Situation

Chapter 3: Irresistible

Kanda POV: 

I looked up as Allen entered Komui's office, when I heard the overhead announcement I physically groaned and glared at Lenalee from across the hall and she grinned shyly and shrugged. I did my best to keep up my 'I hate the world' expression even though secretly seeing him was exciting. Oh God why did it excite me to see him After the deranged scientist went over his convoluted plan to suddenly house us together, I drew Mugen, "Why would you think we would just submit to that?!"

I feel my collar being yanked as the small whitette drags me out into the hallway. I whip around to slash him with my katana to no avail as he blocks me with that damn arm he is so proud of. Has he been growing his hair out? "Are you happy about this?!" I spit out, trying to pour out all of the venom I can into my voice, "no, heck no! But at this moment we have no other option. Just come on." I sheathe mugen and walk in the opposite direction. I needed some time to process this, if I was going to share the room with him going forward I am definitely going to need a shower. This means I can finally have some fun.

After finding the room, I begin to put my things away. The moyashi exits the bathroom, I keep my head down but take notice of the light sheen of sweat across his face. I hear him jump up onto the top bunk and inwardly smirk, now the torture can begin. I walk into the bathroom and begin to arrange my personal things to my liking; I have known that Allen has had feelings for me for a while, and while the feeling is mutual, it took me a long time to get to this realization so it is still foreign to me in a sense. My walls have always been up when it comes to human emotion, I am not one to take hurt easily, but I feel as though I can trust Allen. I turn my head to the left and am faced with a jacuzzi-shower hybrid, I curse Komui under my breath and disappear out of the staring whitette's sight. I slip my hair tie out and let my blue hair fall down my back, slipping back into his view I begin to brush out the long locks. I see the lust-filled silver eyes staring intensely at me, so I kick my foot out and close the door smirking to myself. I don't feel bad for teasing the boy, in fact, it was incredibly amusing.

I take a quick shower and emerge from the bathroom with some sweatpants on. I feel his eyes glued to the wet skin of my bare chest and I self-consciously run my fingers through my hair, "Who said you get to be on top?" He nearly choked, and I had to stifle a laugh. He straightens his back, "because I want to be," I mutter to myself "stupid moyashi." I sit and start to tie my hair up when I am met with silver eyes staring into mine, Allen is hanging upside down over his bunk looking like a child trying to be noticed by their father. "What moyashi?" I asked rolling my eyes, he huffs in annoyance "It's Allen, BaKanda!" before flipping over the edge, landing on his feet and innocence arm. I had to say I was a little impressed but I know he was showing off. Without looking back, he gathered his things and slipped into the bathroom. I smirked at his attempt of grabbing my attention, I was going to make him work much harder if he planned on being mine, even if I wanted to desperately cave and ask him right then and there. Yu Kanda does not beg, for anything. He is strong-willed and stone-cold, and this little white-haired siren would not change that now.

After reading for a good half-hour, Allen returned from the bathroom wearing sweats and a turtleneck. I brushed it off but a turtleneck this time of year was odd. As soon as he walked past me, the familiar smell of Moonlight Mist hit me, "why did you use my shampoo?" I asked closing my book. He froze, tensing up, "I ran out, and I only used a little." The innocence in his voice was amusing, "Don't use my things." I reopened my book and heard him situate and attempt to get comfortable above me, but he was constantly moving then he gasped in pain. I sharply kicked the mattress, "Oi, Moyashi! Stop thrashing around up there." He whined, "sorry, it just hurts." "What hurts?" I asked, holding back the concern in my voice, "Why would you care?" there was still pain in his voice. "I don't." He leaned over the edge of the bed, his eyes meeting mine. I sharply inhaled when he asked, "Then why ask?" I close my book again, trying to think of ways to get him to stop asking me questions I don't have answers to, "because if you keep flopping around like that you'll keep me up all night." His eyes pool with hurt as he pulls himself back up only to jump back off and change the thermostat temperature. I refrain from asking why he doesn't just change or take off the shirt. Surely he hasn't gotten a serious injury lately?