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writetomyheart2024-09-24 08:55 am
bluedreaming) wrote in writetomyheart2024-09-24 08:55 am
[team three] hush little heart III
India Stoker (Stoker) & Morino Yoru (GOTH); PG; 364 words; kidnapping
A continuation from part I (includes prompt details) and part II, which continues in part part IV. India enter stage left, still unnamed! 😂
Nobody ever asks you to practice for being kidnapped. Most people don’t ever get kidnapped, after all. Yoru has more practice in avoiding situations by the skin of her teeth. Sometimes it’s better just to wait and see.
Kamiyama never says anything, but she’s pretty sure he thinks she has all the seven god’s luck. Sometimes she thinks it annoys him. Mostly, Yoru doesn’t care.
There’s a sudden scuffle; metal on bone, something dragging over rubble on concrete, the sound of something flying through the air before it falls. Pained grunts.
An exhale, close to her head.
Yoru is good at waiting to see what will happen. This time, lithe fingers pull the bag off of her head.
“Hi,” a girl says. She’s a foreigner, grey eyes and long brown hair that’s tangled around her ears. There’s a streak of red stretched across her cheek, and a splatter over the bridge of her nose.
She looks supremely unconcerned. Yoru kind of likes that.
“Hi,” she says, and waits to see what will happen. Courtesy indicates that she should probably introduce herself. Yoru looks around the space instead, mentally shrugging over the two slumped figures on the concrete.
Behind her, something cold touches the skin of her wrist for a moment before her arms fall away from each other. Yoru shakes them out and brings them forward to rest on her lap.
The fingernail on her left pinky finger is cracked. Annoying.
The foreigner comes back into view, stalking over to peer at one of the guys. She nudges him with the tie of her shoe, and he groans.
She shrugs.
“I suppose you don’t know how to drive,” she says abruptly, turning around to face Yoru. Now that she’s standing a little further away, Yoru can see that her skirt is ripped, and there’s a rusty smear on the lace collar of her shirt. Otherwise, she looks perfectly put together.
Yoru stands up, smoothing out the wrinkles on her skirt. Her throat is rusty; she could use that iced coffee.
“No,” she says, instead of thinking about it. “Do you?”
“On the other side,” the foreigner says, shrugging. “But how hard can it be?”
I taggedlovesgaze on Discord & email ✨
A continuation from part I (includes prompt details) and part II, which continues in part part IV. India enter stage left, still unnamed! 😂
Nobody ever asks you to practice for being kidnapped. Most people don’t ever get kidnapped, after all. Yoru has more practice in avoiding situations by the skin of her teeth. Sometimes it’s better just to wait and see.
Kamiyama never says anything, but she’s pretty sure he thinks she has all the seven god’s luck. Sometimes she thinks it annoys him. Mostly, Yoru doesn’t care.
There’s a sudden scuffle; metal on bone, something dragging over rubble on concrete, the sound of something flying through the air before it falls. Pained grunts.
An exhale, close to her head.
Yoru is good at waiting to see what will happen. This time, lithe fingers pull the bag off of her head.
“Hi,” a girl says. She’s a foreigner, grey eyes and long brown hair that’s tangled around her ears. There’s a streak of red stretched across her cheek, and a splatter over the bridge of her nose.
She looks supremely unconcerned. Yoru kind of likes that.
“Hi,” she says, and waits to see what will happen. Courtesy indicates that she should probably introduce herself. Yoru looks around the space instead, mentally shrugging over the two slumped figures on the concrete.
Behind her, something cold touches the skin of her wrist for a moment before her arms fall away from each other. Yoru shakes them out and brings them forward to rest on her lap.
The fingernail on her left pinky finger is cracked. Annoying.
The foreigner comes back into view, stalking over to peer at one of the guys. She nudges him with the tie of her shoe, and he groans.
She shrugs.
“I suppose you don’t know how to drive,” she says abruptly, turning around to face Yoru. Now that she’s standing a little further away, Yoru can see that her skirt is ripped, and there’s a rusty smear on the lace collar of her shirt. Otherwise, she looks perfectly put together.
Yoru stands up, smoothing out the wrinkles on her skirt. Her throat is rusty; she could use that iced coffee.
“No,” she says, instead of thinking about it. “Do you?”
“On the other side,” the foreigner says, shrugging. “But how hard can it be?”
I tagged
lovesgaze on Discord & email ✨