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THIS IS FOUR YEARS OLD AND NOT SO GREAT BUT I AM POSTING AND AAAAH PANICKING
“You don’t really leave your hair unbraided a lot, do you?”
Narnina is caught off guard by the question; she had nearly forgotten Jun was there, lying on the bed, and she stops brushing her hair for a full moment to think her answer over.
“Yeah… I guess I don’t.”
The answer is absent-minded, half-hearted, dismissing the question as nothing as it should have been, and she continues brushing her hair as soon as she stops talking, detangling the long, pale blonde strands.
There is silence again for a few moments before Jun speaks, obviously not content with the answer.
“Why?”
Narnina, though slightly confused on why Jun cared, doesn’t pause when answering this time. “Because long hair is a hassle. It gets tangled easily and in the way of fighting.”
“Then why do you have it so long?”
She’s perplexed on why Jun keeps the conversation going, but only for a moment, and merely passes it off as Jun just being weird again and wanting attention.
“Because –” Narnina stops suddenly, biting her tongue to keep herself from continuing. She was going to say, “Because my mother liked it long.” but that’s just something too personal to say, so she just simply leaves it at “because.”
“And it’s not that long anyway,” she continues, slightly defensively, pointedly staring at her reflection in the mirror and not the one of Jun lying on the bed. “It’s only reaches to what? Mid-back when it’s down?”
“I suppose,” Jun agrees, not really listening. There’s something in her tone of voice that Narnina doesn’t like, something untrustworthy, mischievous, and she glances down at the image of Jun in the mirror, her finger stuck middle-twirl in her dark hair and her eyes shining deviously.
“But, you know,” Jun starts, un-twirling her finger from her hair and slowly getting up off the bed. Narnina suddenly feels defensive, and she very slowly and very carefully places the brush down and turns to face Jun. “I think it looks… so much prettier, when it’s down.”
And suddenly she’s too close to Narnina, she’s in Narnina’s space, and Narnina doesn’t trust the glint of something not-yet-said in her eyes, or the way she keeps getting closer, until she’s nearly chest-to-chest with her. And Narnina wishes she was wearing a shirt, because she’s feeling unnaturally exposed and she doesn’t like it.
“And… I think,” she reaches out a hand to grab a lock of Narnina’s hair, “you would just look so much—if your hair was down and you didn’t scowl… so much prettier…”
“Don’t touch me,” she hisses out quickly, angrily, suddenly feeling very much trapped. She doesn’t like this feeling, doesn’t like it at all, doesn’t like the way Jun’s speaking all too slowly, and she’s knows she shouldn’t feel like this—she’s a goddamned assassin, after all; she’s been in tight spots before and she knows how to get out of them—but can’t seem to make her body push Jun out of the way.
“But it’s true, you know. You really could be so much prettier if you tried,” Jun insists, slowly twirling the lock of Narnina’s hair around her finger. A hand is slid up her arm and on to her shoulder, and suddenly Narnina feels just so incredibly stupid for not seeing this before.
“You love Kish.”
It’s a statement, a way to try to get Jun to stay away, to back off, like it’ll somehow remind her that this is a bad idea.
“Yeah, I do… but I like you, too, you know.”
And the strands of hair are let go, and the hand is placed on Narnina’s hip, pushing her up against the vanity table. She knows she should just push past Jun and run to get Kish, run and tell him that there’s something wrong with Jun, that she’s obviously gone crazy, but she doesn’t. She can’t. Her body is unwilling to move, and she knows in the back of her mind that Jun’s completely fine, that she’s not crazy, but she doesn’t want to admit it.
“I don’t love you.”
“I know; I don’t love you either.”
The hand on her shoulder traces lightly over a new scar.
“This is wrong.”
Dark brown eyes look into her own light grey ones in amusement, shining with unspoken laughter.
“I know.”
Her heart beats a little faster in her chest, though she tries hard to ignore it.
“And besides,” Narnina watches as the scar tracing hand slips into the one of the many folds of Jun’s long black cloak, revealing a small dagger. She feels the dagger pressed lightly into her back, not enough to cut but enough for to notice, and listens to the rip of her chest bindings.
“Sometimes it’s fun to be a little bit wrong.”
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Quote: [5:06:23 PM] Yeili: this is kind of cool, i've beaten a murderer in mario party.
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