Blood In The Water | Pillarmen x Fem!Reader

11| The Real Kars

At first, (Y/n) wasn't really sure she knew what she was looking at. It was this tall, wet thing, dripping with water that heaved soaked masses of hair towards the ground, sopping thickly. It stood right outside the hut, as if it was only just now approaching, with something clutched in its claws.

This was not anything, or even anyone, the marine would easily recognize. And for that it was justified that her hand met her knife, too quick for anyone to wonder when she'd grabbed it in the first place. 

The thing stopped where it walked. She thought of it as a thing, for even though it had the body of a man fit to carry the world on his shoulders, it was barren of face, sound, any qualities that would make its presence any less questionable.

One of its hands flew up to part the waterfall of hair shielding its head, and through the slip it made in the curtain, she found Kars.

His face twisted in this ugly, gross expression, and even in the shadow his heavy hair cast she could see that same, godawful pleading look.

"Why are you drenched?" She asks. "What the hell were you doing."

"Forgive me." He said, voice low and muddled. "I was hoping-- I was thinking you would want this."

Hiked onto his back was a natural firework of colors, the kinds you think of when you hear 'Tropical'. There was a sweet, tangy orange, a saccharine pink, specks of yellow sprinkled throughout like lilies in an open field. 

Kars hoisted the bundle off his back and took the burden to his hands, weighing it with both calloused palms as it to judge whether it was worthy himself, before allowing (Y/n) to consider whether it won her favor.

She's not quite sure where he found so many flowers. Through her many weeks on the island the few she'd found were simply birds of prey, and maybe a few wild ones scientists had yet to name. 

With a light scoff, something she didn't catch before it could leave her, she grabbed fistfuls of the bouquet and gripped them, so tightly, with so much built up aggression, she'd managed to snap most of the flowers necks. 

Kars watched as the petaled colors fell like flies. Each dropping to the ground with a dying thump against the grass, sitting by her nasty boots, a shot of life against that stained brown. 

"What was all this for. Do you just like wasting time and making messes?" She huffed. "You could've done something productive with the time you've spent wallowing in self pity."

"I was not simply picking flowers for the time I've left you, I was doing something worthwhile."

"I can only imagine."

"Really-- I understand if you don't like the flowers, those were just something to go along with this." 

"Spit it out."

For just a brief moment, the kind where it feels like both an eternity and an instant had passed at once, Kars hesitates. He seems to juggle the possibilities of what he's about to say, as if a matter of life and death, success and failure. "Can I try again?"

"Try what again." (Y/n) pauses, and finally picks up that nervous fidget of his, the slight tugging of his hair as he tries to make himself presentable, the bunching of his cloth. "Oh, you're kidding me."

"Just, one more time. Let me prove that I am the perfect person for you, and that it won't be a mistake to-"

For whatever rant he'd gone on about she didn't care. A hand came to her face as she sighed, ever so quietly, thinking, wondering. What will shut him up? And then, as if a whisper from the divine, an idea.