Sae takes a spoonful of ice cream, “I haven’t even spoken yet.”
“No, I mean... you've got the voice of a villain.”
The weather was nice, and you had gone out to wander around. That was probably the last comment he was expecting. “Elaborate,” he demands.
You slip off your hill and tuck your leg under your butt, “Elaborate what? You’ve got a villain voice. Full stop.”
Sae looks at you, squinting because of the sun.
He doesn't talk much. When he does, it’s quiet, precise— debatable, debatable...— never a wasted syllable. You, on the other hand, seem to say every single thought that crosses your mind. And know that I keep most of it in my head ', you tell him sometimes. Which both fascinates and mildly worries him.
Anyway, let's go back to that little comment. “Don’t get me wrong. I love your voice—your Spanish, your cute little English accent, and your Japanese. But… it gives off villain energy.”
“If you try to bring up my way of communicating again, I—” you cut him off.
“Naaaaa. I just think your voice would suit this very specific type of villain. The one who set the ideals, you know? He was the moral compass. And one day life hits him with an existential crisis, and he realises humanity was the problem all along. And BIM! We go from ‘let's protect the weak speeches™ ’ to ‘guess I’ll commit a morally questionable genocide but make it philosophical. The kind people get way too attached to.” you ramble, like it makes perfect sense. “Was someone’s best friend, maybe even a rival at first. Bro just needs therapy.” you finish, scraping the bottom of the tub.
Sae’s phone screen goes dark in his hand. He blinks once, slowly. “…Did they spike your ice cream with rum again?”
“I'm not drunk!” a sigh, typical of the misunderstood, accompanies your protest. “Never mind.”
