The shower curtain ripped open with a loud sliding noise. You screamed, and covered your head with your arms.
"Who are you?!" He asked, bewildered. You squeezed open one eye.
The first thing you noticed was his hair. It was a dark brown color, and was swept in a quiff that stopped just past his eyebrow. Then it was his big nose and chin, and how cold his brown eyes seemed. He wore a suit in shades of purple, with a long mauve coat.
Despite his previously mentioned eyes, he didn't seem like a threat. His chest was puffed up like a ruffled bird, but his shoulders remained relaxed. He starred at you, surprised but also curious.
You straightened. "What's it to you?!"
He glared, and spoke in a grumpy, stingy voice. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm hiding."
"From what?"
"From you!"
"Me?" The idea seemed to annoy him.
"You're in my house!" With a start, you bit your tongue. Not only did you realize you had just exposed yourself, but it was also a lie. The house had been left to Connor, then to you if he didn't want it.
He blinked at you. He tucked away a strange wand-like device you hadn't noticed before inside his jacket.
"You're her, aren't you? The daughter of the people who died." He watched as you didn't protest, eyes dropping. "You're her," he repeated.
"So?" You folded your arms over your chest.
He went to speak, but stopped himself. He tried again. "Sorry about your parents."
"Why are you sorry?"
"I'm always sorry when people die." Again, his voice was so cold, so distant and stingy. But he also seemed so genuine.
He turned away and started out of the bathroom. You clamored after him, feeling your anger bubble up in your throat.
"What are you doing here? Who even are you?"
You caught up with him in your parents' room, almost slamming into his back. He stared at the blank wall.
"Boring question. Here's a better one." He paused, just for dramatic effect, it seemed. "Who killed your parents?"
Your gaze narrowed, crossing your arms again. "Some would say no one killed them."
"And you?"
You feigned a shrug, and spoke with venom. "What do you care?"
"Well, any idea who killed them?"
"Did you?"
He turned to look at you. "No." His voice was smooth, and his gaze intense. You weren't sure why, but you believed him. You softened.
"You stole the evidence... didn't you?"
He turned back to the wall. "Yes."
YOU ARE READING
Dance with the Devil | 11 X Reader
Fanfiction| - Summary - | Keeping your temper has always been a challenge. Once you pass your threshold, you can't stop yourself. You yell, you throw things, you say things you don't mean. But it comes especially easy when someone messes with your family. So...
