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My prince: I can do whatever I want, actually.

My Parasite: No. Not with me.

My prince: Who exactly is going to stop me? You?

My Parasite: If necessary.

My Parasite: Answer one thing truthfully and I’ll leave you alone for tonight.

My prince: That sounds fake already.

My Parasite: Did you miss me?

My prince: No.

My Parasite: Lie better.

My prince: Die better.

I haven’t seen him in a while.

A few days, which in normal human terms means nothing, but in whatever damaged little ecosystem has formed between me and Kento, it feels long enough to become a problem.

Actually, I have three problems.

One: my brother has made it very fucking clear that he wants me to stay away from Kento. He’s been in a mood all week, and I’ve barely been home because apparently dragging me to his little hideout and making me torture people wasn’t enough. He decided I needed to be reminded what happens when I piss him off. I’m not going into details because I’d like to keep whatever scraps of dignity I have left, but let’s just say I’m exhausted, bruised more than normally, and very much not interested in volunteering for a fucking sequel. Especially not if he catches me with Kento. Knowing him, he’d find an even more miserable way to make his point.

Problem two is that Kento saw me.

During that, whatever that was. The thing I refuse to call a panic attack and also can’t call anything else. He watched it happen from beginning to end, and I don’t understand why he even tries to message me. He should run the other way by now.

Problem three is equally important and possibly more humiliating.

I let him finger my ass.

Three of his fingers. Inside of me. I have not stopped thinking about it since it happened. And the worst part is that I liked it. I liked it a lot. I would like a redo. I would like several redos.

Anyway, the best course of action is to avoid him.

And I guess it works, because he doesn’t answer after that.

I stare at the screen for a few seconds longer than necessary, like maybe another message will appear just to annoy me properly, but nothing comes. I sigh and put my phone away.

Probably for the best.

Because if I’m around him too much, I’m starting to think he’ll look too closely. Kento has this deeply irritating habit of noticing things I don’t want noticed, and if he keeps looking into my shit, he’s going to find things he isn’t supposed to.

Things I don’t even let myself look at directly.

So maybe ignoring him is the only reasonable choice I’ve made in weeks.

That sounds good in theory.

In practice, all it does is make the quiet louder.

Because now that the messages have stopped, I’m left alone with my own head, and that is historically where all the worst things happen. The memory of his hands. The memory of his voice. The way he goes dark and possessive and too observant all at once. The way he can say one simple thing and make it feel like he’s pressing his thumb directly into the weakest part of me.

I hate how easily he gets under my skin.