ODE TO THE MURDERED, bonten

22

PART TWENTY-TWO !
lips upon blemished skins i.

            IT WAS YOUR HAGGARD HEAVES that fills the now quiet room, the walls pressed and soaked with the trauma, your harsh cries, the high shrill of the gun crying in your ears, the metallic blood and Mikey's smoked bullets.

    you didn't entertain the platinum that stood at your threshold, prioritizing your short breaths that stuck to your lungs, the tremble that flooded your body and the awful burn on the skin of your neck. you faintly hear Mikey's footsteps coming close to you, the fury was still stuck to his face when he looks at you,

    "slowly inhale, y/n—"

    "did you?" you rasped instead. your wild, vile eyes directing towards Mikey but he seemed unfazed with the glare sent his way. he instead tilted his head to the side, out of confusion and curiosity. the gun was still held on his hand but you didn't care, you were mad and ravaged with a fire that licked through your whole body.

    "don't fucking play dumb, did you try to kill me?"

    "what on earth are you saying now, l/n y/n?"

    "i'm talking 'bout this—" you waved a trembling, frantic hand towards you, towards your assaulter, towards him. "did you order him to try and strangle me? this was not part of the deal—!"

    "i didn't." Mikey's voice is forthright, dull but somehow a little urging. he tucked the gun back into his slacks and slowly approaches you again, testing the waters. when you stayed unmoving by his advances the platinum took this chance to finally reach you. he lazily bends, lifting a hand to rub his thumb against your cold cheek insouciantly.

    the gentle yet familiar action struck a nerve, your head flashes to the memory of Izana, of when he did the same thing to you in your first meeting, and you immediately tore your face from his touch out of reflex.

there was silence. it was silent for a long, long time until Mikey's darkening tone cracks the air again. "what happened to this?" he circles your wrists, pulling it towards his direction, closely inspecting the wound, narrows his eyes at the clumsy shards that still stuck to your flesh.

you followed his glare, you had almost forgotten your bleeding wound in your palm, too focused in measuring your breaths, wheezing back the oxygen in your lung and the burn in your neck.

"why are you quiet? i ordered you to speak."

you felt heavy against his authority, and you part your lips to answer in defeat. "i used the vase Mocchi gave me and hit that man."

he blinks, reaches out to touch your cheeks yet again, "atta girl." you flinch at his praise. suddenly there's fire in your cheeks and the tip of your ears too.

    you proceeded to stand, gaze diverted from the male's fervent dark hues. you try to wobble your way around him to go to the bathroom but Mikey places his gentle palm on your shoulder, pushing you back on the mattress where the cold, slumped body of your assaulter still remained, bleeding your sheets in soaked red. you narrowed your gaze at him, parting your lips but the platinum presses his fingers on your lips,

    "don't force yourself to talk." he says flatly, letting his eyes inspect your injuries and tracing his fingers down your lips, your jaw, chin and to your neck. you winced softly when you felt his touch lingering. "it's starting to swell."