The Only Flaw, You Are Flawless.

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K SO THIS IS GONNA BE IN IWAS POV, HOW EXCITING
(Ignore the bold please if you'd like, I have no where else to ramble ok)
TRIGGER WARNING: PANIC ATTACK
Okay so its like 1:00am and I'm trying to ignore the fact that I not only have school tomorrow, it's also my leAST FAVoRiTe sCheDuLe, you guys will feel probably fairly neutral to find out that I somehow miraculously managed to bring my failing grade in science+ELA upto an A. Don't even know how that happened, I didn't turn anything new in AND spent the whole duration of that class reading fanfics- I never said I was a good student- anyways, no ones gonna be reading this bUT yes, it's storming outside and it's time for chAPTER THREEE!! Ikik, very exciting. Iwa POV time?

Okay so the song I'm using here is flawless (the neighborhood) because when I first listened to it I was like meh and now I WONT STOP LISTENING TO IT why is it pretty? also I think it works for this chap.

I glance next to me at the restrained shivering kid in my passenger seat, thinking back to how absolutely terrified he had been of me and that, even in his petrified state, he'd still managed to want to rile me up.. There was no longer any fury running through my veins, only mild irritation. My mind was getting way out of hand because, now that the adrenaline has worn off, I can't help but find the the other man attractive or rather, pretty.

I let out an exasperated sigh, realizing that the damage had already been done, I had even called him pretty boy during the initial abduction.

Pretty boy (my mind supplied that as his name, against my better judgement) flinched back pretty violently at the sound of my sigh, knowing full well that he could not see me, I looked at him with a hesitant gaze, I absolutely hated this kid but I still didn't really wanna get rid of his annoying company... if only because he is objectively gorgeous.

I feel more anger build up inside me, frustration mostly at myself for going on a whim and choosing this random kid off the streets, it kind of was just a reflex. The fact that Matsukawa's cat seemed to like him and that cat has never ever taken a liking to anyone was really the thing that lead him to making the hasty decision. His logic being that the only reason that cat could have to like Pretty Boy was if the dude was suspicious.

Okay, I get it. It's not the best of logic but really, what else was I supposed to do after he called me short, I mean low blow (heh). Especially when his blood smelled so good, like seriously, I can't think of a word that does it justice. Really though he should learn not to insult literal strangers, he was bound to get at least mugged someday. Well, I guess that not really true because he's gonna be dead soon anyways...

After a couple of minutes, Pretty Boy's muffled whimpering quiets, crimson blindfold only left slightly damp. If I didn't have to be keeping my eyes on the road (more for Pretty Boy's safety than mine really cause... yaknow.. immortality..)

I would've been paying more attention to how the dark red looks on Pretty Boys porcelain skin... Nope. Not doing this, I am going to have killed this kid by next week so what am I doing, obsessing over the clear skin, his pale neck exposed completely to me from his position, leaning back into the seat. The smooth looking skin glows in afternoon light, completely unblemished, practically begging for someone to sink their teeth into his pulse point...

It's clear that the vulnerable body language is not purposeful, probably due to his hands being cuffed and unable to shift into a more comfortable position. Still doesn't stop me from mumbling a quiet but gruff sounding,

"Idiot." Under my breath. The kid flinches towards the door of the car violently and I can see a grimace crossed his expression, probably self conscious of the weakness he just displayed by flinching.

I cringe at his blatant fear towards me, feeling kind of guilty for wanting to see that same fear in his eyes while doing other activities-returning my eyes towards the road. Luckily, the streets aren't really packed with traffic at this time of day.

As we pass yet another apartment complex, I hear the unmistakable sound of the black cat hissing at me, I have no idea why Matsukawa refuses to name her, I guess if he did it probably would end up being something stupid like Beef Stroganoff so I should probably count my blessings-. I glance in the rearview mirror to try to gouge the cats expression, even though it's fairly pointless cause she's a cat. When our eyes meet, I'm not at all surprised to find her glaring at me, feline eyes only softening when they land on the kid.

I roll my eyes at the weird cats antics, surprised that she had another emotion besides frustration but not willing to let her know that. I do pick up on the ridiculousness of me trying to hide emotions from a cat but try to ignore it in favor of watching the kid suddenly struggle against his handcuffs.

And we were almost at the house too... He really couldn't wait to do this until we got out of the car? I watch as he rams his shoulder against the side of the car in a futile attempt at escape. I quickly decide to pull over, grumbling cusses under my breath, hoping that Pretty Boy over there hears my threatening tone.

He definitely seems to have noticed because he suddenly stiffens in the seat, going completely still after he hears my voice.

Up until this point, I hadn't noticed the pace of his breathing increasing but now I certainly do because it just stopped, as quickly as it had increased, it stopped dead with a cut-off, muffled choking noise. At this point I had decided that the kid was starting to (or in the middle of having) have a panic attack.

I hastily unbuckle my seatbelt to get out of the car, some passerby's give me weary glances as I rush around my luxury car but other than that no one seems particularly bothered. I was running towards the passenger side where the kid was freaking out or rather, stopped freaking out because he wasn't breathing.

I have absolutely no idea what to do in this situation, I just need to make sure he doesn't die so that I can feed from him, if he's alive, his blood will last longer.

I yank the car door open, temporarily forgetting the hightened strength, knowing full well that if the kid could still breathe or even comprehend what was happening, he would've jumped out of his skin right now.

I decide on a course of action, quickly bringing my calloused hand up to his copper hair. I ran my hand through locks that were extremely (and not all that surprisingly) soft. Murmuring softly for Pretty Boy to calm down, what I hoped were mostly reassuring words coupled with the odd praise.

In a rush, I take off the red blindfold, as gently as I could muster as to not freak the kid out more. I have no idea what's come over me, I've never, EVER felt the need to reassure anyone, not even my closest friends but right now all I want to do is hold Pretty Boy in my arms and murder anyone who comes near him.. I make a point to ignore these thoughts.

When the blindfold's been completely disposed of (shoved into the cup holder), I gaze into Pretty Boy's unfocused brown eyes, I notice flecks of a myriad of differing colors and make it my mission to not get lost in the teary gaze.

OKOK SO IM GONNA CONTINUE THIS SCENE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER (ALMOST DEFINITELY STILL IN IWAS POV) BECAUSE HURT/COMFORT IS MY K I N K. ALSO I WAS HOPING TO TRY TO DO SLOWBURNN SO I MIGHT MAKE IWA EVEN MORE MURDERY- WHO KNOWS?? ALSO IM PROB GONNA GO OVER GRAMMAR AND STUFF IN THE MORNING BUT RN ITS LIKE 3 AM BECAUSE I WAS WRITING THIS IN BETWEEN READING A FIC- SO YEA BYEE

OH D A M N, I HAVE SCHOOL IN THE MORNINGGG-

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