Always (Kuroro Lucilfer) Chapter 2

 “I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare.”

You sat at the head of the bed, arms crossed and legs folded, glaring at the bright pink dress that lay at the end of the bed with animosity, willing it to burn to a crisp until there was nothing left.

“Stop glaring at it and put it on.” Kuroro walked out of the bathroom, fixing his tie as he did so.

“No. Way. In. Hell.” You spat, glare intensifying. “You’ll have to kill me before I’d… no. I wouldn’t wear that thing even if I was dead!”

“I told you to stop saying such things.” He scolded, his full attention now on you. “If you don’t wear the dress, I’ll go out alone.”

“Like I care,” You scoffed, leaning back against the headboard. “I hate those damn fancy restaurants, anyway. Would it kill you to go to a cafe for once?”

A small sigh passed his lips, eyes sliding closed in exasperation. He knew this was one battle he could not win. “Let’s go,”

You grinned in triumph, sliding off the bed and slipping your sneakers on. Instead of tieing your shoes like normal people did, you tucked the laces into the side. This was yet another thing that Kuroro did not understand about you. You really didn’t have a reason to do so, you just did it to do it.

You were grinning widely as you walked past the suit-wearing male and out the door. Kuroro shook his head lightly, bangs shifting in front of his face, and followed behind you. When you stepped through the glass lobby doors, Kuroro held his hand out in front of you.

You blinked a few times before scowling and shaking your head. “No. No, no, no, no.”

He looked at you blankly, his expression remaining devoid of any emotion.

Your eye twitched and you stared at the ground. You could still feel his eyes on you and it made you shift uncomfortably. You may have won the dress battle, but he intended to win this one.

“Would you prefer walking to the restaurant?”

“I’d prefer a cab or bus. Hell, yes, let’s walk!” You started towards the direction of the restaurant but he grabbed your shoulder, preventing you from moving.

“Y/N,” his voice was soft but demanding. You knew that he would not move from that spot, or let you leave until he got his way.

You sighed in defeat, the corners of your lips pulling down into a frown. “Fine, You win.” You reached into the pocket of your hoodie and pulled out your keys, reluctantly dropping them into his hand.

Without a word, Kuroro walked to the back of the building and approached your precious car. You stood by the passenger door, staring at the shiny black vehicle with worry. Normally, you never let anyone even touch your car. Letting someone drive it was a completely different story. You would have kicked the ass of anyone who let the thought even cross their mind. But you couldn’t have your way in that respect when it came to Kuroro.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled the handle and opened the door, sitting on the leather seat before pulling it closed. You watched him closely as he put the key in the ignition and started the car.

“Put on your seatbelt. We’re going to be late for our reservation.” Kuroro took off, speeding down the busy streets like a bat out of hell. Now, you often drove like that, too, but it was your car. You didn’t trust anyone to drive, must less speed, in your car.

“Kuroro… I swear to god, if you get one scratch on my car, I’ll throw you off the freakin’ balcony!” You hissed, eyes narrowed at the stoic male.

“Hmm,” he hummed, completely unfazed by the threat.

As he stopped in front of the restaurant, you refused to leave the car unless he parked it down the street; there was no way you were gonna trust some valet with your car. Knowing you wouldn’t budge, he silently agreed and parked the car a few blocks down.

As soon as you stepped out, you began to check every inch of the car before sighing in relief and patting the hood lightly. “You live to see another day.”

Kuroro watched you from the sidewalk, his expression blank. This was another thing he didn’t understand about you. How could you love a car so much?

You didn’t look at him as you passed but you could feel his eyes on your back. It made you uncomfortable but you did your best to ignore it. Your discomfort only grew when they entered the restaurant.

It was extremely fancy. Everyone was dressed up like they were about to meet the King and Queen. There was soft music playing, a mix between a violin and a piano. Royal red carpet covered the floor, looking almost black in the dim lighting that came from various crystal chandeliers, as well as the candles that sat on every table. It was quiet, the people whispering quietly amongst themselves as if they had some valuable secret to hide.

The man that stood behind the podium inside the red velvet rope was dressed like a butler, a towel draped over his left arm. His pointed, bird-like nose was in the air like he was something special.

When he noticed you, his lips pulled back into a sneer, his beady eyes narrowing in disgust. His voice was nasal and drawn out, and the tone he used showed his strong dislike. “How, may I help you?”

You felt your fists clenching as you bit your tongue hard to force back the very colorful words that threatened to flow out like a raging waterfall. You probably would have exploded if Kuroro hadn’t grabbed ahold of your shoulders, sending a wave of calm through your body with his nen. It only helped a small amount, but it was enough to stop you from lashing out, at least.

“We have reservations under the name Kai Kensington.” Kuroro’s tone was kind as if he wasn’t at all bothered by the snooty man, but the tight, almost possessive grip he held on you was questionable. If your mind hadn’t been preoccupied, you probably would have asked him about it.

The man looked doubtful but checked the list nonetheless. His finger stopped and he sneered again. “Ahh, Mister Kensington. My sincerest apologies.” He undid the rope and turned to walk off. “Please, follow me. I’ll show you and your… friend to your table.”

You scowled at his back, wanting nothing more than to slam his head against the brick wall. “Sincere, my ass.” You muttered under your breath.

“You should be lucky they even let you in here dressed like that,” Kuroro whispered into your ear as he followed close behind.

You glanced at him over your shoulder. “I look fine. I’m dressed normally.”

“This place does not call for normal, Y/N. It calls for dressing in formal clothing. Normally, they won’t let anyone inside unless they are dressed up.”

“It’s your fault!” You hissed, quietly. “I didn’t want to come here in the first place!”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can’t you do anything I ask without arguing?”

You tapped your chin in false thought before shrugging. “Nope,”

“Sir. Madam.” The old man bowed, his right arm outstretched towards their booth. He sent you a sharp look before turning around to leave.

You flicked him off before taking your seat across from Kuroro. “What up with the name, anyway?”

“It was something different.”

“Hmm,” you leaned your elbow on the table, cheek resting snugly against your palm. Your eyes scanned over the menu with mild interest. Why did these fancy restaurants not serve good food? Or did you just have to be classy and rich to like them?

“Don’t be picky.” He scolded lightly as if reading her mind.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Are you ready to order?” The waitress was tall and thin, wearing black heels and a mini strapless black dress that clung to her figure, showing off her curves. Her dark brown hair flowed down her back like silk and her brown eyes watched Kuroro closely. She resembled a cat watching a bird fluttering around in its cage.

You rolled your eyes and tossed your menu to the front of the table. “Order me whatever. I don’t care.”

The woman gave her a look showing her disgust and you scoffed, closing your eyes so you didn’t have to see her anymore.

After writing down whatever Kuroro had ordered, she walked away, shaking her hips more than necessary.

Kuroro chuckled lightly, leaning forward with both elbows on the table and his chin on top of his folded hands.

“What?” You questioned, feeling uncomfortable with his penetrating gaze watching you. His eyes followed every movement you made without fail. “Will you stop?” You growled, looking away from him, light red tinting your cheeks. You hoped it was concealed by the flickering candlelight, but that seemed like too much to hope for. Why did he have to be so aggravating? “Why do you always stare at me like that?”

The waitress reappeared, setting the food down and sending a flirtatious smile his way.

You scowled. Did that bitch really have to interrupt before you could get an answer? Then again, you doubted that he would have given you an answer, anyway.

Even though the woman tried extremely hard to get his attention – leaning over farther than she had to in order to show off her cleavage, sending him flirty smiles with lust-filled eyes as she batted her eyelashes – Kuroro didn’t look at her once, not even a glance. His eyes were still trained on you.

You were glaring at her, but when you glanced at him, you couldn’t look away from his gaze. It wasn’t long before the woman became just a memory. Kuroro demanded your complete attention, and he got it.