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It’s steady beneath his fingers. Constant and rhythmic. Out of sync with his own. It bothers him more than it should.
“What’s your plan now?” Vanitas asks, like he’s bored. Like Ventus doesn’t have his hands wrapped around his throat.
“Shut up!” Ventus snaps. It feels wrong. It feels right. He does squeeze, pushing the heel of his palm down on his other half’s larynx.
Vanitas laughs, wheezing and strained, but laughs all the same. His pulse remains steady. “If you really want to kill me,” he covers Ventus’ hands with his owns and pushes down, applying more pressure that even startles Ventus. “you… will have to squeeze harder.”
His words are gasps and it would be so easy, so damn easy, to keep squeezing. To be done with this once and for all and never have to face his dark half again. His heart nearly stops at the thought. He doesn’t mean it. Vanitas keeps staring at him, watching him, excited and disappointed and bored and and-
His pulse is steady.