“I know just what it feels like

to have a voice in the back of my head.

It’s like a face that I hold inside

A face that awakes when I close my eyes.”

-Papercut by Linkin Park


-Chapter Three-

He’s got a foul mind. I find it amusing. This carefully controlled on the outside kitten, has claws in his brain. I’m lucky he doesn’t speak very often. Or maybe I’m not, since I hear what he’s thinking anyway.

He doesn’t like not being able to move. It makes his mood particularly foul. But he’s done fairly well in the last few days. He hasn’t insulted me too often. At times he’s almost friendly as I get him to play chess, and other games with me. I’m not used to trying so hard not to upset someone. And I imagine he’s not used to having his mortal enemy be friendly to him. So, we’re both learning.

Did I mention how cute he is?

He still hasn’t noticed that I’m watching him. His brow is puckered as he stares down at a book. I imagine he’s reading. Or maybe he’s just pretending to read while he’s really focused on his thoughts. There is a way I could find out, but I made a promise to myself never to dip into his mind unless he gives me permission first.


Like that would ever happen.

“Why are you watching me?”

So. He did notice me. I paste a quick smile onto my lips, “Can you move today?”

He glances up, “My head. And arms…”

I knew that. I meant could he move something new. But it’s that ‘give no more than you need to’ attitude of his that I love. It’s too bad he was born a norm. He could have made a very nice addition to Schwarz.

And then I could be free to lo-


I don’t love him.

I -can’t- love him.

It’s just not possible.


I hate it when he watches me. Sometimes he’ll stare for hours, not speaking, not moving, just staring at me. How can I be comfortable when my enemy is staring so intently at me? Not that I could be comfortable if he didn’t. I still can’t move my legs, and I’m being held by Schwarz. What’s there to be comfortable about?

Still, things would be better if he stopped staring.

I hate it when he smiles.

I hate the way his eyes twinkle.

I hate how soft his hair looks as it gently caresses his cheek.

I hate that I find myself attracted to him.

I put the book down, laying it face down in my lap and stare right back at him. “You didn’t answer my question Schwarz.”

He lowers his head, almost looking sheepish. “Just trying to figure you out, Weiss.” How can he sound so amused? Sometimes I think he must not be human.

“Why bother trying? Why not just dip into my thoughts?” I know he can. He’s done it before. Not lately… not since I woke up here, in Schwarz headquarters.

I wonder at that.

“Ah…” //How could you ever learn to trust me if I’m dipping into your thoughts?//

I lower my eyes, resisting the urge to snort in disbelief. “Why would I ever trust you? Why would I -need- to trust you?”

“I have no answer for you.” //I just want you to trust me, Weiss. I have no intention of hurting you. I just want you to get better so you can go home.//

“Why not kill me?”

//I don’t want to.//

“Why not?”

//You ask too many questions Weiss.// Schuldich smiled, //I never took you for the inquisitive type.//

I fall silent. Disliking his smug expression. He’s taunting me. Trying to get me to shut up. But why? What is he trying to hide? What is he planning? I pick my book back up and focus on the words, but they don’t register.

I can’t stop thinking about my enemy.

The man sitting across from me, smiling and staring at me.

What is he plotting?


He’s so cute when he’s being suspicious. I love the fact that he questions me every step of the way. Even though I’ve made no attempt to harm him in the last few days, he still doesn’t trust me in the least.

I like that.

I can respect and understand that. He’s not gullible, and that just makes me lo-.. like him more.

He’s reading again. Ignoring me. He’s good at ignoring people. Especially people he doesn’t like. People like me. It would be so easy to dip into his thoughts and see what’s going on in that pretty head of his… but I won’t.

I won’t break a promise I made to myself.

But god it’s hard not to.

“How does your head feel?”


I’m surprised he even answered. He looks as if he’s hardly aware of my presence. “No headaches?”


“Are you lying to me because you don’t want your enemy knowing the tru-”

“Do you ever shut up?”

I chuckle and shrug, “Sometimes.”

“Then do.”

“Yes, boss.” I drawl teasingly.

He looks up, I don’t need to read his thoughts to see the surprise in his gaze. He quickly looks down again, ignoring me.

I lean back in my chair, smiling. I will crack that shell of his. I’ll figure out some way to gain his trust…

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