His red scarf [Feitan X Reader]

Chapter twenty six

The pair of you spent the day wondering round the city, acting much more like a married couple in their honey moon phase than either of you would have the courage to admit. Feitan liked to spoil you, rotten. It was probably not good for your ego, or his wallet. He claimed that he had more than enough (which he probably did), but him buying every item that you looked at was beginning to get a little excessive.

So, as a trade-off, you took him to an underground store you knew he would enjoy. It was at the outskirts of the city, in the basement of a traditional tea shop. One which you were convinced made their living through money laundering as there were never any customers there.

You lead him straight through the back door, with a brief nod to the ancient lady sitting at the desk, whom you'd gotten acquainted with from your various trips into the store.

"Where the hell are you taking me?" you heard his gruff voice from behind as you descended the rotting concrete stairs.

"Just wait. I know you're going to love it"

And he did. As soon as he steps down into the dark room, lit by hanging bulbs, his eyes widened in adoration. Lining the walls, top to bottom were vast arrays of every type of weaponry known to man. Shelves of guns, swords, and knives were crowding the walls. There was a section for heavy artillery, flame throwers, bazookas, and body armour. Pretty much, anything you needed that wasn't sold legally, you could find here. It was paradise for  criminals. Heaven for you and Feitan.

You watched his face carefully as he stood at the base of the stairs, eyes bright as he took in the shop that would now be dubbed his new "favourite shop". Noticing the small smile that crept up on the corner of his mouth, you asked the question you had been eager to know.

"Do you like it?"

He turned to you, eyes gleaming and rushing forward, picked you up gracefully and swung you round. You yelped at the sudden loss of the ground beneath yourself and cackled wildly as you got spun around, clinging to his shoulders for dear life. Feitan started to laugh along with you, the deep chuckle accompanying your light squeaks harmoniously. After three rotations he gently put you down, slipping his hands down to your waist and holding you close to him so that your noses were almost touching.

You stared deep into his eyes, and with a sudden shock, panicked for a second. Bringing your hand up to caress his face, you whispered delicately,

"Feitan, why are you crying?" 

Soft, gentle tears accumulated in his water line, a few escaping and slipping down his face as he tried to blink them back; not so that he could hide his emotions, but so that his vision of your face wouldn't be blurred in his sight.

"I'm so fucking happy. YOU make me so fucking happy" he breathed, snuggling his face into your palm. "I really thought I would be alone for ever. I had accepted that. But then you... you turn up with your smile and your eyes and your everything! I'm just..." he breathed out a long sigh, contentedly leaning against your body for support. You stood watching in adoration as the man you had grown to love poured his heart out to you.

"I'm just happy." He opened his eyes, and in that moment, the entire world fell away. It was just you and him. Against anyone who dared get in your way.

You leaned up to him, and delicately brushed your lips against his skin, wiping away the tears that had fallen. There was no need for anything sexual in the slightest. Just appreciation for the others spirit, rather than their bodies. Placing your forehead against his, you rubbed small circles against his cheek with your thumb.

"You make me happy too"

There was a temptation to say so much more, so many words that were desperately clawing at your throat, begging to be expressed, heard and felt. But it was too painful, for the pair of you. Too many restrained memories that were not quite ready to resurface and be put to peace. You wanted to, he wanted to, but neither could. The adoring look in your eyes would suffice for now, a temporary substitute to those powerful three syllables.

Pulling away from him after a moment longer, you intertwine your fingers with his and waltz him over to the corner of the store containing the katanas. Presented to you was a vast array of beautiful, handcrafted swords of every kind. But immediately you were drawn towards a matching set of blades. The handles were wrapped tightly in black and red silk around the wooden base, alternating and intertwining the colours elegantly. The steel of the blade was a ghostly silver, polished perfectly so that in the light, a fast stroke would look like a flash of blinding white. They were perfect.

Feitan noticed you eyeing the pair of katanas and took them of the shelf. He turned to you and bowed, placing one sword in both hand as he presented it to you by raising it above his head

"For you, M'lady" He said in the most ghastly imitation of a British accent you had ever heard

Cackling, you kept up the mime by curtsying with your imaginary dress and chocking on an even worse accent between your laughs

"Why thank you my good sir"

He stood up once you had the blade in your hand, fingering along the handle and edge of the blade, admiring the skill of craftsmanship. Horizontally balancing the katana by the handle with one finger, you imagined what it would be like to strike an opponent down with such a graceful weapon. You looked up and into his eyes, knowing that the sister pair of blades would never be separated as long as the pair of you were never apart. And that was good.

You ended up getting each other's initials engraved on the corresponding blades. Now, you proudly strode around with the katana tucked in your belt with the initials F.P on the handle. And before you knew it, the pair of you were walking back, contentedly hand in hand, to the base.