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Scaramouche snickered as he trailed the tip of his knife down the side of his victim's cheek, drawing a thin trail of blood as he went.
"You poor thing," he cooed, watching as fear filled the man's muddy brown eyes. A sick sense of satisfaction filled him as he watched sweat drip down the side of the man’s head until it made contact with his inflicted wound, mixing and dancing with a drop of blood before falling down and splattering on the penthouse’s dark marble flooring. "All alone with no one to save you. How does it feel knowing you're in the same position you've put your own victims in?"
The man seemed to get enraged at his words, the fear in his eyes still present, but overclouded by anger as he scrambled to grab onto any part of Scaramouche’s body. The pitiful display caused Scaramouche to laugh, pulling away just far enough to be out of the man’s reach.
"Pathetic. How far the Minamoto clan has fallen," he sneered, glaring at the scum in front of him. He wound his foot back and kicked the man’s side, the mad smile on his face only growing at the sickening crunch he heard when his boots made impact. “And to think the public cherished and loved you greatly. I wonder what they'll say now once they find out you were the one slipping doses of fentanyl into all of your company’s manufactured drugs? That you’re a sick mind who only gets off on killing people and getting away with it. Aren’t you looking forward to seeing their reaction, Minamoto?”
The sudden clack of heels on the marble tiled floor behind him caused Scaramouche to straighten up. Scowling, he turned his head just enough to be able to see who exactly had come to interrupt his fun.
The flash of light blond hair and glowing amber eyes caught his attention.
"Gold," he greeted, pushing himself up from his crouching position. He flicked his knife closed and tucked it in his pocket before turning around. Curiously, his gaze flickered at the door she had arrived from and her, taking note of the way she was dressed in a simple, yet elegant black dress with a white fur coat draped around her dainty shoulders. "You're late. Tell me you at least found the documents we came here for."
The idea of other people seeing his partner dolled up pissed Scaramouche. He didn’t care if she did it to infiltrate the party downstairs and gather information — all he cared was that other people saw what was his and his to see alone.
"Of course, what do you take me for?" Lumine smirked and pulled out a thick manila envelope from behind her back, her long, red manicured nails tapping against the material as if to accentuate her point. "Come now, Indigo, you know me better than that."
Scaramouche let out a short laugh and strode towards the young lady, unable to help himself. Tugging her firmly towards him by her waist, he leaned into her ear and chuckled. "Of course, my starlight. I know you–" he danced his index finger up her spine, delighted with the way she shuddered against him "–like a hunter knows his favourite prey. Very." He leaned in until his lips touched the tip of her ear, his breath causing goosebumps to raise and dance across her skin. "Well."
Still, Lumine found the strength to scoff at her partner. Leaning in close, her hand wrapped around the front of Scaramouche’s neck and squeezed ever so gently, a warning to the man in front of her. "How funny, my Balladeer, we both know who is in control here and we both know just how fast I can be."
"You can't outrun me," Scaramouche's dark eyes glittered with amusement, his lips turning upwards into a trace of a smile at the thought of Lumine trying and failing to escape his grasp. "It doesn't matter how fast you run, I'll always catch you."
Lumine let go of the documents, letting them plop on the ground carelessly behind them. Both of them ignored it, too wrapped up in each other to worry about the documents they had been sent to retrieve or the man they’d been sent to kill.
One manicured finger trailed down Scaramouche's cheek before landing below his chin. Lumine tilted her partner's head back and smiled viciously, leaning in close until their lips were barely touching and their eyes could only gaze at each other, their vision filled with nothing but the other. "Silly Balladeer. I'm not planning on running anywhere. You, on the other hand, might try to escape once I'm done with you," she breathed out, the puffs of air kissing Scaramouche's lips in a tantalizing manner.
He wished he could drown in her. Consume her and everything she touched, and be consumed by her in turn.
It would be the only way he was willing to die.
How much he wished to take her right there and then in this fancy penthouse they found themselves in. Every single surface of this godforsaken house marred with each other’s touch and each other’s scent, their bodies intertwined as they gave themselves to each other over and over again. Sinning all night long and through the morning after. The only word on their lips each other’s name, a worship that would rival even the most pious of people.
Unfortunately, they still had an unsightly insect in the room they needed to deal with.
Scaramouche pulled away from his partner, his lover, his everything, and took out his revolver. He clicked off the safety and cocked it before pointing it at the now shaking man kneeling in front of them.
How dare this man lay his eyes upon his goddess? She was his to unravel and his to claim and worship.
Lumine pressed herself against her partner and smirked when the arm around her waist tightened possessively. Her amber eyes danced with glee as she watched Minamoto practically wet himself at the sight of them standing above him, the rat finally cowering the way he should’ve been doing for the past five years.
"Poor thing," Lumine mocked even as the man wept for his life. There was sheer ice in her gaze, cold enough to rival the Arctic Tundra. There was no drop of mercy to be found. "You really ought to do some research on who you're messing with next time."
"Please! I-i'm sorry–"
"Wretched vermin," Scaramouche spat out. "Die."
Bang!
Scaramouche watched, stone faced as the body slumped onto the floor. He lowered his gun and, after making sure to click on the safety, tucked it into his holster.
“Oh, you’ve got a cut on your cheek, dear,” a sweet voice broke through his thoughts. A pair of cool hands gripped his cheeks gently, a thumb rubbing at the thin wound on his left cheek carefully. “Must’ve been the casing hitting you. We’ll have to treat that later.”
Scaramouche shrugged and placed his hands over hers. “Don’t worry about it,” he murmured, eyes scanning Lumine’s face with concern. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
Lumine grinned. “No, of course not. You protected me well, Indigo.”
Chuckling, Scaramouche leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on his lover’s lips. “I would be a failure of a man if I failed to do even that much.”
Click!
Heizou frowned at the body in front of him, his pen tapping against the edge of his notepad restlessly. Beside him, Kazuha examined the photo he had just taken, making sure the photo was clear.
Around them, Xiao continued to search the room with a UV light, looking for trace evidence.
"It's clear," Heizou muttered as he bent down to pick up a singular indigo rose and a gold calling card made from expensive, glossy material, "that we're dealing with a pair of troublesome individuals."
A part of him wanted to crush the rose but he held it out for Aether to take and place into an evidence bag instead. This would be the third rose this month and the third death he’d been unable to prevent.
"How annoying,” Heizou grumbled under his breath. He couldn’t wait to finally capture the pair and charge them with all their crimes. The amount of cases he’d handled that they’ve been a part of was growing in amount, but he was getting nowhere. Somehow, they were managing to evade him and his skilled team. He doesn’t know how they’re doing it but they’re beginning to grate on his nerves. “Just how are they not leaving any trackable evidence behind? It doesn’t make sense.”
Behind him, Aether smiled.
In his pocket sat a single casing that he would be returning to his sister once his shift ended. No doubt she’d be wanting that back.
Maybe if he was lucky, he’d be able to overhear her scolding her partner over being careless and leaving the casing behind.