strangled

³⁷a deal or a negotiation

BACK TO ORIGINAL POINT OF VIEW

"Dabi what the hell? Why did you walk off like that?" You ask.

You had to leave the club and walk around the entire neighborhood until you found your partner sitting on a bench by the beach, a spot twenty minutes away from the club and the same beach where you first met him. His back is facing you, a cigarette in between his middle and pointer finger that has light smoke coming from the end. He's man-spreading, like always, his forearms resting on his thighs and his eyes seem to be focused on nothing but the sea of blue in front of him.

Unbeknownst to you, he isn't staring at the sea. His eyes are shut tight as he tries to calm the quaking emotions inside of him.

It was just supposed to be a simple dance. A simple fucking dance. Why is his body all tingly and why does his heart feel so sappy?

It's fucking disgusting.

Most of all, why did you say dancing with him was a mistake?

Why did those words hurt so much?

He's falling too deep into this sickening feeling he gets when he's around you. It's giving him a sense of drowning when your body is near his. Suffocating in a substance he can't see, only feel. He had to walk out of the ballroom because that weird emotion inside him made him start to feel as though he couldn't inhale air, literally being strangled by an emotion he's never experienced before. Not with his own parents or siblings.

Is it... what's that stupid feeling called again...?

Love?

I... love her?

No there's no way.

His body had became rigid at the sound of your voice. You see the way the muscles in his back clench and the way his breathing stopped. You inch your way closer to him until you're standing right behind his back. Slowly, unsure whether or not the movement will make him mad, you put your hands on his shoulders in a way that you hope will calm him down.

A trembling breath leaves him. His criminal persona is fading away too quickly.

"Stop-stop that. Don't touch me."

"What is going on with you?" You ask with a softer tone, keeping your hands on him. "If you don't want to talk about it then I won't force you to. But I want to know why you walked out."

He grits his teeth. "And what if I refuse to tell you until he leaves and no longer wants to do the meeting? Then you'd leave right? Cause you should care about the meeting more than my stupid feelings-"

You shrug, "I guess I don't care about the meeting that much if I know I'd choose to listen to your feelings all night instead of talking to Kami. If you aren't feeling well, that's more important than a stupid meeting. You don't honestly expect me to leave you out here by yourself and care about a mission more than you, do you?"

"Dammit why do you keep doing that?" He growls, "Why do you keep making me feel so fucking weak?"

Your eyebrows furrow, "What? How?"

He doesn't answer, deciding to angrily put the cigarette to his lips so he can pull another puff of smoke. You watch as the smoke rises into the air. He lets out a small cough before putting the cigarette back to his lips.