The nightfall, my skin crawl kind of evening.
Who: derbruder & payback
When: SOMEDAY. February 24th, evening.
Where: A few blocks away from Madara's onsen.
Summary: Giovanni has been following Rin for some time now, and has finally decided to let her know.
Warnings: Creepin'. Slightly subdued creepin', as Heine is gone, and that changes everything. I doubt there will be anything else--? Updated if necessary I guess. Probably won't be necessary.
Giovanni leaned over the edge of the roof, staring down at the street. The patterns of the people in the city had quickly become familiar to him. Patterns were easy to trace and easy to follow.
He looked up, briefly, at the sky. The wind pressed his suitcoat close, pulled it away again; pulled at his hair. He remained anchored against the edge of the roof, elbows on his knees. His eyes studied the clouds, tracing those patterns. In the absence of patterns: of the most important pattern.
His mouth twisted; his lip curled. Teeth, then, glinting, and the wind was cold against even his teeth, but Giovanni sat very still. Heine, he thought. He looked back down at the street.
Little Asano Rin. The chess girl. Leaving work, hurrying along. Or not hurrying. The speed of a person was difficult to gauge, especially when one was always slightly faster. Giovanni leaned out over the edge of the roof, and he smiled.
When: SOMEDAY. February 24th, evening.
Where: A few blocks away from Madara's onsen.
Summary: Giovanni has been following Rin for some time now, and has finally decided to let her know.
Warnings: Creepin'. Slightly subdued creepin', as Heine is gone, and that changes everything. I doubt there will be anything else--? Updated if necessary I guess. Probably won't be necessary.
Giovanni leaned over the edge of the roof, staring down at the street. The patterns of the people in the city had quickly become familiar to him. Patterns were easy to trace and easy to follow.
He looked up, briefly, at the sky. The wind pressed his suitcoat close, pulled it away again; pulled at his hair. He remained anchored against the edge of the roof, elbows on his knees. His eyes studied the clouds, tracing those patterns. In the absence of patterns: of the most important pattern.
His mouth twisted; his lip curled. Teeth, then, glinting, and the wind was cold against even his teeth, but Giovanni sat very still. Heine, he thought. He looked back down at the street.
Little Asano Rin. The chess girl. Leaving work, hurrying along. Or not hurrying. The speed of a person was difficult to gauge, especially when one was always slightly faster. Giovanni leaned out over the edge of the roof, and he smiled.