paper-winged-goddess
He’s never talked to Konan before, not really. They were on two different orbits, two different people completely, always in the same place but never interacting. But, Kakuzu and Pein went on a mission together, to deal with finances and funding, and everyone else carried on their normal routines.
Leaving them alone, in the same room, Hidan’s legs propped on their kitchen table as he leaned back in the seat-- the chair balancing precariously on two legs. His hand moving tentatively, as he underlined and annotated writing in his ( water swelled and food stained and dog eared ) bible, the pen spinning between his fingers in a pause.
His eyes are bright as he peaks over the top of his book, watching the only other person in the room. And although he doesn’t trust her, as some disciple of a false god, he wants someone to run his mouth at. Eyes, stare at that perfectly creased rose she pinned in her hair. Something to fill the silence finally comes to him.
“I like your paper shit. It’s cool.”
