Anton Chigurh x Reader
Part 1 | "There's No Such Thing as a Mistake"
(Amazing song right there that kinda reminds me of NCFOM / Anton Chigurh, you don't have to listen tho obviously.)
Contains; SFW, personal callouts (I'm putting those in here because maybe you'll discover yourself reading my stuff, I feel as if that's what makes a good story; one where you can see yourself), tension, kinda detailed writing, lowk kinda long, ass ending that may piss you off, might get you on the edge of your seat, etc
It started out in the late afternoon (about 6PM), you were coming home after visiting with one of your friends. You respected your friend, but sometimes your social battery just wasn't good enough to stay with them for as long as you did. Your friend was one of those people who'd blindly accept others, no matter if they get hurt or not. You'd feel bad, but you just didn't have it in you, partially because of your lack of understanding. You never really understood people much, especially for their mindless dependency.
Maybe you spent too much alone, or maybe you're just smarter than most. You thought about this more while walking to your door after they dropped you off. You listened to your shoes pressing against the grass, wondering if maybe you were the hypocrite here. There was almost never a time where you were yourself. You've tried countless times, but it just never mattered. There was always something you'd have to hide behind. You've been just about everything at least once. Responsible, irresponsible, loved, hated, smart, ignorant, diligent, careless. You had one goal in mind set; find yourself. You got closer just about everyday.
You paused with your hand on your doorknob, your brows furrowing slightly as you notice something was off. Your eyes were attached to the fridge in front of you, taking in the environments feel before looking around curiously. Not only was your doorknob messed up, but it was ajar, too. You take a soft breath, analyzing the space ahead of you. The air was still; too still. It was uninviting and harsh. Someone is here. It wasn't your paranoia acting again, though apart of you hoped it was. You, being intelligent in your perspicacious skill, quietly shut the door, your eyes wide and analyzing as you finally stepped inside.
You thought maybe it was a angry family member at first, but it just felt like something was planted there, waiting for you. You didn't leave the house like this. You knew you wouldn't panic, you've put yourself in many situations before. You definitely had the time to, considering your lack of commitment for just about anything.
You looked over at the couch that you so ignored for the first few seconds, and you saw him. A man you don't recognize. His eyes were staring into you. He was sat straight up, his presence dominating, his gaze looked at you expectantly, looking ready to do something, but was clouded behind those heavy eyelids. Your heart was beating out of your chest; not with fear, but excitement-- adrenaline. You were pretty tired from waking up early, but you widened your eyes slightly, staring almost like a deer in headlights. There was no other sound. There was nothing else, just the both of you breathing and the quiet hum of the other dim yellowish light above. It's almost like there was a God to answer your prayers. Something new, something that wouldn't bore you, at least for now...
"Finally, something interesting." you thought to yourself before walking over with caution, making sure to look away when you were about 6 feet away from this guy, looking back up. You wanted to smile, but there wasn't really anything reasonable to smile about, so you just stayed quiet. You got a better look at him there, your eyes almost greedily grazing on his untouched, nearly perfect appearance. He looked, well, perfect. Not just because he was handsome, but because there wasn't a thing messed up about him. Well, maybe his hair, but even that was symmetrical... Mathematical.
Your breath hitched softly while you rudely take in his appearance, staring like a kid in an aquarium for the first time. He lets you look. He doesn't stop you. He expected you to break the silence, and you did.
"H-hey..." you managed to stutter out, a little intimidated by his oddly professional appearance. You weren't used to being blankly assessed like this, especially under such a heavy gaze. Your first assessment on this man was assuming he WAS waiting on you, but he had something wrong; the look on his face made you wonder if he was depressed, or hell, maybe suicidal. You recall being like that at points in your life. "Um, sorry..." you sigh, sitting beside him. His gaze never left you.
When you sat next to him, he took the chance to analyze you. His stoic, watery eyes flickering to your clothes before briefly glaring back up at you.
"Do you know how you got here?"
You jump a little, almost subtly but he picks up on it, his glare slowly shifting to your body before he looks at away, tilting his head to face forward like how he was. He looked oddly dissociative. You clear your throat to compose yourself.
"Yeah?" you insist softly, realizing you may have misread him. That was a rare thing that happened. Now you weren't just excited; you were interested. Your coy act slowly disarming itself and replacing itself with interest. Before you knew it, this man has hooked himself onto you.
He doesn't answer. He breathes in sharply before be turns to face you, his hands neatly on his lap. When he turned to face you, you realized you didn't even ask who he was or why he's there. You thought about asking, but realized he was there for you, and judging by his behavior, he's probably going to kill you, or at least he wants to.
"You gonna kill me?" you ask softly, a small smile slowly forming on your lips. One thing most people mistake about you is how capable of fear you are. You weren't very capable at all. Your life was too eventful to care about anything much, you've already accepted death many times, even if it was an option, you wouldn't get rid of it.
Antons tired eyes shifted over to you, at first, he reads your amusement as mockery, but he doesn't do much about it. He keeps staring at you, this time his eyes don't move. At least for a long while. He blinks once..... Twice. He understood this assignment given, at least you think so.
"You must be eager to trade your life for nothing." he states softly, locking eyes with you. He looks over and away... He's grabbing something from his pocket.
"...Eager is... Nearly an overstatement. I'm not eager, I'm expectant. I don't fear the inevitable. I'm asking you if you're here to do the job." you correct, nearly offended with his confident yet wrong analysis.
His eyes shifted to floor in front of his boots before he faced you, moving like something delicate was in his hand. He didn't move otherwise. He stared at you, tilting his head slightly in acknowledgement after a moment, his eyebrows perking up slightly, feigning surprise; or at least you'd call it that.
"You understand." he mutters, his cold, glassy eyes not moving an inch from your face. His fingers give out the quarter, and he looks back at it. He sighs lowly and leans back, putting his arm on the armrest. He seemed to be thinking about what to do with his situation next.
You loved bringing people off guard. You saw this as a success in your eyes. You weren't worried about dying, you were worried about interesting him. Maybe you could strike up a conversation with him, well, maybe, not just yet, at least. If it's meant to happen, it'll happen.
"Fate brought me here. Just like it brought you here. Whether your time is near or not, isn't up for me to decide." The man states softly, looking back at you for a moment, a soft double chin nearly prominent. You couldn't help but take a liking to this guy. He didn't bother to hide anything, at least in an obvious way. His gaze shifts over to his shiny quarter that he brought to your attention, placing it on his thigh. After, he shifts his gaze to you.
"Call it. The coin will tell us through the choice we do not have. It'll tell what's going to happen." He politely demands, his head not tilting in either direction while his eyes stayed glued to yours, almost like a hovering wasp eyeing its food. What he spoke and his tone were very two ailen things; pretending to give you illusion of choice, but demanding answers like a cranky teacher.
You stare at the quarter for a moment, analyzing it heavily and thinking about what to "choose". You understood this man, alot. More than you'd ever publicly admit.
"Let's do tails." Feeling your feet grow cold under this tension, you shift your position, watching him expectantly with interest. Your shoe tucked under the thigh that wasn't facing him. Mirroring him, you act unperturbed. While you get a little more comfortable, he flips the coin, high. He ends up slapping it on the back of his hand. He covers it, looking at you again. He glances back at his hand that uncovers it. He locks eyes with you, reading you again.
"You were right." He breathes softly, tension being released from him. You understood quickly and also untensed under his gaze. "You don't fear it."
"Even if I did it wouldn't matter." You reply softly, leaning back and man spreading, almost to impress him. Obviously, he doesn't care, he doesn't even look there.
Silence is shared between the two of you for a moment before he puts the coin away, getting up and grabbing some weird looking tank with a red hose, presumably what destroyed your doorknob.
"Wait." You call out, almost a little more desperately than intended. Almost unphased, he looked back at you, his eyebrows twitching upwards and his gaze almost zombie like. Nobody's ever called to him, he didn't know what to think.
"I... Um... I enjoyed your company. I know it was tense and all, but you're appreciated. I know that doesn't matter and all but you should give yourself a break, hitman or not. Your presence is welcomed here." You desperately tried to compliment him, give him any sign that you see him as a human being, but of course, he dismissed it.
"You're only saying this because you think I gave you the choice of mercy." he moves to keep walking, not even looking back again. "Fate doesn't follow the rules of welcome or thanks." He turns the doorknob and makes his way outside, leaving you alone.
You sat there on the couch, oddly disappointed. Years, years you never had such an interesting interaction. You thought about maybe chasing him but... You just weren't sure what to do.
After about an hour or recollection, you get up and go to your room, merely only switching where you thought about him and his words.
A/N: Thinking about makin a part 2 soon, I'm pleased with how this turned out... I might judging on the attention I'll get, I shouldn't promise anything 😥
