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Summary
“My brother's ill,” he says quietly, his voice heavy with an anxiety that rolls off of him in waves. “My twin.”
“Atsumu,” you specify, since he did not. His gaze snaps up to meet yours, and there’s a spark of something new behind it. Something more volatile. He looks angry that you’ve taken it upon yourself to speak his brother’s name.
“I know what you are,” he says slowly, wielding his next words like a blade and aiming to kill.
“Oh?” You tilt your head to the side in a show of guilelessness.
“Yer a witch,” he continues, overlooking your feigned ignorance.
“There are no witches in this kingdom,” you reply. “The crown you’ve sworn your life to saw to that.”
