The Razor's Edge [[Feitan x Reader]]

24: The Room

   The rest of the day went about how that morning had, with Phinks pouting and giving me the cold shoulder because I'd refused to answer his questions, and Feitan continuing to tease me about the previous night every time he had me pinned beneath him in our training sessions. I thought I'd finally be able to catch a break when I turned in for the night, climbing into bed and fading into dreamless sleep. However, this was hardly the case.

   Since the door to my bedroom was still hanging off of its hinges—courtesy of Phinks—Feitan decided that it would be best for me to sleep in his room. . . in his bed.

   Without him, of course.

   While his bed was quite comfortable, I couldn't get past the overwhelming scent of, well, him. I couldn't stand it. I had resigned myself to strict avoidance and now I was wrapped up in his sheets, forced to breathe him in. It was torture. He had to have known what this was doing to me, that sadistic bastard.

   When I'd given up on sleep, I opened up the windows and sat cross-legged on the floor, staring up at the sky. The curtains gently reached past me into the night. It was the first time in a long time that I'd wondered if my parents were somewhere staring at the same moon.

   I imagined maybe they weren't dead, and they weren't drug addicts, or wanted criminals, or any of the other lies I'd been fed growing up. I liked to imagine that we'd been separated somehow and that maybe they really did want me back, but just hadn't found me yet. That maybe they were staring at the moon and thinking of me, too.

   I found it sort of funny. Even in my fantasies, we weren't together. Maybe it was just enough for me to be wanted.

   I felt sleep weighing on my eyes and rested my head in my hands on the window sill—knowing damn well that I'd just keep tossing and turning if I got back in bed. I had nearly drifted off when I saw something move behind one of the trees outside of the base. My head shot up, suddenly on high alert. I craned my neck to get a better look and realized that what I'd seen was a person moving beyond the cover of the shadows.

   It was him. It was Akira.

   I got up and bolted out of the room and down the stairs toward the backyard. I had to face him. I had to do it alone. No matter how strong any of the phantom troupe members were, Akira was relentless. They shouldn't have to die for me.

   He was sitting at the picnic table, waiting. His features were the same as when I'd seen him last—carefully styled blond hair, dark, empty eyes, and a curled smile.

   "Y/n, you're standing before me at last. I was worried you might've forced me to go through your little friends first. It would've been such a waste. You're the only one that I want, after all."

   He gestured to the seat across from him. Akira liked to pretend that he was well-mannered and civil. To refuse to sit would've only angered him, so I obeyed against my better judgement.

   "What are you doing here?" I asked.

   "I came to bring you home, of course. What a dreadfully annoying goose chase you sent me on. But the reward will be well worth it."

   The chill of the night air was nothing compared to his carefully balanced tone. I shuddered, knowing that his 'reward' involved my prolonged suffering. "I'm not going back with you."

   "No?" It wasn't a question. It was a challenge.

   "No. I'll never be yours."

   He jutted his bottom lip into a pout. "Oh, darling, don't be like that. I don't want to hurt you."

   "Then don't," I hissed.

   "I wish it were that simple, but you know how I get when I'm upset."

   A heavy tension hung between us as we anticipated the other's next move. I was waiting for him to pounce. He was waiting for me to run. He always loved a chase. He loved the look in my eyes when he finally caught me—the helplessness of realizing that I'd never escape him.

   When I could no longer stand the waiting, I made the first move. I turned to run from the picnic table. I made it maybe five steps before he pulled me backwards, sending me flying back toward the ground, where my head hit with a loud crack that rattled my ear drums and forced my eyes shut.

   But when I opened them again, Akira wasn't standing over me as I'd expected. I wasn't even outside. I was staring, once again, at the ceiling of Feitan's bedroom.

   It was a dream? But it felt so real.

   There was a loud knock at the door. "Y/n?" Feitan called. His voice almost sounded concerned? I apparently didn't answer fast enough because the door to his bedroom suddenly flew open and he raced over to me. "You okay? Heard a loud thud."

   "I'm fine," I assured him, sitting up. "I just accidentally fell asleep sitting by the window and ended up falling over I guess."

   He frowned. "By the window? Why not in bed?"

   I shrugged. "I just couldn't relax. I thought maybe some air would help."

   "Well, now that you are relaxed you should use the bed. Gave it up so that you would be more comfortable and you aren't even using it."

   "Honestly, I don't know that i'll be able to sleep now." After having that dream, I was worried more than before about how close Akira might be. It felt like it was only a matter of time before it came to fruition—before he found me and dragged me back to hell.

   Feitan could sense my unease. "He will not get past us, will not hurt you again. I will make sure of it."

   I couldn't look at him. I hated when he made me feel weak, but more than anything else, I hated when he made me feel pitied. It was like he saw me as some pathetic little kid who needed protecting.

   "Can stay. . . if you need."

   "Stay?" I echoed, as if the word didn't make sense to me. Really, I was shocked he'd even offered.

   "Yes. Maybe you could sleep, then."

   My stupid heart fluttered again, not bothering to be offended by this suggestion that I was too scared to be alone. "And where would you sleep?"

   "Wouldn't." He nodded his head toward the chair in the corner of the room. "Will keep watch."

   "Don't be ridiculous. You need sleep just as much as I do. Besides, keeping watch seems a little paranoid, doesn't it?"

   "Want me to leave, then?"

   I never said that. . .

   He rolled his eyes when I didn't answer. "Will sleep in the chair."

   "Or—" I opened my big mouth before thinking, "we could share the bed."

   I braced myself for more of his teasing. All day he'd been acting so fucking smug. Instead, he seemed flustered. "No. Not a good idea. Not big enough."

   I couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corners of my mouth. Had the tables suddenly turned? "What, you don't wanna be too close to me? You didn't seem to have an issue with it earlier when you had me pinned to the ground."

   "That was different," he said, not meeting my eyes.

   "Alright, fine." I climbed into bed. "I don't care what you do. Go or stay, sleep or don't, it doesn't matter to me."

   I rolled over so that I was facing away from him and pulled the covers up to my shoulders. It wasn't long before I heard the sound of a chair lightly dragging across the floor boards. Curiosity got the best of me and I lifted my head to see Feitan sitting by the window, watching the yard below.

   I hated to admit it, but his presence did make me feel a bit more at-ease. I settled back against the pillow and waited for sleep to wash over me again.