| Plaything | Antisepticeye x Reader

Chapter 20

A 'thunk' sounds above me, and I feel something sharp graze my knuckles. They begin to bleed a bit. Removing my hands from my face and opening my eyes, I find the handle of the knife Anti was just holding. My gaze traces along its side and to the right, finding the rest of the knife lodged in the couch, inches from my face. I turn to look at Anti, who's moved closer, probably annoyed that I'm not giving him enough attention.

"Jesus. Could you not?" Exasperation surrounds my tone more than fear or pain.

"You're distracted," is all he says.

"I... didn't get enough sleep last night."

"Why? I didn't give you a nightmare."

"There are other things that can keep me awake at night, Anti," I yawn.

"Like what?" he pries. "What were you thinking about?"

"Well, aren't you just a little attention hog," I mumble. The instant the words exit my mouth, I regret them. In my fatigue, I hadn't paid attention to what I was saying, accidentally speaking my mind.

Anti's eyes faintly glow. "What'd you just say?"

I desperately try to deescalate the situation, waving my hands to dismiss the previous comment. "Nothing. I'm just tired."

Unfortunately, Anti takes a step forward. 

Fuckity.

"It was nothing, really."

I attempt to sit up, but Anti's hand shoots out and grabs the handle of his knife, nearly punching me in the face. I immediately flop onto my back. He moves forward and plants one knee on the opposite side of me, essentially straddling my legs. After ripping the knife out of the couch, he aims it at my throat.

"I'm tired, you shouldn't pay attention to what I'm saying." The scar across my neck still has nearly healed completely, and I don't want it reopened.

Though I try to keep my thoughts from a neck incision, I can't help but linger on the idea for a moment, just long enough for Anti to catch on.

"No, I want you to repeat what you said," he demands, leaning forward a bit.

I cringe and keep my lips sealed. The knife digs into the sensitive flesh where it had made an incision before, and I already feel sick with remembrance. If I repeat myself, he'll be validated and pissed. If I stay silent, I'll have disobeyed and he'll get pissed. If I lie, then he'll be really pissed.

Though I'm fine standing up to him when it's something important, I'm too tired right now to actually have an argument.

"I called you an attention hog," I finally admit, wincing when the knife presses deeper into my skin. "But I've done that before – it's not anything new."

Tilting his head to the side, Anti gazes at me in thought for a moment. "I guess you're right."

He removes the knife from my skin and leans forward so that I can't look at much besides him. Anti places a single cold finger under my chin and tilts my head back so he can have a better view of my scar. After setting the knife down next to himself, he uses his other hand's thumb to trace the line across my neck. It's reopened a bit, and is bleeding somewhat. Not as bad as it was before, but it's still seeping a bit of red. Distracted, Anti leans forward even more, having smeared the blood across my skin.

I can feel his icy breath on my cheeks. Suddenly, he snaps out of his odd trance, and his gaze slides from my throat to my eyes. While maintaining perfect eye contact, he roughly slides his thumb across the length of the scar again, applying a bit more pressure towards the end. I wince in pain, but I still look at him, worrying that he'll get angry if I don't. Then, with his face directly above mine, he glides his thumb across his tongue, giving me an opportunity to see my blood in his mouth.

A look of light disgust crosses my face as he does this, and he smiles. Anti grins and laughs, disappearing.

I sit up and rub my sore neck, grimacing at the image of my blood on his tongue and remembering the nightmare he'd given me where he did something similar. The feeling of the cold knife blade against my neck woke me up a bit. I make a small pot of coffee, adding two metric tons of creamer to get rid of the bitter taste. The coffee isn't as effective as the knew injury, but it helps a bit.

Afterwards, I head upstairs and put another smaller bandage on my neck, though the bleeding had stopped naturally. I go back downstairs and make myself a bowl of cereal, planning out my afternoon.

The movie will probably be a little over two hours, meaning that I should leave the house as late as possible to avoid getting caught outside too long. Instead of walking, I'll take an Uber to the theater at 3:55. I'll have been outside for 2 hours and 10 minutes when its done. Then, we'll probably get dinner, which will take another hour and a half, I guess. So that's 3 hours and 40 minutes.

I finally finish my estimations and decide that I'll be outside for a total of four hours, meaning that I have an hour of leeway in case of something unexpected.

God, I hope nothing goes wrong.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter of "Plaything" as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments and votes are super appreciated. Thanks for reading! ~Blue