Maelstrom

Chapter 56

Ruse's POV

Dense forest surrounds you as you struggle to breath, chest heaving with anxiety and heart thumping wildly, straining your ears to hear if Mihawk was pursuing you.

You calm your breathing to an even level, no longer feeling quite as winded as you had before, but still feeling nervous and anxious as you try to pick up any noise aside from the fauna of the forest around you.

Silence greeting you in return.

Good, looks like he had decided to let you go this time, thank the gods above. With a grin you plop down where you had been observing prior, your body too tired to continue to trek through the wild undergrowth of the dense foliage around you.

Sleep now, worry later.

Good idea Ruse, thank you Ruse. You chuckle as you monologue internally, before you shove your arms underneath your head, a makeshift pillow of limbs as you get comfortable on the forest floor, leaves and twigs all around you as you sigh contentedly. It wouldn't be the first time you slept in a forest, nor the last.

With a tired chuckle you nestle into a more comfortable position, your golden eyes sliding shut as you smile softly.

Sleep sounded like a great idea.

---

Harsh streams of sunlight beat down on you as you groan tiredly, curling to your side as you tried to block out the light streaming down on you, unenthused about the reaping's of today you would be sowing.

A few more minutes passed as you grumble, trying to wriggle your way into a spot of shade, finding no solace. Another groan as you finally give in, laying flat on your back, allowing the sunlight to beat down on you as you begrudgingly accept your fate.

Today would be the day you would have to face Mihawk, you had escaped unscathed last night, but today was the day you would have to face the music. You were really not excited about that.

"If there's a god out there, you sure really like to throw me some hard cards don't ya? Pompous smug bastard." You growl as you lay in the forest clearing, not caring one way or another if there were a response to your taunting.

"Alright Ruse, you got this. You're a strong independent woman who can most definitely talk to Mihawk without fleeing for your life. You got this." Your voice is scratchy, a painful feeling in the back of your throat as you shout-whispered, dehydration from running through the forest and not taking care of your basic necessities most likely.

One. Two. Three.

After a mental countdown and a short-lived pep talk you spring up from your resting spot, stretching out your limbs as you groan.

"Alright Ruse. Let's go get 'em." And with that, you make your way to the mansion, praying that you would be granted parolee before your companion of dangerous blades decided to cut you down.

What better way to start the morning?

---

Walking into the dining hall, your mouth watered as you could smell the familiar scent of bacon and toast, salivating slightly before wiping the drool from your face discreetly. Mihawk had cooked breakfast, meaning there was hope for you! With a grin you bound into the dining hall, your golden eyes glimmering with anticipation of the warm meal being prepared in front of you.

Said swordsman was sitting at the dining table, a newspaper propped up, his usual mug of coffee and a plate of fresh-cooked breakfast in their usual placement. You couldn't see his face, but you knew Mihawk was likely not even reading the news coo delivery, likely he was observing you as you stood in the dining hall, a few feet from him, waiting to see what you would do.