Crowned

Arc 1, Chapter 13: Run from Fate.

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Taco heard the door creak open. "Mic—?!" She asked holding the gun out towards the door. Her eyes still obscured—she was unable to see whom entered. The gun, despite her best efforts, trembled lightly in her grip. A small rattle echoed from its handle.

"Not quite..." broke through the air, the blatant huff of an angry voice from across the room. The one Taco recognized as Knife.

Taco's tension eased slightly, but she abstained from letting her guard down. "Shut the door..." She growled, as she lowered the gun, yet still had a tight grip on it. It betrayed her nerves. Her fear.
Knife likely would do nothing to her, however, she was weighed down by thick unease despite it.

"I know..." Knife shut the door, his hand left the knob with less hostility than he knew he should've carried. He was upset at being told what to do, but didn't vocalize it. "I—"

"—Came to lecture me?" Taco answered. She'd expected something like that, admittedly. Arguable, a few threats and perhaps a couple of stern words had been better than death. So she would sit through it if it meant Knife kept from telling OJ, she'd bear through his ranting.
"How mature of you. But I'd hope you've left your barbarism upon the head of your bed from which you hit this morning."

"You could say that." Knife snarled, upset he was interrupted. He'd crossed his arms, but Taco couldn't see that.

She sighed with a dramatic undertones that portrayed her reluctance to engage, "How mature of you. But I'd hope you've left your barbarism upon the head of your bed from which you hit this morning."

"I know you. I know what you're trying to get at... And I swear, if you EVER hurt anyone here, I'll rip you in half MYSELF." Knife quickly stated, shutting down her sass.

Taco scoffed at his threat. "You know you don't scare me right?" Falsehood sealed within a boastful chuckle. He'd go away soon. "I know you only give a shit about Pickle..." Taco growled, her eyes flared with anger, but couldn't be seen.
"I have no interest in harming anyone."

"Don't— DON'T bring Pickle into this... I am here about Mic."

"Oh? So you admit you care for her too? How adorable. While I appreciate the shared concern we have for her, you do realize its relevance in the fact I have NO intent to harm her... So why don't you run along, now..."

"I don't think you're in the position to be demanding things..." Knife spat, teeth bared.

"Oh? And what will you do about it?!" Taco stood up.
Knife, angered by the sudden aggressive display, he clenched his fists tightly. He grabbed where Taco's throat area was just beneath her mouth. It drew a gasp from her throat, to which she struggled subtly in an instant. She'd not expected Knife to put hands on her, but she would not reciprocate such violence. Yet.

"Listen here... I meant what I said. If you keep down this road of deceit and treachery—I can and WILL see it through your next residence is the bottom of the ocean." Malice dripped from each crevice beneath his piercing gaze.

"We both know you won't." Taco chuckled with a brief labour in her breath.

Knife clenched his free hand and raised his fist.
"YOU."