Redemption of the Damned

Darling

"I don't believe myself when I say I don't need you." -Liar, Camilia Cabello 

The house was silent, only the sounds of creaking floorboards could be heard. Diavolo laid, completely sprawled out across the couch.

 It had been maybe three days since he'd seen Kira. He hadn't really known what to do with himself over the few days; he didn't know how to feel. Was he bored, tired perhaps? Having nothing to do hardly made him bored before.

He fiddled with a lock of hair, coiling it around his index finger. Of course their interactions had been purely sexual... and somewhat infuriating. Nothing to really miss about it, no reason to miss the constant whining and bitching about everything. Why then was the only thing on his mind his next interaction with Kira? It had consumed his thoughts. It reminded him of Doppio. 

He always got obsessive, whether it be with a person or a hobby. The hobbies usually faded overtime, that painting phase only lasted a few weeks at the most, but people? No, he never let go of that. Some may call it love, but in reality it must just be infatuation. Doppio. Despite his odd tendencies, he listened. Kira was nothing like him. He never listened. Even Donatella was better in that sense, and she was pretty high maintenance. She was originally Doppio's girlfriend, but occasionally Diavolo would talk with her. She was always asking to go shopping, and rarely gave any physical affection. Diavolo wasn't particularly attracted to her, but it seemed like Doppio was for some reason.

Perhaps he was beginning to like Kira's company, no matter how infuriating he was. Maybe Doppio was rubbing off on him. 

Diavolo sat up, leaning over the side of the couch. On the tableside sat his candlestick telephone. He hesitated before picking it up. He ran over the dial with his fingertips, searching in the back of his mind for Kira's number. Did Kira own a phone? Yes, he should, he vaguely remembered discussing this sort of thing earlier, they did exchange numbers. Diavolo twirled the cord around his finger, pulling the phone closer to him. He never actually called Kira, he just showed up when he wanted something. Using a phone was too risky, but Diavolo had one just in case. He hesitated before dialing the number and awaiting an answer from the other line. 

This was stupid, why would he-? 

 Diavolo slammed the phone back down, picked himself off the couch and started pacing in a circle. Why was he acting like this? It was childish and unlike him. This was frustrating. 

He sighed and ran his fingers through his slightly tangled hair. Maybe he will go over there today, but there's no reason to call. Yeah, yeah he'll go over there today. If that was the plan, it would be best to bathe first, hygiene is incredibly important to both of them. Kira would murder him if he came over with a speck of dust. Diavolo chuckled a little bit at the thought, it was hardly an exaggeration. 

 He walked over towards his bathroom, filling his tub with lukewarm water. It was lucky that it was summer, bathing in cold water during winter was a nightmare with long hair cooling down your body temperature. It was easy to see why almost everyone he met had short hair, it was simply more convenient. He liked his hair though, even if it wasn't the most practical.He discarded his clothes once the water had reached an acceptable length, climbed into the tub and started to aggressively scrub his skin with a bar of soap, ignoring his hair. He had washed that yesterday.

  He didn't need to wear anything fancy, it would be gone within a few minutes, but he wanted to feel attractive nonetheless. He chose a basic pair of pants, there weren't many options there, but with the shirts, he had more options. A lot of his clothing was actually meant for women. 

He found that he got less weird looks going into women's shops for some reason. Maybe it was the hair. It was probably the hair. He decided to use a black silk scarf tied in a way that gave the illusion of a dangerously low cut shirt. Before he tied it on though, something shoved away in the back of his closet caught his eye. A brassiere that came with something else he had bought. 

He never intended on wearing it, he had no use for it obviously, but it was a very nice piece. Black, lacey, obscenely sheer in some areas, it could potentially be an excellent addition to his ensemble, even if it wasn't the most... Traditional. 

 He slipped it on along with the scarf, it was a bit loose, but it looked fantastic. Something was missing though. Diavolo went back to his bathroom and shuffled around his cabinets. Ah, here it was. 

This would make a wonderful addition to his outfit.