ninety-nine balloons (part 4 x fem!reader)

25- Open The Windows

My fic crying : it's been a year daddy :(( i really miss u :((((

Me writing about a silly little casino manager instead:

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It is dusk again. With no certain level of discerption you can no longer tell when it is day or not, you hold no trust in the light that spews in from the hallway, like a call to your name from a voice you do not know. 

Rohan is bolder today. He sits now, inside the very room you haunt, just opposite of you, hand loosely but securely holding the string to throw open the blinds should you try anything.

It matters not, for the little corner that has become home is much more comfortable than any space near that awful man, so he shouldn't have an ounce of worry.

"You should be happy," He spits. "Who knows what they would have done to you if they were here any longer."

"You don't give a damn about me." 

"I do, you're an important asset at the moment, and the possibilities of what i could do now are limitless. You are not something I could so easily sacrifice."

"Charming." You say.

"Believe it or don't, that is entirely up to you. But you will be here until I am done with you."

It was not long after that he'd left you again. In the light of the dark, your blood still leaks onto the floorboards, still moist with your spill. They have already begun to rotten.

Maybe it goes like this. A vampire is starved until they have no choice but to take blood from what they were built to take it from. They do not eat simply to eat or hunt for sport, they eat when they are hungry, and you are on that brink.

You can't even remember what Rohan wanted you for. What deal was it made that your soul must feel like an empty pit in your chest? What was gained for your heart to stop beating like this.

You consider, reaching for that sweet little string, flooding the room with burning rays and igniting the room into flames before you shatter into a sweep of dust. This time, you did not stop yourself.

You've thought before, oh, what sweet relief i would have. It's sat in your mind like a festering worm. The string itself seems to crawl near. All it takes is one pull. Just once and it's over with? Just a tug. 

Dead hands roll the cotton between index and thumb. They think, they consider, and as they pause it seems their mind is made up as they then begin to pull, slowly, till the string is pulled taught. Anymore of a tug, and its curtains.

You pull.

...

Okuyasu has sat there all day. His ass is numb, and the feeling in his legs have dissolved into static. His knuckles, rough and calloused as they have been from his delinquency, still managed to break skin and bleed a dry puddle.

The blinds were open in Rohans house, curtains drawn. Every window he could see, he could look right through.

Something about that, it was disturbing. Josuke was not that far behind on the idea something was amiss.

"It's as though hes showing his hands." He says with a spat. "Trying to say, look, I have nothing to hide."

Okuyasu doesn't say anything. His eyes are transfixed to the room he is convinced to have last seen his girlfriend in. The windows were open.