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Nights like these were what Sanzu lived for. Nights when the moon’s light would show through the cracks of curtains. Where he sat in the bedroom floor, holding a bloody razor.
Nights where Takemi would let him use that razor on her light using a blank canvas. But if that were the case, then he’s been working on this canvas for months by now.
Every thin line of red on her skin, every piece of ripped flesh, he’d lick her thighs clean like a filthy dog, before they could go back in their own slumber. Only the best for his angel.
She reached for him, to which he’d happily move forward. Her hands touching the scarred skin of his face. She giggled.
”Oh Haru~ so adorable, my Haru~”
He shivered at her voice. That honey dripped voice, and the way his name slipped right off her tongue. His name has always sounded good whenever it was coming out of his angel’s mouth.
Either she’d scream, cry, sing or just say it oh so casually, it would never sound wrong. For he was hers, and she was his. They belong to each other, only them, together.
He leaned into the warmth of her hands, cradling his face.
She was always gentle with him. As gentle as the moon’s glow. That’s one of the things he loved about her.
Once he’s finished, he’d admire his own work. Like he always did. He preened at the kisses he received from her, starting from his forehead to the corners of his scarred mouth.
Oh, what an angel his Kemi was. So sweet, so gentle, so, so so, very kind. How could she ever accept him for what he was?
With his ugly, terrible face, his bruised, bloodied hands, the callouses rough on his palms. His teeth gone yellow from his own hobby. Every little imperfection about him, how Takemi accepts all of them. All of him.
He could bathe in the bliss of it all.
He got up and went over to his own side of the bed, right beside her. He buried himself deep into her body, his nose at the crack between neck and chest.
He took a deep inhale, as if she were the drugs that got him the highest.
Takemi wrapped her arms around him, caressing the back of his head, and he’d do the same, wrapping his arms around her waist like a sloth on a tree branch.
It’s nights like these that remind him of how good he has it. He’s lucky. So lucky, to find such an Angel like Takemi.
And it was mornings like the next day that made him remember that he was still a kid.
When he’d wake up at six to his dearest angel, in the kitchen and cooking up whatever she could, while they waited for her parents to give her her allowance so they could buy groceries.
Takemi’s parents. He detests them. Despises them and his own for leaving their own children to the dust, to fend for themselves. But if it weren’t for them, none of the events that led up to him meeting Takemi would’ve ever happened. So he’ll give them some credit.
He’d sit on the dining table, and wait patiently for her. The house, formerly empty, and dull, now had it’s own fair share of decorations to it. The walls stayed the same, but they had pictures of each other hung up around the walls, especially the hall.
Pictures of Takemi in her first day of school, aka the first time since years that he’d be in the house without her. That’s why he’s always out, either waiting until three, doing whatever he wanted, and then going to Takemi’s school to pick her up.
He’d also usually bring her to school himself, walking there, and once they’ve reached the entrance he’d fuck off to wherever he goes to. But sometimes, he’d be busy, so she made some other friends to walk with her.
Today was Monday. He’s not busy on Mondays. But apparently his leader dearest, Mikey, had other plans. Why were they suddenly holding a meeting? He doesn’t know.
He texts Takuya, one of the friends of Takemi’s, telling him out right, “Don’t be late.” As to say, ‘Don’t make Takemi late.
He put the phone away and stood back up, to get himself dressed.
He’s sure the message was already sent. Takuya isn’t one of the dumb friends of Takemi’s. He’s glad she has at least one intellectually capable person by her side at school. Saves him the trouble of scolding.
Surprise meetings ticked him off. It messes with his time schedule, and compromises his time with his angel. Like right now. Seriously, a meeting after another? This was a waste of time.
And better yet, it was right after Takemi’s dismissal, and since he didn’t have enough time and motivation to deal with anyone for being late, he had to bring her with him to the shrine.
She was probably so bored, waiting for him alone back there, with his bike.
He sighed, and felt a vibration in his pocket, where he kept his phone.
It’s from Takemi.
’I’m gonna go to a cafe with a friend. Go home first. I’ll be back by five or six. Be safe!’
Ah. Good. She won’t be bored, she’ll just be at a cafe. He just hopes she’ll be fine.
After that meeting, he’s already standing up and going home.
”Ken-chin, let’s go to a cafe! I want sweets.” He hears just a bit of his leader’s conversation, but pays no mind to it. His mind already drifting off to what Takemi would cook up for him tonight. Or if she would bring back some leftovers. She never had that big of a stomach.
Later, Takemi would be home. They’d eat together, with Sanzu listening to her rambling, and cleaning up after her quietly every time she spilt something.
Then they’d go to bed, with him admiring his work on her body. The thin scars, as if paint, oh so beautiful on Takemi, as always.
He laid between her legs, his chin on her stomach, and her soft hands playing with his hair.
Like how he liked to paint on her skin, Takemi’s canvas was his hair.
”Oh! And I met your captain while at the cafe! He had the same uniform as tou so I just asked him if he knew you, and whaddya know! He’s that Mikey you told me about back then!” She said enthusiastically, and he could feel his heart stop.
.
.
.
What.
T.B.C