After recent events, I ended up going back to the beginning to check things, because my first reaction will always be "wtf, this is shit, why would you do this" and my second reaction will always be "okay maybe that was a bit much, maybe he's not THAT bad, maybe has a good reason-
Okay.. that doesn't rly mean anything, maybe she's just worried kaito found something he shouldn't-
Okay.. okay this looks, well maybe he's just leaving some recordings in case kaito found something he shouldn't! It's not like they can hide it forever! The room is part of the house! Kaito lives in the house-
Excuse me... What did .. what did you say...? Wha
What do you mean "designed"?
What??? What do you MEAN "designed to open after 8 years"???
I have been angry since April 12th and I've reached a point where I don't even know what to feel anymore I don't even know what to tell y'all.
Like, wow, omg, movie reveals. Other than family relations, the other thing isn't exactly anything new. We've all read Midnight Crow. We saw Kaitou Corbaeu. We've been in denial until finally reaching acceptance. For me at least. And then we spend a few years bargaining, bc surely there's a good reason kaitos not in the know. That kaito has to be KID. Surely there's a reason? Right?
Right???
At this point we don't even truly know if Jii is in the know and was acting as planned out by the parents or not. Or if he's just like kaito. Tricked, lied to, played for fools. At the very least ginzo doesn't know, so there's that. Not sure how much that would help kaito when he inevitably finds out. Because he will. The fact remains that it's quite suspicious that Jii just so happen to choose to don the KID outfit and become KID to draw out toichis murderers exactly 8 years after toichis death. EXACTLY the same amount of time that was set for that trap door portrait to open to kaito.
There's a lot of implications to think about
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Jerseys vs. Hoodies - Part 5
| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 971 | Part 4 is here |
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Evan breathes in deeply. “Bee…” he says slowly, “I should probably tell you something first.”
Barty looks confused at the shift in tone, but he sits up straighter in order to listen anyways.
“Okay,” he says, and Evan’s never been more terrified in his life.
His next words come out shaky. “We’ll always be friends, right? No matter what happens?”
Barty frowns. “Of course. But Evs, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”
His concern is enough to cause Evan to close his eyes as if he can block out all the bad by the performing the simple gesture. But when he opens them again, the fear and apprehension is still there.
“No,” he says, and it’s the most truthful thing he’s said in a while. “Bee, d’you know when you came to me that first night, and you kissed me, and I kissed you back without hesitation? Do you remember that?”
“…yeah?” Barty says slowly.
“Do you ever wonder why I didn’t question it, never even took a second to ask you why you were doing it?”
He doesn’t give Barty a chance to answer, staring at the table instead of looking at Barty as he continues, “It was because I didn’t want you to stop. I just wanted you to keep kissing me, no matter the cost, no matter your reasons behind it. For that minute I let myself enjoy kissing you, the feeling of having you kiss me, because I had wanted it for so long. And yeah, it hurt afterwards when you said that it didn’t mean anything. But I said “fine” and “okay” because that’s more than I ever thought I would get from you, and I was thankful for that tiny little scrap even if it “didn’t mean anything.” And then you came back, and again I took the scraps. And again, and again, until we had this little arrangement and I wasn’t worried anymore that every time we ever did something, it would be the last time.”
Tears are starting to blur his vision, and he refuses to look over at Barty, who remains silent.
He chokes out the next sentence. “But it hurt every time you reminded me it meant nothing, until eventually I couldn’t keep all of this to myself. So I told Pandora about it. And that helped a little, but soon after Reg started to get suspicious and confronted me about it, and I was so incredibly tired and I told him just about everything. So yeah, he knows, and yeah, that’s what he meant when he said “everything going on” between us. Which I guess makes it a low blow, but,” he laughs humorlessly, “nothing lower than I’ve been dealing with recently.”
He doesn’t look at Barty. He can’t look at Barty, can’t bear to see his expression as silence fills the space in between them.
“Evan,” Barty says, and that’s when Evan knows it’s going to be bad. Not “Evs” or “Evie” or even “Rosie.” Just “Evan.”
He tries not to let the tears fall, but it’s a struggle as he simultaneously tries to keep Barty from noticing his watery eyes.
“Evan,” Barty says again, “look at me.”
“No.”
“Evs,” Barty pleads.
Evs, Evan thinks. He said “Evs.” Not “Evan.”
So Evan turns towards Barty. He wipes his eyes in an effort to get rid of any traces of his tears, but it’s evident that he didn’t do a good enough job as Barty’s face softens as soon as he takes him in.
“I’m so sorry, Evie,” Barty says, reaching out a hand and pulling Evan into his chest.
It’s a nice gesture, so sweet that Evan can’t stop himself from collapsing into Barty, despite the fact that he knows Barty’s just trying to soften the blow that’s bound to come.
Here comes the rejection, Evan thinks, but still clutches on all the tighter to Barty’s sweatshirt. Maybe if he can hold on tight enough, Barty won’t go.
“I’m so, so sorry I made you feel that way,” Barty whispers, and his hand makes its way to Evan’s head and winds into his hair. Evan closes his eyes tightly, wanting to stay here in this moment before everything comes crashing down around him.
“I never meant to do that to you,” Barty continues. “That was never my intention at all.”
He pauses, as if contemplating whether or not to say something.
“Do you know why I kissed you in the first place?” he asks. Unlike Evan, he waits for a response.
“No,” Evan mumbles against Barty’s torso.
“Well, I don’t know if you remember, but I was slightly tipsy.”
Evan remembers. Of course he does.
“I saw you sitting there on your bed, and thought, “Merlin, he’s so beautiful.” And you wanna know something? It wasn’t the first time that I had had that thought. Not even close. I just hadn’t acted on it, because… well, you’re my best friend, and I didn’t want to mess that up. But I guess the alcohol had gone straight to my brain, because I couldn’t stop myself from walking up to you and simply kissing you.”
“And I’m not proud of what I did afterwards, when I finally started thinking clearly again and panicked about you hating me because of what I had done. I told you that it didn’t have to mean anything. And if I could somehow go back in time and take that back, I’d do it in a heartbeat, consequences be damned. Because I really had wanted it to mean something. I still want it to mean something. I just didn’t think that you would want the same thing, so I never said anything.”
“But,” he says softly, his hand sliding out of Evan’s hair to cup his face and turn his gaze upward, “I’m saying something now.”
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(The sixth and final part will come out sometime this week) (Hopefully)
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