blood red.
cw. mentions of blood/wounds, swearing.
fangs bared and flaring tempers. animosity in every look, an intensity that bubbles from just being in the same room. hate burns red, but then again, so does love. after all, isn't hate still an emotion of passion?
king is annoyed. he's pissed off, irritated – maybe even angry.
he drums his fingers against the fabric of the armchair. there’s a rip in his shirt, his hair is a mess, and – worst of all – his helmet is broken. he pushes his hair out of his face, irked that he can’t tie it up.
the bane of his existence walks in with a first aid kit. he sighs, loudly and obnoxiously, and you glare at him as you sit down.
“don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.”
“who’s the one that made it difficult in the first place?”
without missing a beat, you simply state, "that would be you."
you carry on, unwrapping bandages, as king merely gapes at you. ever since kaidou placed you under his supervision, you have been nothing but disrespectful, disobedient and disruptive to what should have been an otherwise simple job.
"i'm not the one who tried to climb out a 10-story window," he hisses. "i should've let you fall straight into those thorns."
"no one asked you to help," you reply coolly.
the absolute gall of you.
"believe me, i don't care if you die," he squirms in his seat, biting back the sting of his cuts. "but kaidou wants you alive."
"as if i care what kaidou wants," you mutter as you cut away at his shirt. when he pulls away, you hold down his arm. "stop moving."
the idea of some brat ordering him around makes his blood boil, and if it weren't for the fact that he'd likely start bleeding again, king would love nothing more than to put you in your place.
"i'm not the problem," you continue, ignoring his death glare. "you're the one that's been hissy this whole time. you must be nothing special if your only responsibility is babysitting."
at the attack on his pride, his last thread of patience snaps. "you annoying brat! can't you just fucking cooperate?"
"fuck you!" you finally crack, a fierce anger taking over. "you want people to cooperate then maybe don't lock them up!"
"i wouldn't have to lock you up if you weren't such a pain in the ass!"
"i wouldn't be a pain in the ass if you weren't being an ass to begin with!" you grab his arm. "now fucking hold still!"
you slap disinfectant on king's bloody gash, and he howls at the sting. "that hurts, dammit!"
he glowers at you, seething at the pain. you tell yourself that he deserves it, but – to your annoyance – you can't bring yourself to relish in his suffering. unfortunately, you're not nearly as heartless as king is.
there's a twinge of guilt as you take in his dirty clothes and blood-stained skin.
he wouldn't be in this mess if he didn't rush to catch you.
to king's surprise, you don't make any sort of retort or taunt at his outburst. instead, you press your lips into a thin line and start wrapping his cut in silence. you apply the bandage firmly, but gently, and it doesn't go unnoticed by king.
too angry and proud to say anything else, king merely looks away as you finish dressing his injuries.
"don't move," you deadpan when you're done. "raising your arms will only open the wound."
"fine," he grits. he shakes the hair out of his face, growling in irritation when it don't move the way he wants it to.
you watch as he sighs in resignation, and that stupid voice inside you tells you to do the right thing. you curse your guilty conscience.
"here, let me help."
you stand behind king, carefully gathering his loose curls together. the air is thick with awkwardness as your gentle hands betray the hostility that you're both used to. you start tying his ponytail and take a deep breath.
"thank you," you say in a voice barely above a whisper. "for saving me."
king stills, at a crossroads for how he wants to handle this. it takes this small admission of your gratitude to make him stop and realize the gravity of the situation.
he did help you.
king – one of the all-stars of the beast pirates, right-hand-man to kaidou – showed you mercy when he had no reason to.
and you – captive of the beast pirates, prisoner against your wishes – showed him a grace that he doesn't really deserve by tending to his injuries when you had no reason to.
still staring at the wall, he mutters,
"you're welcome."
like it or not, the two of you are stuck here together – and maybe with some time and a little bit of kindness, you could learn to like it.
part of my (ongoing) character + colour series!
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andrew and neil talking about kevin are like he just exudes this animalistic magnetism... his sex appeal is unmatched.... cut to kevin sitting on the floor organising his socks by colour
THEYRE LITERALLY LIKE THIS ITS SO BAD... i think the most hilarious thing in the world is that kevin is objectively attractive but his personality ruins it, and the two people who don't see it are the two guys that are so emotionally attached to kevin they go back full circle to finding him hot again. its amazing. its meant to be. they're star-crossed. no one is ever going to love kevin better. they think he's this force of nature and kevin is still embarrassed of the things he said when they met
kevin: remember when we were 18 and i told you i could give your life meaning. haha that was so embarrassing
andrew who took it very seriously: :|
on a similar vein lately the #kandreiltrend ive been loving is andrew saying out of pocket shit about kevin to neil and neil being torn between agreeing and regretting that he gave andrew a safe space to say this kind of thing. see example below
andrew looking at kevin wash a cabbage leaf by leaf because abby asked him to wash the veggies: he looks like a baby cow begging not to be slaughtered
neil, mid-thanksgiving dinner preparations: what do you mean by that? andrew. what do you mean by that
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