Array
(
[text] =>
💌
Just maybe
ft. cockroaches
” 널 위로 한다면 “
–
“RAIDEN SCARAMOUCHE.”
The male was toppled out of his bed with the sudden yell, letting out a chain of ‘fucks’ as he hit the floor. Scaramouche rubbed the back of his head and cracked one eye open whilst glaring holes into the door.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT.”
The said door burst open, a series of inhuman speed thumping up the stairs following before. There his coworker was, in all her Sunday morning glory. She didn’t mind the dead violet eyes staring at herself with a done expression, far too distracted by something.
“Did you organize all the taxes??” He winced as she yelled with her eyes nearby popping out of her sockets. A stack of papers were in her left arm, slightly wrinkled by her grip, the other arm still holding onto his door as Y/n huffed from running up the stairs.
“Um. Yeah.” Scaramouche vaguely remembered sighing at the mess of bills and papers scattered across the living room once. Water, taxes, income- inarguably disgusting stuff. But it took less than twenty minutes to organize the payings and throw a blanket over her sleeping figure. Not that he cared about her resting in a slouched position, he simply didn’t want the teacher complaining about catching a cold sometime later. Or whining that she couldn’t find the muscle relaxation medicine in that trash can of a drawer.
Just as he was about to get up from the floor, a new weight pressed onto him. “I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, LET’S LIVE TOGETHER FOREVER!”
The first thing he saw was… Nothing. But his face was squished into something soft.
It was only when she let go of the grip on his head when realization of what the squishiness was slapped him across the face.
“Oh my goodness, you don’t understand how many hours of absolute misery, sorrow, aging, white hair growth and a waste of time you saved me from. The days I spent crying over a piece of paper and numbers printed in ink and throwing calculators across the house.. Only to find a human calculator. I absolutely do not care about how or when you broke into my accounts and laptop-“
The rest of her rambling was unheard by him. He sat there wide-eyed at what just happened, staring into her.
A part of him wanted to throw a snarky comment and kick her out of the room to resume sleeping. But another part of him… Genuinely enjoyed her voice. The hand gestures almost slapped him multiple times. A deaf person could probably understand her perfectly fine in a conversation despite the teacher not knowing an ounce of sign language.
He let the higher toned sound of her voice come through one ear and escape through another, but somehow subconsciously caught on with everything she said.
The question of the day was how her one-sided conversation suddenly turned into a rant about the history of bread.
☆
Sprawled over the couch on his side, the young man sighed in bliss. His housemate was probably drawing upstairs, his room was cleaned… As a cherry on top, there was a random documentary about a lady whose limbs were chopped one by one playing on the tv. The fact the incident was not even two streets away didn’t come across his mind.
An incoherent screech that lasted a solid five seconds from upstairs made him jump for the second time that day. Kunikuzushi almost instinctively stood up and dashed up the stairs, skipping every other step.
“What the actual hell.”
None other than the owner of the house, on top of a dusty bookshelf in a crouched position. Her eyes were shut tight while leaning into the wall beside her figure. “C-cock..” He almost exit the room right there and then until Y/n completed her sentence with tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. “THERE’S A COCKROACH UNDER MY BED, WHATIFITHAUNTSMEAFTERISTEPONITOHMYGOODNESSWHATIFITCARRIESANINFECTIOUSDISEASERAHHHHHHHHHHH”
The teacher sighed and walked into the room. It appeared to be a second bedroom of some sort which seemed it hadn’t been used in a while. All the unwrapped canvases and dirty sketchbooks stacked across the space proved the room was likely a storage place.
He knelt down onto the floor and peered underneath the bed. Some balls of dust, a plastic aquarium plant, two pink rubber ducks, a mannequin head by the corner.. Maybe living with her made his mind confused on what to find normal or not. Scaramouche was about to get up and leave her be.
Something tingled on his arm.
“GET IT OFF ME!”
“AHHAHHHHSJSjsh **** *** *** ****** ******** ******* **** ****** **********”
Kunikuzushi wasn’t even in the place to question the chain of unholy words that came out of her mouth. He spun around and thrashed his arms, Y/n’s screams becoming louder, threatening to turn into hysterical sobs.
☆
“Now what?”
“Burn it, stab it, cut off its antennas millimeter by millimeter, freeze it, drown it, rip its wings out and cut the insides, let it starve, electrify it and put it underwater, drive over it, microwave it-“
“Can you help me down first…?” Y/n looked around herself, finally taking note of her surroundings. The ceiling was centimetres above her head and the crammed position was cutting off blood circulation. Scaramouche raised his head from the glass he somehow trapped the devil itself in. He sighed and got up from the ground. “How did you even get up there in the first place?” There was a table beside the shelf, but it still would’ve been too low for her to reach the top even while standing on it. All the objects on the desk was perfectly undamaged and standing even if she did somehow use it to climb on.
“Um.. Survival instincts?” She awkwardly looked down. The next few minutes was spent with him coaching her on where to place her legs to get down. It ended up making Y/n sit perfectly still after almost falling to her death more than five fingers could count. He looked like he was in the verge of combusting and shaking the shelf until she fell off.
Scaramouche placed a hand on his temple and sighed. He soon left the room for a few seconds, returning with two pillows and flopping them on the ground. “Fuck this. Just jump.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m going to die fantastically that I’ll go down history for at least three generations, not a crazy lady who jumped off her closet after her housemate caught a roach kind of death!”
Y/n stared into the pair of deadpanned indigo eyes with glossy ones, limbs beginning to ache with the position. Scaramouche stood up and placed a book on top of the cup containing the roach to prevent any chances of the insect escaping. A faint outline of six lumps was visible for a few moments as his shirt flexed and stuck to his skin at the movement.
How she would pay millions to get the opportunity to draw him nude.
crack
Her eyes widened while looking around, attempting to identify the source of the sickening sound. Scaramouche stared at the shelf right beneath the top- where she was currently sitting on. Another crack came.. Perhaps this was her price of all those sinful thoughts-
“AHHHHHHHHHAAAA”
Quite ungracefully, gravity embraced her down to the ground. The wind rushed past her face and hair crashed into her eyes. That old shelf that’s probably been around longer than you never seemed so tall until that moment. How long was that even in this room for..? Before she moved in?
Just as Y/n was about to accept death, a groan came from beneath. “…My ass hurts.” She didn’t even notice that the world ceased to spin. Instead, she was laying on top of something….. It wasn’t the carpet floor nor the pillows. Her face was buried in a black fabric that smelled of faint cologne and tea.
“I LOVE YOU SO MUCH”
☆
The blue haired teacher sat lounged across the dining table, drained in every possible way. Socially, emotionally, physically, mentally- name it all.
That woman somehow still alive and cooking in the kitchen. Even scarier, she paused to dance to certain parts of the songs coming from the portable speaker nearby.
Extroverts are terrifying.
Outside was nearly dark, the winter to blame. Tiny snowflakes fell from the sky, thankfully melting as soon as they hit the warmer earth. At least frozen cars wouldn’t have to be dealt in the morning.
The smell of delicious food being cooked in the kitchen, the comfortable blanket of silence but with faint background noises going on. A dish being placed in the sink, something being used to stir the pot, the old ass music coming from her playlist that probably hadn’t been changed in the last five years. It all felt so… Unfamiliar. But not in a bad way.
“Cal-li-for-nia girls we’re unforgetable~~ Daisy dukes, bikinis on- I FINALLY FOUND MY PAINTBRUSH!”
She paused the small concert and cried out loud as the brush she’d been looking for the past month finally revealed itself. The single audience watching was not minded. After staring at the found object with a wondered expression, Y/n quickly dunked the spoon back into a steaming pot of something. Kunikuzushi snorted at the sight and looked back out the window.
To have someone living with, and not just exsisting in the same space was… Something he was not used to.
“Scara, do you want chili peppers in the curry?”
“I don’t care.”
A challenging grin took place on her lips. “You asked for it~ Get ready to have your tongue numbed!” With that, the female opened the lid of a small jar of red powder. It was quite literally dumped into the mixture. A few coughing and sneezing followed.
The only thing Kunikuzushi stared at was between the window, and his companion. How she shamelessly sang along to the music, her face contorting into different expressions throughout the cooking, and just- her.
He shook his head and scowled at the thought. What was there to look at her anyways? She didn’t even understand the concept of shame or embarassment and was simply childish. It’s not even that her appearance is above average either- if anything, it’s far down below.
A pair of violet orbs scanned through the h/c haired female nearby. Silky hair that bounced each time she moved around, how her eyes refected the light and widened in surprsie because of something. Okay, maybe she was somewhat average.
“Ta-daaa! Extra spicy Japanese curry, served by yours truely.” She sat down from across him, setting two steaming plates down. Kunikuzushi stared at the food laid in front of him. Food that was made from someone else other than himself that’s not made in a restraunt. Half of the rice was covered by a layer of yellowish brown liquid at a thick consistency along with a variety of vegetables and meat amongst the mixture. A faint smell of spice tingled his senses.
The younger teacher soon scooped up a bite, tilting her head at the lack of spice. Just as she was about to grab more peppers, it hit.
Scarmouche watched in amusement as his housemate flailed around the kitchen with the tip of her tongue sticking out, tears prickling the corner of her eyes. Two people in a single house, yet not a single centimeter of the place felt empty.
It felt like home.
☆
Another sigh left his lips for the millionth time that night. Monday was in front of his nose yet not a wink of sleep would come home.
Scaramouche groaned quietly as the scenes from the day flashed through his mind. The tax incident, the roach hunt, the curry- (which he ate perfectly fine) his brain just refused to shut up. For the first time in a while, he wished for absolute silence once more.
Pale moonlight shone through the window, its gray blue curtains still wide open from Y/n’s entry that morning.
Kunikuzushi finally sat up from the bed and threw his pillow to the wall. It fell to the ground with a soft thud, wrinkling and folding in half in the process. At least that didn’t result in hole number two. He let his feet touch the cool wood tiled surface of the floor. The glossy wooden glory was finally shown after lifting all the clothes and garbage littering the surface. The process was mostly her chittering about something while mindlessly picking the instant coffee cans up.
Even during the cleanup, she only ever gave him light scolds to keep his room clean. It felt weird. To have someone care about your garbage dump of a living space. And not criticizing your every move.
His bluish locks reflected the moonlight as he quietly opened the door. Despite always finding how his guest room was the only wood floored room upstairs, Scaramouche simply decided to live with it. This wasn’t even his house, what was there to complain. Many things changed since he moved in. Although he would never admit it as long as he was alive with a voice, Kunikuzushi was grateful to the same person who was probably snoring away with her phone beside her bed, soon to be crying next morning about how her phone didn’t charge.
Well, there likely wasn’t much people out there who would welcome an opposite gender coworker to live with them for who knows how long. The fact she didn’t even know him for a full year made it seem worse.
Just as he was about to open the door to outside, a voice called from behind him.
“Scaramouche…? What are you doing up this late?” Y/n stared at him with owl-like eyes on the couch. There was a book clutched in her hands and a candle burning on the table. The male internally slapped himself for not noticing the company before. “I’m going out for a bit. Need anything from the convenience?”
Why did he even ask that… Just as he was about to take it back and run out, a smile took place on her lips. He felt his breath hitch, choking in his throat. It almost felt as if his insides were twisting and folding- about to burst out any given moment.
But strangely, it wasn’t painful. Almost the opposite.
“Hmm.. Maybe some flavored milk? Preferably (f/f).” Kunikuzushi didn’t give her a responce and instead twisted the door open, grabbing his shoes from the rack nearby.
The night air rolled over his skin like a tide. He couldn’t even feel the burning chill on his arms and the nipping cold.
A lamppost flickered nearby before turning back on, illuminating a small moth fluttering by it. There was snow piled to the side of the concrete path, already hardened into ice. They likely wouldn’t melt until mid spring at the very least.
Just as he was about to cross the street, rapid footsteps echoed through the empty neighborhood. “Wait wait! Are you going without a jacket???”
The teacher turned around to see a slightly smaller figure running towards his direction. There was a black coat which belonged to him in her grip. She was still wearing the penguin pajama pants from inside. “We go to work tomorrow and you’re already planning to catch a cold. Nice try.”
Scaramouche stared at the article of clothing offered to him. Looking back at the female, he noticed she were only wearing her house wear and nothing on top. Faint shivering could be caught from her, probably wanting to go back into the toasty house. He let out a white mist of breath and took the jacket out of her grip. A sigh of relief came to her lips as she was about to turn around and run back. Something draped over her shoulders.
“You’re coming with me now.”
With that, a cold object held onto her wrist and began dragging her along down the street. Scaramouche avoided eye contact and instead kept his vision glued to the street. Y/n’s brain was busy trying to process the situation.
“Huh…?”
The rest of the trip was filled with her nagging and attempt to take the jacket off, back to its rightful owner. Her companion only responded by zipping it fully onto her, and went along his merry way.
Let’s say the following day wasn’t exactly the most sickness-free. But even amongst her pestering and worry, he regretted absolutely nothing.
Okay, maybe he considered her as a friend. Just maybe.
——
f/f = favorite flavour
A/n I hate algebra sm who tf decided to mix letters with numbers I wana kms
2794 words
[text_hash] => b47a0ca8
)