[various!kny x reader]
For she is nothing but a weakling with a pretty face, often described as a mere walking 'doll' without a soul.
/Warning - might contain some dark themes/
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Moon, tell me if I could
Send up my heart to you?
So, when I die, which I must do
Could it shine down here with you?
☆
“[Name]? My sweetie, are you up?” The voice of your husband, Isamu, called out, tone melodious like that of a bird's chirps, as he pushed the curtains aside, letting streaks of sunlight invade your bedroom. Without any mercy, they tickled your skin and forced your slowly opening eyes to squint.
Where am I? You looked around, those scrutinizing eyes of yours observing your surroundings.
Oh right, I'm home..
“Good morning Isamu,” you greeted as you sat up and yawned, wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your nightwear to take the morning eye crust out. You stretched your back, hearing the satisfying cracking sounds as a small smile spread on your face.
“You sleepyhead. I've already prepared breakfast. Do you want to eat it in bed or will you push your lazy bum up and eat with me in the dining room?” He asked, his tone teasing as he walked up to you. You thought about it for a moment, before ultimately deciding on the latter. Reluctantly, you stood up.
“Good girl. Let's go eat now,” he said, taking a hold of your arm. You flinched and retracted your hand back. What did he just call you? It felt... repulsive to hear it come from his mouth.
His eyes narrowed at your reluctance, before his eyebrows furrowed in false worry. “Is there something wrong, my love?”
You scrunched up your forehead in confusion. Or was it disgust?
But why? Why did it feel disgusting to hear pet names come from your husband's mouth? He was the man you were married to. Your childhood best friend... The person you didn't harbor any romantic feelings for. But that wasn't right. You were already married, you shouldn't be acting up.
“No. Nothing's wrong,” you finally replied, fighting your resistance and taking his hand. “Let's go eat now.”
Even if you only liked him platonically, he wasn't a bad husband, right? He cooked for you, paid the bills, went to work while you could relax home and even... loved you. Despite everything, you still couldn't push yourself to call those feelings romantic. If you did, you would only end up lying to yourself.
“Alright.”
There was a thick silence which surrounded you both as you were having breakfast. You were only playing around with the fluffy pancakes he made. He probably found a new recipe and wanted you to try it. A nice gesture, but you couldn't bring yourself to eat; it just didn't look appetizing. You did feel bad for not taking a single bite though.
