VENOM'S POV
"DEMOOOOOON!!"
*Swish*
Before I could finish my outburst, She landed right in front of me, nearly falling over if I hadn’t grabbed her by the arm. Ugh, she reeks of blood.
"The sun hasn’t even risen yet and you’re already killing?" I asked, slightly pushing her away to escape the stench clinging to her clothes.
"But I’m bored," she replied with a casual shrug.
"Killing is not the solution," I retorted, exasperation lacing my voice.
"No, it is," she countered with a mischievous grin.
I rolled my eyes, realizing that arguing with her was a lost cause. She never admits defeat, and I’ve learned that it’s better to just save my breath. Instead, I turned away from her and walked over to a box, rummaging through it until I found what I was looking for. I tossed it to her without a second thought.
It was a dark hooded cloak, the kind worn by grim reapers in those old TV shows. I’d seen it and figured it would suit her somehow, so I’d adjusted a few parts to match her taste.
"It’s beautiful!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she immediately began undressing right in front of me.
Oh, god, grant me more patience.
*Swish*
A sudden gust of wind blew through, carrying with it the scent of blood—not from her earlier spree, but from the north. Something was definitely going on over there. I could feel the weight of it in the air, like a storm brewing on the horizon.
"How do I look?" she asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I turned to face her, and for a moment, I was taken aback. Her black hair had turned stark white.
"I’m just wearing a wig," she explained, noticing my stunned expression.
It took me a second to realize it was fake. Damn it, I was almost convinced she’d gone full ethereal or something. She’d bewitched me again, just like always.
"Why white? It’ll show bloodstains easily," I pointed out, trying to regain some composure.
"Oh, do you know Gojo Satoru? The honored one? I want to be like him," she said with a playful smirk.
I couldn’t help but groan. "Of course, you’d want to be a fictional character."
"Why not? He’s practically untouchable. Plus, he looks fabulous in white," she shot back, twirling in her new cloak like she was on some runway.
"You’re not Gojo Satoru, you’re a mess," I said, unable to resist throwing a jab at her.
"And yet, here you are, dressing me up like your personal action figure," she teased, sticking her tongue out at me.
I sighed dramatically, putting a hand over my heart as if she’d wounded me. "I’m not dressing you up. I’m trying to make sure you don’t look like a disaster."
"And I appreciate it, truly," she said with a mockingly sweet tone, fluttering her eyelashes.
I huffed, turning my back on her theatrics. "You’re impossible."
"Impossible? Me? Oh, Venom, you wound me," She replied, dramatically placing a hand over her heart and fluttering her eyelashes as if she were some damsel in distress.
