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DO WHATEVER
YOUR SOUL
DESIRES
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The image of Manami's smiling face troubled Denji's heart to no end. Her smiles are warm, as if it held heat that could transfer onto his cheeks without physical contact. He liked it best when she smiled abashedly at him, especially when there wasn't any animosity in her eyes; it made his skin burn with affection. His cheeks flowed pink just at the thought of it, and he muffled a groan into his bedsheets.
He didn't know her, and she didn't know of him. Their friendship, (if you just call it) was simply just a 'you smile, i nod back' type of relationship, like the ones you have with strangers you see in school. The only difference lies in the fact that they do live together, and Denji wants to talk to her, like how he sees Aki Hayakawa and Shichiro Miyoshi does, but he can't.
Manami constantly acts like the world is out to get her, there has never been a moment where she allowed herself peace. Denji didn't like how she's always on edge, like she's stuck in a glass box as the world watches her movements quietly, carefully.
But he didn't mind it. Though she was always making sure the small items and things in their shared apartment were still in tact, it made her more appealing to him. Ever since meeting Makima and Manami, Denji thought that his future with women would be a bright one, filled with multiple possibilities for him. But he didn't expect Manami to be very difficult, so he opted to admire her silently from afar.
Even then, just getting a measly smile from her was enough to colour his cheeks pink.
"Good morning, Denji." She greeted, smiling quietly to herself from the dining table.
His cheeks exploded in colour. She's wearing a skirt! he observed, watching her sort out paper into their respective files, her crossed legs bouncing absentmindedly.
Denji felt his soul leave his body. "Good morning." He almost stuttered out nervously. The chainsaw boy walked around her seated figure in front of the dining table, his heart pounding in his ears as he stepped into the kitchen area to make toast.
"Makima's calling us in for a job." She informed cooly, swiftly changing the awkward atmosphere that threatened to suffocate them. "She wants you to follow Aki. I'll be meeting up with both of you later on, so please don't make too big of a mess. I don't want dirt and blood in my car." Manami spoke lightheartedly.
Denji nodded inaudibly. His skin was melting like nectarine under her watching gaze, as if her eyes could pinpoint each exact movements he muscles in his body were making. He didn't know if he liked it, but he could feel the suspicion in her gaze. Though, that didn't stop her from smiling warmly at him, it still made him feel bad.
He wanted to speak to her about it, but he didn't know where to begin. How could he, someone so lowly, speak to someone like her? Manami and Makima were alike in that sense, they were both beautiful and unattainable. The only difference is, Makima's the one that actually tries with him. All Denji gets from Manami are empty smiles and calculating stares — not that it was bad, because it still made his heart leap every time she looks at him.
Maybe he's like this because of the fact that they are living together. He, a man who has never spoken to a woman as beautiful as her (minus Makima), had the opportunity to live, sleep, and breathe in the same area as she.
