… Just… I don't even know anymore. Half-assed again.
Tried to make a plot and failed.
Some sexual innuendo?
Their relationship is in reverse.
Where it should be the man basking in the woman's beauty and admiring her every step, Miranda finds herself not being the object of attention, but in the male's role instead.
Then again, she sometimes wonders if she can call this a relationship. There is no doubt in her mind that she is completely, utterly and totally infatuated with him; but when it comes to Kanda, well… she'll never really know what goes on in that head of his.
The dark-haired swordsman does not stare at her openly when they're walking down city streets (like she does); he is rarely polite (or about as polite as he allows himself to be for the opposite gender), straightforward, to the point and refuses to sugarcoat things. He always manages to find something to pick at and make her feel lowly for, if only to stay true to his character.
She dimly wonders if she's a masochist.
Because it was weird, loving a guy who could probably make a better-looking woman than she could. Here he was; male, eighteen, in his prime, and drop-dead gorgeous, all the while bedding a woman six years older than him with an inferiority complex. Though she doubts there's a girl alive that could match him, he should at least try—even if Lenalee had the eyes for Allen, he could attempt to find someone at least similar, and if it had to be someone older, why not a woman like Klaud Nine?
One day, she voices her worries aloud in a train compartment before they disembark for London. She's wringing her fingers together and oh God she finds once she starts talking she can't stop, rambling on and on. About how she doesn't understand, about how she's sorry, about how he deserves more? Younger? Prettier?
The look of utter incredulity on his face when she mentions the fact that he'd make a more appealing girl than her almost makes her want to give into the momentarily mad impulse to laugh, but she doesn't.
Because she can't.
Because Kanda's got a hand closed over her mouth, and his brow is twitching.
"Fucking hell just shut up. You're being an idiot. Don't worry about such useless things."
She only nods numbly
… Maybe he can take on a bit of a man's role after all, because he lets her sit next to him instead of across from him for the whole train ride, and she doesn't even hear a complaint from him when she wakes up and finds she's fallen asleep on him halfway through the trip.
He just tells her to keep quiet and go back to sleep.
f i n . . .