| Plaything | Antisepticeye x Reader

Chapter 23

The next morning I get up earlier than usual and head downstairs, watching a YouTube video on my phone. It's a video with Mark, Jack, Bob, and Wade. I'm not really paying attention to it – it's mostly background noise, at the moment. After sitting down to eat breakfast, Anti appears in front of me. I raise a hand in greeting, not looking at him. His voice comes loud through my headphones:

"Why do you like him so much?"

I wince and pause the video, then take off the headphones. He looks down at me with all seriousness.

"I'm assuming you mean Jack," I say, rubbing my temples and shrugging. "He's funny, upbeat, nice... Just an attractive person, in general, I guess."

Anti smirks, sitting next to me on the couch and tilting his head to the side. "So you think I'm attractive?"

"I never said that. You have a whole different thing going on," I explain. "Your sense of humor is morbid and painful and only funny when I'm not the victim. You're only cheerful while torturing someone, and you're the exact opposite of nice. In fact, I'm pretty sure the only remotely nice thing you've done for me is kill Lukas and Arendt, and that was just an excuse for you to kill someone."

The demon still simpers, his smile growing wider. "You still haven't said you don't think I'm attractive."

Suddenly, Anti's tugged my arm towards him, pulling me onto him. My back rests in his lap and I stare up at him with a burning, surprised face. "You're absolutely adorable."

I scowl and attempt to sit up, but one of his arms locks over my torso, keeping me firmly in place. "Let go of me."

Anti looks at me for a moment, pretending to contemplate my "request". "No, I don't think I will."

"I wasn't asking."

"I wasn't kidding."

Sighing, I cross my arms and relent. I hadn't slept enough last night, so my eyes close as I sit still, but I refuse to fall asleep in Anti's lap, of all places. However, Anti notices my fatigue and increases it, making my mind slow down until I fall asleep.

When I open my eyes again, I've been shifted so that my head – instead of my back – rests in Anti's lap. I feel a pair of eyes boring into my face, and look up to find a heterochromia-eyed demon staring down at me. Glaring, I try to sit up again. Doesn't work.

"Would you please let go of me?"

Anti pouts. "But you look so cute when you sleep."

My cheeks begin to burn again, but I'm not sure if it's out of embarrassment or indignation – maybe both. Finally, Anti allows me to sit up and I quickly stand.

I had planned to go out during the morning, but it's significantly later now. The clock on the microwave says 8:39PM. Still, I leave the house. At least I'll get away from Anti, if nothing else.

After about two hours, I begin to head home. I stuff my hands into my pockets, head bent down against the light summer rain that falls from the sky. I've only walked five blocks from where the place I spent my afternoon before the sound of rushed footsteps approach me from behind. It's not unusual, but I'm the only other person on the street. 

I absentmindedly slide my thumb across the handle of the pocketknife Anti had given me. My body tenses as I pay acute attention to the proximity of the person splashing through the shallow puddles behind me.

Though it's sudden, it's not surprising when I feel a man grab my arms from behind. In one deft motion, I pull the knife from my pocket, flick it open, and quickly turn around. My outstretched arm slices through one of the mugger's arms, creating a deep gash. He curses and stumbles backwards, gripping his arm.

Still, I'm not finished with him. I take a step back and prepare to fly forward and stab him. Before I'm able to reach him, a blur of green passes before my eyes. Anti appears in front of me, grabbing the man by the collar.

"Don't fucking touch them," he growls.

A large knife rips through the man's torso, and Anti lets the body drop from his hand. I put down my arm, lowering the knife. Cocking an eyebrow, I say:

"How chivalrous."

"This was the agreement."

"It's not like I was really in danger. I had it under control."

"This was the agreement," he repeats, walking back over to me.

I lean against the brick wall next to me, letting the rain decorate my face. "I guess," is all I respond.

Anti looks over at me, staring. I watch the puddles on the ground, only looking up when his shadow suddenly looms over me. Burning eyes scan me for injuries.

"I'm fine," I shrug. "Just a bruise on my arm, probably."

"Should've made him suffer."

"Why? Because he injured me?"

Silence falls between us when he doesn't answer. I look off to the side, though Anti continues to stare at my face curiously. The rain continues to provide a soothing ambience to the neighborhood. My hair and clothes are drenched now, but I hardly notice. The water cleanses my knife, a steady pink drip falling from the tip that points toward the pavement. I hear Anti mumble something that kinda sounded like "fuck it".

A cold hand turns my head to look up at him, and I turn my attention back to Anti. Without warning, Anti presses his lips onto mine. I'm too shocked to do anything for a while, and by the time I process what's happened, he's already pulled away. Thin layers of snow seem to have landed on my lips.

Anti smirks at my burning face, wide eyes, and tensed muscles. Rain drenched his hair, as well, weighing it down so that it hangs over a part of his face, nearly covering his blue eye. The green eye is left unobscured and glows with mischief. His rough, slightly chapped lips curve into a lopsided smile, baring glinting canines.

Then, I blink and pine-colored smoke surrounds me, transporting me back to the house. Though my mind has finally processed his action, Anti's disappeared. I struggle to wrap my mind around the moment, but ultimately fail. Exhausted and confused, I go to bed, the feeling of snow still dusted across my lips.

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