The Assassin and The Thief

Chapter 20

(Bakura's POV)

I groan and curl up on the bed, feeling myself yawn and my body shake in morning grogginess. I feel cold, alone, desolate until a strong, wide arm wraps around my back. I hum and bury into Melvin's chest as he pulls me closer, kissing my forehead as the crazy hair flicking around his shoulders like static tickles my chin. "Morning," Melvin smiles: I can feel his grin on my cheek. I just love being so close to him, he's warm and strong and fuck, I'm getting soft, I can't let myself lose my edge.

"Fuck mornings," I growl, rolling over and flicking on the coffee machine. We have one beside our bed, every morning we wake up slowly, sipping espresso and discussing random topics. "Morning is when you need to go to work. Can't you skip?"

"No," Melvin sighs. "We have advertising contracts,"

I huff. "I'll go trainspotting then," I decide. I'm not upset about that, and alone time allows me to clear my head that's congested by Melvin. He influences my every thought, attacks my judgement, supports my triumphs. Even when he isn't with me, and it's just in my head. Alone time lets me empty him from my brain, freedom to think my own thoughts. He kisses me once again and stands up, walking around and dressing in garments tossed carelessly onto the floor yesterday in passionate foreplay.

Standing on the platform in the underground in my trench coat I take down the numbers of the trains, numbers that blend together before my eyes. When I sigh in this metal chasm I can see steam rise from my mouth and dissipate into the hair. Checking my phone weather I realise why - it's 2 degrees in this damn place. Tugging my coat around my front I remember to pick up a scarf on my way out, texting Melvin to come and meet me.

When we meet snow has already begun to fall, and it's odd to see Melvin dressed for winter. The snowflakes settle in his spike of hair and I blow them off, watching them dance like fairies through the wind. "How was your day, dear?" He asks me, kissing my cheek and locking into my arm as we begin the walk home.

"I saw a fun locomotive?" I offer, but he doesn't know the meaning of the word and I don't feel like explaining it, so that's no good for a conversation. "And I got caught in the snow," I eventually chuckle.

"At least it doesn't show up on your hair," Melvin frowns, pulling his hood forward and squashing his hair under it. "I'm an assassin. I can't be seen with snow all over my hair!"

Now he mentions it, the snowfall has gotten worse in such a short time. From a light fluffy to a torrential blizzard, blanketing the streets and cars and umbrellas in white. I pull my own hood up, shivering a little under my wet hair. "Let's go somewhere to dry off!" Melvin decides. I stop at a place called Oaka.

"In here?!" I fall over the winds and I guess he agrees, dragging me inside.

(Melvin's POV)

I'm aglow with warmth, passing under the heating system and pulling my hood down as I enter the place, letting the snow on my cheeks thaw. This place is split between a shop and a street food joint, and we explore the shop first. "Oh they have those matcha stick cookie things you like," Bakura points out and I let my childlike wonder take over, grabbing the box and a Charmander soda! I mean it's just orange soda but he's so cute on the box.

Bakura and I sit at the window bench, watching the snowfall outside and grateful we took refuge in this place. I order chicken curry with rice to share between us and he sips a ginger tea. "Fuck, how do people use these with noodles?!" Bakura angrily demands of his chopsticks.

"You're doing okay, just - try bigger clumps first and we can work from there," I coach, seeing him actually make progress by picking up chunks of chicken, rice and vegetables.

"Easy for you to say, expert," he groans back at me, sticking a small portion in his mouth. "If anything, these are good for portion control,"

Rolling my eyes, I connect to the WiFi and search for literally anything that takes my curiosity. I find something immediately, because I know Bakura has this obsession with corgis. "Hey Bakura?"

"What?!" He demands irritably as food falls from between his chopsticks, one slipping too low on his fingers for him to grab with.

"Did you know a corgi's ass floats in water?"

"...what?"

I pull up the video of a corgi swimming, its butt floating to the surface acting like a rubber ring. "If I'm ever in a sinking ship don't throw me a ring. Throw me a corgi,"

"You might regret saying that," I smirk, leaning back smugly in my seat and crossing my arm. Bakura narrows his eyes, unimpressed and glaring at me.

"Why?"

I show him my phone screen, on which is a picture of our next target, wearing only blue board shorts that match his navy blue, crazy hair. "Mako Tsunami. He lives on his own cruise ship, what do you say, ready to escape Japan for a bit?"

Bakura grins. "What about your job?"

I shake my head, mirroring his smile as my hand slides over his. "This is my job. I'm an assassin, it's who I am. Are you convinced, will you come with me?"

Bakura rolls his eyes. "I was 'convinced' at 'lives on a cruise ship' you insecure idiot,"