nyctophilia
[ nĭk′tə-fĭl′ē-ə ]
n.
a preference for the night or darkness
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"oh we're definitely killing them then, I need to add more numbers to my kills."
"you sound like a serial killer."
"I know, I still wo...
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San's POV
the box was burning a hole in my jacket pocket.
why didn't I just give her the ring earlier? no, I just had to go and fight with her for the umpteenth time. I should've known that it would happen. the stress, anxiety, and the reminder that we were constantly being observed was taking a toll on the both of us. not to mention the fact that we were already on bad terms.
I couldn't blame her for feeling that way. I wasn't a patient person to begin with, but to have her usually calm and collected self crumble in the middle of a mission did nothing to make me feel good. this, like many other times before, reminded me that I was lacking in something when it came to this partnership.
communication.
if that was what she wanted, then that was what I was going to give her. it wasn't an easy thing to fulfill, but I sure as hell have to try.
this mission wasn't like the other ones we had in the past. yes, we've been through life and death situations earlier, though this particular case was more intimate and personal than anything we had ever done before.
she probably wasn't used to dealing with this sort of relationship. like she said on the train, I don't look like I've been in a relationship. I haven't, but it was close to a relationship. sort of.
maybe I should've helped her?
I slowly walked up the stairs and into our shared bedroom, only to be met with the petite figure of Eun sprawled out on the bed, face hidden in the messy clump of blankets and pillows thrown in a disarray.
did she throw a tantrum or something?
"Eun," I started, waiting for a response I knew I wouldn't get, "Eun, listen to me."
I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. when she refused to reply, I sat back closer so that she could hear me.
I slipped off my jacket, taking the box out of the pocket before throwing the jacket on the nearby couch. when she had felt the object in the kitchen during our arguement, I panicked. I didn't know why though, it was only a ring.
was this how people felt when they proposed?
but this was different, I wasn't proposing to her. we were already married, fake married, actually. I wasn't supposed to feel so tense if this was all just an act.
