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Roughly two months ago, before my dad got captured and my life turned for 180°, I had never thought about the rush and adrenaline of being part of some underworld organization. Common sense. I was mostly laid back when it came to dad's business, disregarding it and rather focusing on my own studies. When I reached an eligible age, I immediately moved out. Dad tried to dissuade me from my sudden decision, really, he did, but I had been too stubborn to leave my idea aside. A few days later, I was packed. Taking the keys from my older landlord, I happily assessed the small space, which furniture and equipment were paid from my own pocket. The sink was rusty, yes, and the walls were thin, so there was no way of escaping the loud neighbors. The heater also broke down during the worst weather, the temperature dropping to pitiful 10°C. But it was all mine. I earned it. 

As well as Kid's trust.

He came into the room with heavy steps, staggering on his limped leg. When his fiery gaze met mine, he dropped onto the bed beside me, discarding the scent of blood that rushed through the dark place, lit only by the small lap on the table. I didn't flinch when he cursed, I didn't gasp when his fur coat fell onto the floor. Kid's exposed his pale skin, which shimmered in fresh cuts and bruises that stretched to his stomach, and I thought it would be unfair from me to express complain on his behalf. The pain wasn't mine to endure. So I just silently reached to the small box and displayed the first aid on the clean sheet. Preventing any infections seemed a better idea than just to stay intact. I was quick with the wraps, without having to stop my hands from shaking.

"You got better." He murmured. However his voice didn't reach its full potential. It was raspy at the corners.

I nodded, wanting to stop the words that were threatening to spill from my mouth. It wasn't the time to yell at him. He knew that he was on the wrong this time. But more than that, it hurt when I could only watch him struggle with pain. My heart was hammering in the ribcage and it didn't help when my fingers subconsciously cascaded down his back, following the long, healed line. How many scars are there? How many had been there on his body before they disappeared?

My voice hitched when his hand gripped around mine. Without even turning around, he spoke. "It doesn't hurt. It already happened. There won't be any new ones, not while we are dealing with Joker."

"How can you be so confident? How can you be so sure-"

"Are you doubting me?" He was quick and before I knew what was happening, I was pinned down, the beast hovering me. I already learned how futile it was to argue with the redhead, but what I also acknowledged was how human he actually was. No one want to ridiculed. I got that.

The heat in my face would have emerged if it weren't for the lingering grief that occupied my mind. "I'm scared. I don't want anything to happen to you. To anyone."

"This again?" He dropped his head before looking back at me, visible annoyance forming on his face. "When are you going to drop these dumb thoughts? If that lunatic were such a big shot, none of your friends would be here. Right?"

"... A strange logic."

"Are you saying I'm a liar?"

"No, but a daredevil? Definitely." Kid caught my determined look, and some byway of recognition darted between us.

"He hasn't come after them. He's too confident in himself to take so many steps ahead. And with such mindless stupidity, we'll have the upper hand." He sneered. "We already have it. So why worry, mousey? I won't allow anyone to lay a single finger on you."

"You sure talk big... At least for someone who's battered." I frowned. "Stop it."

He chuckled. As he leaned closer to me, I couldn't help but to tense. Kid's fingers, with an unknown gentleness, brushed along my jaw until they came to a stop on my lips. "If I remember correctly, you weren't any better than me, smarty-pants."

"Oh, no cursing, I see? Did Luffy's punch smash your vulgar vocabulary by any chance?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "What?"

"I'm just thinking what I should do with you."

"In your current state there's not so much you can do." I felt a pang of relief as the conversation was indulging into more neutral grounds.

"Do I hear a challenge?"

"Kid." I sighed while twirling his red locks. They felt incredibly soft under the touch. "I... I don't... I don't know..."

"Spill it, mousey." He leaned even closer, annihilating the last drop of private space. "What's bothering you?"

I looked away. "You won't like the answer."

Now he was serious. "Tell me."

"I was thinking... After this... If all goes down to plan and we survive..." I knew what I feared. But to what extended that dear was ingulfing my mind, I didn't know. I was scared when these bad memories cut loose and invaded my confidence. The fear only came at night, because... It had been easy to be all hyped up in a group, hiding behind a façade. "What will happen after it? With us?"

"... You clearly have too much free time on disposal to think about such bullshit. Who cares about the future? Fucking think about now. This moment."

"... You didn't answer my question, Kid."

"Persistence in this case won 't help. I already told you what I wanted to say. Not what you wanted to hear." The male was ready to get up, but a sudden tick of rage rushed through me and I grabbed his collar, not minding how he slightly winced as I pulled him down. More than feeling dejected, I felt really pissed off. Was it because of his contagious personality?

"You dumbass. When did you learn to be such an ambiguous asshole? Just say the goddamn truth!"

"Or what?"

My grip became stronger around the squashed fabric. I took a deep breath and smashed our lips into a heated kiss. When we parted, I glowered at him. "Around you, I can't even feel sad. You make me angry like hell, Eustass Kid."

Then I stopped. Droplets of realization came to me.

The answer.

The confusion, the pressure of making a wrong decision.

But what was now considered a bad decision? Was his vicinity really as negative as other thought it was? Did I only see Kid as murderer? A yakuza? Or did I see him as a real, living human being with mistakes? "I don't want to change that."

"What are you saying?"

I knelt up on the bed, my hair mussed, my cheeks flushed. "After all of this, I'm going to stick around you like a fly."

He was awe-stricken. At least, that's what I thought he was. He stared at me with a blank, unreadable expression before his lips curled into a grin. My jaw literally dropped when Kid's smile actually reached his eyes and creases appeared on his usual smug face.

"Really? What a cute dumbass you are, mousey. So you invited me here," his hand slowly went down to the end of my shirt, sending a chill down my spine, "for us to spend some quality time, hm? What a cute pervert you are."

Before I could allow my brain to send a white flag and surrender, I grabbed his wrist. "Why do you think I would like to dirty my clothes with your blood? Don't give me that look! They costed a fortune!" It was a lie. I bought them on a sale. And with coupons.

"I can always buy you new ones."

"You mean, Killer can always buy me new ones. You don't really look like a fashion icon. I doubt I would ever receive decent clothes without exposing some parts of my body."

The silence was a bit embarrassing. Then, as if he snapped, frowned. "How the fuck did you just flip this conversation to something as trivial as that?"

"Because..." I bit my lip, "I don't want to... Rush into things.."

"...Fine. But," he reached down to his discarded fur coat, "I'm going to get you. One way or another."

And that' s how my so called, silent treatment, went. Me, flustered, while him leaving the room with confidence and semi-satisfaction.

I was really just digging my own grave by that point. 

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