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➜﹒⟡﹒Chapter VIII﹒˃̵ᴗ˂̵﹒
꒰08꒱﹒ ◖ They say newcomers have a certain smell, your trust issues not to mention, they say they can smell your intentions. ◗ ﹒⛓️💥﹒Heathens﹒Twenty One Pilots
Whispers and hushed murmurs were heard throughout the small room.
"What drug do y'all think it was?"
"Ketamine?"
"Wait— Nevermind, it was probably Rohypnol!"
"How the fuck would you know?"
Laying limp in Childe's arms, Y/n still seemed to be unconcious, how much longer will she be? Nobody knows..
The other harbingers were discussing amongst themselves what to do with her, although it was true that they wanted to keep her for themselves, they didn't wanna share.
"My dorm is bigger than the rest, so..." Childe tried to argue.
Signora just raised her eyebrow, "So what? You and the others can have a little sleep over then."
He rolled his eyes, "Well, what do you wanna do? It'll be secluded and private, no one will bother us there."
The two exchanged a knowing glance for a second before looking back at the rest, "We don't wanna get the police involved, do we?"
Columbina snorted, "Dottore would have to hide then." she retorted while the boy just scoffed, "Oh please, what's that supposed to mean?"
The group fell into silence again.
Coughing, Pantalone broke the awkward silence, "Moving on... Wouldn't it be a bit of a drive though?"
"Wait wait wait— what dorm are we talking about?" Sandrone stumbled with her words, confused.
Childe tapped his foot against the ground, "You know, THE dorm." he said nonchalantly.
Her lips curled into an 'O' and she just nodded understandingly.
Scaramouche spoke up, "It's our only option, we can't just leave her here." His voice seemed annoyed, "Besides, it'll be our only opportunity to have her..." he muttered under his breath.
