mikoto to the back of her mind and focused on the warmth that was slowly seeping into her bones. She slid into bed, the sheets cool and inviting against her skin. Her thoughts drifted to the kiss, as she closed her eyes.
It was like a fire had been lit in her veins, one that she hadn't even known she had been craving.
Rose lay in her bed, the darkness of the room pressing in around her like a cocoon. She could still feel the heat of Mikoto's body, the way his hands had felt on her skin, the taste of his kiss. She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts that were swirling through her mind like a tornado. But it was no use. The day's events played out in her mind like a movie on repeat, each moment more vivid than the last.
Her thoughts were a little too invasive, jumble of confusion and excitement. She had come to HOMRA to protect them, not to get involved with their enigmatic king. But something about him had drawn her in, a magnetism that was as potent as it was dangerous. The way he had looked at her, the way he had made her feel... it was like nothing she had ever experienced before.
Rose let out a sigh, her body finally relaxing into the soft embrace of her bed. The quiet whisper of the rain outside was a gentle lullaby, soothing her frazzled nerves. As she lay there, she couldn't help but wonder if she had made the right choice coming back to this place. But the warmth that had spread through her when Mikoto had kissed her, the way he had held her so gently, told her that she was exactly where she needed to be.
It was strange, really. She had always heard that the Red King was a cold, lazy, but brutal leader, one who never let anyone outside his circle get too close. Yet here he was, treating her with a tenderness that was almost...human. It was refreshing, to say the least.
Rose had never felt so seen before. Not just the way her eyes were ogled by men who thought she was an easy target because of her beauty, and make them pay for it dearly, but truly seen. Mikoto had looked at her and seen that she wasn't just a pretty face with a mouth. He was actually letting someone get to know him on a level that was different from his clansmen. But she was still shocked and remember the scent of whiskey.
' Was he drunk? ' she thought of it just a tad mild in her mind.
Her thoughts grew fuzzy as her eyes grew heavy, the weight of the day's events finally hitting her. The soft patter of rain outside her window grew distant, the sound of it lulling her into a much deeper sleep. Her smile grew as she drifted off, a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room.
It was the warmth of something beginning...
Really trying to make deep details of the characters personalities while keeping them true to themselves, cuz' it wouldn't be K Project anime without its characters personalities kept the same! just...slightly...altered...yeah...anywho, G'NITE!