#// Luck vc is this when they say 'the pot calling the kettle black?'

[c4rdsharp]

❝ you’re unbearably lame. ❞ words spoken from behind a closet door , of course. ❝ most men cheat on their wives or participate in human trafficking in their spare time. and what do you do , gandor — READ ? ❞

     If it were anyone else, panic would’ve ensued. Screams, shouting, accusations. The loud bang of swinging doors & screeching hinges, the gleam of knife’s blade or a cocked gun’s barrel bearing down the face of the assailant. All these things, the natural drama of every day life, would’ve been well - warranted spectacles.      However, the person in question did no such things, staying resolutely calm. Luck wasn’t the type who welcomed people into his bedroom -- in fact, he was rather cagey about who gets to enter and who doesn’t. It wasn’t like him to give an exception to unknown visitors. Of course, most unknown visitors weren’t a 14 - year - old capo hiding behind Luck Gandor’s closet door, complaining of his everyday habits. Rather than annoyance, he was almost amused.      Almost.      Regardless of the intent or the perpetrator, it was still an invasion of his privacy. If Dazai had not elected to speak, if Luck had found him unsuspectingly . . . who knew how fast Luck’s reaction speed to stop himself from shooting would’ve been. A force of habit is a poor excuse for shooting a child, even if said child was a criminal to begin with.      Not that Dazai could tell what Luck’s reaction would’ve been anyway. He’s noticed the slight frustration on the young man’s face whenever they’ve interacted -- it was apparent he wasn’t used to the stoic expressions Luck’s had around all his face, the indifferent stares of a thousand unpredictable eyes. His own father was that sort of man : strict, disciplined, unyielding.      Almost rather unlike the Port Mafia, now that I think about it.      Luck strode over to his closet door, and slid the partition open -- revealing the young boyish face of the Port Mafia’s demon prodigy. He met it back with a cool, disinterested stare, brown eyes lacking light.      “ and, do you make it a habit of holing up in other people’s homes? you may find my habits unbearably boring, but it’s very clear you don’t have much of your own if this is your idea of fun. “ His voice was harsh, but not harsh in the way a capo’s voice ought to have been, seeing another syndicate’s operative spying on his personal wares. Rather, he sounded too much like a father scolding his son for some poor attempt at mischief. Exasperated, tired, yet somewhat good - humored. Almost bordering along the lines of sarcastic.      “ and i sincerely doubt most people do as you say. some may be prone to debts & addictions, to be sure, but human trafficking isn’t something ordinary people do as a hobby. and, infidelity is a habit of the weak ; i am not weak. “      well, in terms of my devotion. strength comes in a variety of forms.      Of course, that didn’t mean Luck was going to specify. Better if Dazai knew less than what he already should know. Frankly, Luck thought he was a simple enough person to understand. Why must people overcomplicate him so much?      He crossed his arms and tilted his head, looking over the bandage - wrapped mafioso head - to - toe in what could be discerned of the shadows. “ . . . do you plan to spend the rest of the evening inside this cramped space, or would you like to come out? if you’d want, i could make you some tea. at the very least, you could do me the honor of acting as a proper house guest should, Dazai - san. “

@longerhuman