Little Butterfly | Laito x Reader

19 ; ι яємємвєя

❀ the old familiar sting

laito's p o v

The things I reconsidered and threw away when she died were still there.

The lust was not there, and was never there as much as I thought it was. It felt right letting my mother give her love to me, and to let her touch my body in indecent places as I was pressured to roam hers.

I was protecting beings that were close to me, but over time those beings did not protect me. Over time I forgot the deep connection I felt for them.

Over time I stopped caring.

Over time we grew apart.

I didn't want this anymore. I never wanted it.

Yet, I didn't want to let it go.

The feelings of pleasure is the only way I felt mother's love. I was never the one to suggest our sinful acts. Younger, it was out of punishment because father did not come home. He was never home. So every night I was played with. Older, it was a routine.

I hated the sweat. The smell was always too strong.

I guess I hated it because it's a reminder that she's alive?

After, I would kick my arms and legs until I was blue in the face. I would scream at the top of my lungs, until my voice was raspy and pained like the sound that came out of Kanato's mouth—when we crossed paths through the doorway of mother's bedroom when we were only so little.

"The darker the night the sweeter the song." her voice was much higher, breathier than usual. She's having those feelings again.

I remember his face. He was retreating his voice from the depths of a song, only one song that he sung for the adults. He sung the song for hours, a whole day if it meant something to her. Sometimes it would be a sunny afternoon, sometimes it would be when the stars were a choir. The expression of pure love fluttered from his porcelain and tired face.

The only thing that would scare off the sight of a mortal would be his mouth—the blood that oozed down his lips and steamed to the point of his chin. The blood stained his vest. 'But he just washed it' I thought.

He smiled at me like everything was okay. His Teddy was silent in his arms like he always was, I always thought it was strange that he never talked to me. Kanato struggled for words, only spouts of blood came out as he tried to choke out a sentence. I smiled too.

Only thin strips of blood ran down his chin, but I knew what he was instructed to say. "Mother needs you," Was what he would say on days his vocal cords were not impaired.

'He looks so happy. So I'm happy too.' I was overwhelmed with sad feelings, but I was doing something good, of course.

I watched him amble down the hallway, he looked very tiny, regarding he was hugging teddy tighter than he originally would.

My eyes averted back to her bedroom door. My right hand slid up to my chest and clutched around my green shirt; which mother always described as olive. I felt warm tears trickle and run down my white knuckles, wetting my shirt.