"Get out of my apartment," was all that a grumpy Cheshire Cat wished to express as the red-eye man gracefully dropped to a crouching position from the ceiling opening of the crawlspace.
"That's not very host-like behavior, Mister Kitty."
"Don't care. Leave. Nya."
Dinah agreed with him, curtly hissing at the intruder and arching her fuzzy back.
But Vincent seemed very keen on staying to observe the state of the cramped, light green bedroom. He poked one of the arranged stuffed rabbits on a bookcase cautiously. "How peculiar this is… it seems you picked up some of the more extravagant obsessions of that girl…"
Cheshire snapped at him, batting Vincent's hands away from the blue and pink objects— hands he recalled that were almost always smeared with remnants of blood-soaked cotton stuffing—, "Don't you dare speak of my girl with that condescending tone, human boy…"
His furry black ears twitched in surprise when the golden-haired man gently touched the side of his face. "What a lovely eye you have in your socket…" He said, tracing the side of his middle finger across one of Cheshire's eyebrows, "…borrowed from a clown, was it?"
A faint tint of pink rose on Cheshire's nose under such close scrutiny from the human. The whitish end of his black tail swished nimbly as he held his breath, his skin warming to the other's caress.
"Or did the Will of the Abyss steal it for you?"
"It's none of your business, nya," Cheshire said, frowning, again batting Vincent away with his ferocious, metal claws.
"Are you in love with her, Mister Kitty?"
"She is my human. I love her more than anything."
Vincent smirked. "How…precious," he spoke the final word like it was a filthy curse.
"Why are you here?"
"Just visiting. I wondered if by any chance you still remembered me from so long."
"You are the boy who hurt me. And my girl." Cheshire's luminous red eye closed, his delicate, full eyelashes wavering with effort. "I will never forget that."
"Hate is such a strong force." Vincent whispered fondly. The taller Chain could feel him leaning in, a toxin smelling like overwhelming perfume but pleasantly so. Why could a loathsome creature like him smell pleasant? "I like that about you. We must all have something that drives us forward."
"Does killing drive you for—?" Cheshire let out an irked mewl when the man pinched one of his cat ears painfully, curiosity written on his expression. "Wh-what are you doing!?"
"Ah…so they are real."
"…nya! Of course they are!"
PH isn't under any licenses I own. I only own a driver's license that expires... - checks- ...in a very long time from now. AAAANNNDDDDD this was another writing challenge that – K a t r i x a – gave to me in time for Tell A Story Day that is today. I ENCOURAGE EVERYONE TO TELL A STORY WHILE THE DAY IS STILL YOUNG! OR EVEN CHALLENGE YOURSELF TO SOMETHING!
Things I learned from this Challenge: Again… why I want Vincent Nightray to burn in a fucking horrible fire. Anybody who stabs out an animal's eyes for pleasure can burn in fucking Hell. But I tried my very damn hardest to keep those emotions at bay for the sake of writing. The characters know who they hate and that is reasonable. Like Cheshire. And Break. And while we are at it...Alice/Abyss.
Things I learned from Omake 8: …. Vincent Nightray = Ceiling Cat. O.o
That is all.