Missing Aura of HOMRA ( K Project - Mikoto Suoh x OC )

Chapter Nine - Freedom

Her soft lips part, allowing a small moan to creep out of them. His lips rough as they trace her collarbone. "I can feel your heartbeat... Mikot-uh..."  

"Just give me what I want, and I'll release you." The voice so soft, yet demanding, the fingertip running along the bone of my nose and stopping at the end without removing it. "Come'on sweetheart... I wanna see your Talvases..."

Talvases? He dares mention them at a time like this!?  Bastard!

"I provide nothing for those who dare lay a finger on me." I hiss in reply, only to muffle curses and pure hatred when a firm band of material is slung around my mouth. My eyes catching the slithering brown mark slicing his neck in an emblem that vanished into his tight top.

His eyes suddenly blare with anger, finger lifting off my nose only to firmly flick it, receiving a twitch in reply. The pain mild - but mainly annoyance and confusion linger. "Alert Kaval! We're doing this the hard way!"

The morning is new, and the light is something I've come to love, despite its annoying feature of peering through the curtains during its sunrise.  Silence corrupting the air and indicating no-one within Homra is awake during the early morning time of day.

Maybe that's just my awful hearing playing with me. I've regained some... yet not much. Lip reading still isn't coming naturally...

My body on its side as it's the only long-term sleeping position that doesn't ache my body, the raven silk sheets pooling around my waist as I pull my body up and stretch, shoulders and spine cracking. Twisting to allow my feet to touch the wooden floorboards.

It's been rough... These past few months. Captive for years, and I haven't once been allowed to go outside since my freedom came and pulled me into its arms.

My tastebuds are bland, hearing nothing but whispers, eyes that blur and become disorientated and as much feeling in my fingertips as a blade of grass.

Shaking my head to rid of the thoughts, I stand up, using the bedposts for support, my cast making half my body taller than the other side.The clothes still baggy and loose, hiding almost every inch of me. 

It doesn't feel normal.

Entering the small joint bathroom, the mirror gleams my reflection in detest. The gag marks faded, but lines still denting my cheekbones. The fingerprints corrupting my neck present still and the makeshift barrier I've learnt to build over the years is now almost non-existent. 

There's no need for that barrier anymore...

Mikoto's fingers can grace me as much as he likes.

These months... Have been nothing but pressure. Those faces, the faces of the people who dared lay a finger on me have been burned into my mind.

I know my target.

No one messes with a member of Homra. 

No one messes with the Orange King.

Mikoto knows my desire to burn it all, despite the lack of fire that runs through my veins. But he knows.

My king will fight for me, burn for me, rupture them for me.

Six years captive, someone will pay.

Leaving the bathroom, rubbing my temples, the sudden whisper doesn't shock me. "Where are you going?" I knew Mikoto was awake the moment I shifted in bed. He's always been like that - no matter how many times he falls asleep or looks it, its' nothing but light.