Rk900 One-Shots

loathe

She fidgeted with the loose cuffs, shoving a hairpin in the lock, even though she had no clue how to lock pick. It was just mindless tweaking, sometimes even missing the lock as tears blurred her vision. This was the last thing she wanted, but she knew it was coming. Being a suspect in a serial murdering. Her serial murdering.

A single tear slid down her face, did they think she was faking it? Was she answering the questions as she would? She hoped not.

The door behind her slid open, she didn't turn to see who it was. She kept a lazy attempt at focus on the handcuffs, even if she did unlock it, she would just shut them again. Every time. The first couple times though, a policemen came in and nearly scared her into falling off the chair. He had the look on his face like she'd break out of the station or something, she really didn't pay any mind to him. Just shut them again. They didn't come back when it happened again.

A case file was dropped in front of her, some of its contents spilling. Her attention was shifted from the cuffs to the Manila folder, noticing there were a lot of papers in it. She must've done a lot of damage.

Another tear had slipped, she wiped it with a shaking finger. She let her hand drop and then fiddled with the lock again.

She stopped, glanced up at the person and noticed it was an android, then resumed what she was doing. He waited to sit down, staring at her hands, "What are you doing?"

She jumped slightly, not quite expecting him to talk so soon, she thought had was going to have to be the one to initiate conversation. She didn't like starting conversations. "Oh... uh, just nothing, I guess." She set the pin down silently. She jiggled her hands as he sat down and accidentally undid the cuffs. Her eyes widened and immediately began to shut her hands back in them, "Sorry about that." She said quietly, apologetically.

It looked as though every single synthetic bone in his body was in attack mode or something, hackles risen. She looked at his hands in return, noticing his were inches away from hers. She instinctively moved hers closer to her body, leaving the hairpin near his fingertips. "How did they let you have that?" He tapped the table near the grey pin.

She shrugged, feeling the urge to pick at her nails, "I don't know, you can have it if you want." She whispered, feeling as though if she spoke any louder, the room might cave in.

She looked a little further up from the table, resting on his tie. The color reminded her of elegance and a dominant personality. Death and of a midnight sky with no moon. It matched the color of his dress pants. The walls in this room, "What were you doing last Monday?"

She thought for a moment, most likely looking a little suspicious, counting back the days, "The Monday in this week? Or the last one. The seventeenth or the twenty-fourth?" She asked, raking through what she did on either of those dates.

"The twenty-fourth. What were you doing that day?" He reiterated, she heard some added firmness to his tone.

She paused, she was in an even worse mood that day. They couldn't know that though, but she told them the things she did, nonetheless, "I went to the grocery store with my mother, she got her prescription and then we gardened for a couple hours." She left halfway through, she thought but never said. She never took her pills. She started to bounce her foot underneath the table, "I took a nap and then took Benji for a walk."

"It was a nice, sunny day wasn't it?"

"Yeah, I thought it was pretty nice. Well, besides..." she trailed off, or was it rainy? She was inside the entire time, helping her. "I mean," she spoke up a smidge louder, then dropping her voice, "I liked it. So did Benji."