“ i miss you. i know i’m not supposed to, but. i just had to see you. ” not a mockery, but a malice intention from the death to see her reaction.
Prompt: - @kodea
The words are spoken by an all too familiar baritone; a shadow, a silhouette, and an inhuman being. She'd seen him often in her line of work, not intentionally but Death and Mishil crossed paths too many times to be considered strangers.
No... She's known death since she was a child. Since the fateful day, she'd been marked by death against her very chest, and since then, his steps trailed after her own. It had infuriated her initially, made her wary and fierce. In time, it also oddly gave her solace, an answer to where she could end the fateful day she would die. A comfort to the souls she's had to see fades away when purified.
She lay on the floor of her quarters, dark hair tinting vermilion spread out and her body covered in fresh bandages and stitches. Her last mission was brutal, yet oddly... She hadn't heard or seen him. She'd grown almost used to his hovering and random quips.
Just as she closed her eyes, feeling the familiar ache and throb of her sore body--she'd sense a flicker. A shift in her surroundings and forced her eyes to open. Death had returned, only he felt... strange.
The words spoken to her made her frown, studying his current form and features. He wasn't mocking her or being sarcastic, and yet... Something in his words gnawed at her. Stirred at something within her core and twisted her stomach.
❝ What the hell? ❞ She began, exhaling a weary sigh. She blinked slowly, the gears in her mind still echoing his earlier words and their weight. ❝ You missed me, but aren't supposed to miss me? ❞ An odd choice of words... She'd seen how compassionate and reassuring he was to those who were passing over... But could it be?
❝ It's because you aren't supposed to miss me, isn't it? ❞ Death wasn't meant to discriminate or hold favorites, right? He'd always hovered when she underwent a challenging time on her cases, and while her heart still ached... it sometimes did feel a bit lighter. Not always, but the pain wasn't as intense as before. She had wondered if it was his influence...
She didn't feel like he was exploiting her but... He never denied her any answers before. That had to be it...
❝ I can't tell if you like me or if you want to feed off my heart. ❞ Which was true. but he admitted to breaking his own rules. ❝ That why I haven't seen you around? Thought something came up. ❞ Not that it'd surprise her--and she'd been busy too. Mishil stared up at her ceiling, her golden eyes glimmering. ❝ What do you want from me? Everything that I've ever had is gone---and you know why. So, what could you want from someone who has nothing? ❞
All she had now was a beaten body, a shabby room, and her weapons. She had no family to give. No friends. No peace. Her heart was a storm of discord. A thought that made her shut her eyes with a sigh. ❝ And if its a fight you want, I'm in no condition for that either. I couldn't even make it to bed as I am now but that's fine. Floor's comfy with a rug. ❞
She felt him move, and after a long pause, felt solid hands lift her up and set her down carefully into her bed. She blinked slowly, exhaustion creeping over the protesting aches throbbing throughout her body. ❝ You haven't answered me yet. ❞ She insisted, quietly as her hand caught his sleeve. ❝ What do you want? ❞