Three [Eustass Kid × Reader]

Two

Three?

You don't answer him, just pull the coat closer to yourself. Kid sits down, still watching you. You can't imagine what's going on in his mind.

Your heart clenches a strange way as you look at his missing arm.

"What do you know that they want so bad?" he asks, leaning forward. His left eye twitches as the shackle tenses on his hand.

It must be frustrating him, even after this much time. At least I'm used to it.

"I'm not telling you anything," you answer silently, closing your eyes. You feel so hopelessly tired of opposing people, as you did almost your whole life.

At least once, you want to say the truth before it ends, but there are secrets, dreams to protect.

"You're wasting your time."

"Not like I'm so occupied at the moment," scoffs the man. His iris glows with an unreadable emotion you don't have time to understand. "You're the first person in weeks who doesn't annoy me, Three."

You freeze down, and he tsk-s.

"That much."

It makes you smile a little, so you hide it with the crimson feathers.

"How did you get here, Eustass Kid?"

"That's none of your business," he snaps annoyedly, and you shiver, turning to him.

He looks dangerous, but something else too, as you look in his eyes, ignoring the smirk that rarely leaves the painted lips.

"You're lost," you whisper. Kid's jaw drops slightly, then he shakes his head and starts laughing.

You flinch from the sudden loud voice but then cast down your gaze.

His laughter is honest and clear.

"You are an idiot, woman."

"I'm not," you shout back. "You shouldn't be here!"

"You have no fucking idea where I should be," he answers, his smile disappears as you raised your voice.

You lower it again not to enrage him.

"This country is poisoned," you whisper. "Bad people taking advantage of others, good people starving to death without a ray of hope. Nobody is where they're supposed to be."

"I'm not a 'good man', Three." smirk Kid. You thrill as he uses the name again.

It sounds silly and weird, but still the first name you own in many years. Maybe the only thing that belongs to you now.

"You don't seem to be," you agree, thinking back to the morning.

But as you touch his coat that keeps you from freezing, these words have a false tone. Humans are like a fissured shamisen. Injuries build up until it's hard to sound true.

"Then why 'lost'?"

"You look evil but free. Someone who should be free."

"You're blunt," he grins.

You turn away your gaze and rest it on the wall opposite you. A tiny, blue bug runs over the moss that covers the bricks.

"It doesn't matter what you think about me."

"We'll be locked up for a while, so you should care. They won't give a fuck if I kill you. Neither will I if you give a reason."

"I'll be executed as soon as they understand I won't talk," you answer.