Chapter Text
“Violence.”
Kobeni calls into the darkness of a shared apartment bedroom, wide-eyed and mouth dry, looking up at the ceiling as if waiting for it to crumble down on them. No response comes until she repeats the name, weighing heavy on her tongue despite the fact that she feels as though her mouth was made to say it.
“Mm,” his voice comes, groggy and low. Kobeni keeps quiet for a long while, her eyes never leaving the ceiling even as her hands tremble beside her. In her head, she imagines climbing into bed with Violence, and he'd cling to her as she would to him, and everything would be okay. But he's in pain, hardly recovering from the Darkness Devil. After that'd happened, they'd formally resigned. Kobeni could no longer stand it and Violence was in no form to fight anymore. He'd nearly lost his life. Who was she to put him in even more pain for her own selfish needs?
“Are.. how are you feeling?” She asks, dumbly. She already knows what he'll say. He's alive regardless. For the past few weeks or so, she's been feeding Violence her blood in small increments. Neither of them could stomach the idea of hurting innocent people just to feed him. As much as they both wanted Violence to heal, Kobeni especially, they wouldn't stoop so low. Not to “her“ level, in any case. So slowly, but surely, he's been healing. Yet, the fear of losing Violence's presence eats away at her mind so terribly that she doesn't bother to think about the obvious. Selfishly, she wishes to keep him awake.
Violence thinks for a moment. The room is quiet until his voice fills the silence. “I'm okay,” he says at last. “You've been taking such good care of me. I'll be better in no time thanks to you, Kobeni.”
Kobeni ignores the heat rising in her face to stutter out a response. “Yeah. Um, speaking of, do you need...?” She doesn't need to finish her sentence. She's already fed Violence some of her blood this week, she recalls. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Violence shake his head.
“Nah. I'm good. Thank you, Kobeni.” After he replies, the silence returns. It's clawing at Kobeni, digging its heels into her stomach, gnawing at her to say something more— something that'll keep the conversation alive. Every time he goes quiet, he dies in her mind until the sound of his voice reaches her ears again. The fear of what her thoughts will do to her if she loses the sound of Violence's voice is too horrifyingly real for her to fight it off. But she doesn't say that. Instead, she gulps, and finally looks over to the bed across from hers.
“Violence,” her mouth feels dry, hanging open as she forces the words out of her throat, “W- we should go out together again, when.. when you feel better. I- I can treat you,” she says, her expression far too nervous. She misses the days when Violence would get her treats after missions. They'd take breaks together so frequently that Denji had begun to tease Kobeni about it, pestering her about whether or not she liked Violence. She'd always brushed it off, but...
She hears a chuckle from Violence on the other side of the room, and her stomach twists itself into a knot. Kobeni wonders if it's too late to throw herself out the window before Violence responds.
“I'd love to. We used to do that stuff all the time, hahaha. Feels like forever ago, now,” he jokes, but Kobeni can't help but frown. When was the last time they'd hung out together, not fighting a devil, or tending to each other's wounds? Violence used to treat her to stuff all the time.. she never knew where he was getting all that money. And to spend it on her.. how embarrassing, the way it makes her heart quicken in her chest.
Kobeni looks at Violence, eyes softened and brows lowered. She can't will herself to open her mouth and ask for what she wants. Her gaze lingers on him longingly, as if pleading for him to understand the words she'll never say. She's too worried that as soon as the words leave her mouth, she'll curse them both. She always was an overthinker.
Her eyes return to the ceiling for just a moment. One moment, and then she's pushing herself out of bed, head hung low so she doesn't have to see Violence's mask facing her as her feet hit the cold floor and walk over towards his bed. No words are exchanged. She climbs in, and cautiously, carefully, wraps her arms around the areas of Violence that she knows won't hurt his scar-ridden, wounded body. Kobeni shuts her eyes as soon as she feels Violence's hand in her hair, gently tugging out her hairband before it rests against her head.
Kobeni nuzzles into Violence's grasp, resting her face against his chest. She tries not to dig her nails into him as she clings to him tighter, her tense expression relaxing as she breaths in his warmth. Violence rests his other hand on the small of Kobeni's back, his fingers lightly drawing shapes into the back of her shirt. He doesn't have the strength to hold her as tightly as he would've before, but Kobeni can tell by the way he's shifted that he's trying to reciprocate her tight hold.
“Goodnight, Violence,” she whispers against his skin.
“Goodnight, Kobeni.”