#i haven't even written the Nikto's part in this

[gauloiseblue]

Blue Velvet

(König × Reader × Horangi)

War isn't easy to get through, and the importance of keeping the soldiers' morals is as crucial as their ratios. They need distractions as much as they need food, and the higher ups are forced to provide it to them. It should be a bare minimum, since they subjugated them to fight their war. But they're a bunch of pigs, of course they'd rather keep the money to themselves.

They did give them a show—twice a week, but it felt inadequate. They only call a shrieking woman, with equally loud music to entertain them.

It's appalling to him, and he scoffs at the thrumming beat from the tent, where the singer—if you can call her a singer—screams her tune. The soldiers would whistle at her, stretching their hands to touch her, and she'd playfully evade them. It feels animalistic, vulgar, and he scoffs everytime the music starts. He'd walk to the opposite side, while the soldiers flock to the tent.

He sometimes found the Russian agent by the woods, and they'd sit in silence while the rowdy show filled in in the background. Though he prefers to be left alone, it's a better option than the crowded tent.

They talk when it's necessary, but most of the time they keep their thoughts to themselves. Nikto would stare at the woods, or anywhere else, really. It doesn't matter, since his mind isn't here.

He thought it'd stay that way, until Horangi told him to come.

"It's not the loud American slag," He explained to him, "Trust me, you'll like her."

He was vexed when he dragged him along, but it quickly changed once they got into their seats.

It's not as crowded as usual, and he can hear the soldiers murmur behind him. Some of them have a curious tone, but some of them are derisive. He didn't understand the sentiment, until the lights are dimmed.

And there you stand. On the stage, with the floodlight shines on you.

You were cold, aloof. And there's something delicate in the way you stood. Though it's only a brief moment, before the music plays softly.

As if lured by the tune, you step into the light and sing.

She wore blue velvet

Bluer than velvet was the night

Softer than satin was the light

From the stars

The murmurs begin to cease, as you sing the gentle ode.

She wore blue velvet

Bluer than velvet were her eyes

Warmer than May, her tender sighs

Love was ours

He holds his breath, as the flutter of your voice reaches his ear.

Ours, a love I held tightly

Feeling the rapture grow

Like a flame burning brightly

But when she left gone was the glow of

His friend glances at him, and a smirk spreads on his lips. He sees it from the corner of his eye, but he couldn't care less.

Blue velvet

But in my heart there'll always be

Precious and warm a memory through the years

And I still can see blue velvet through my tears

"Told you you'd like her."

He stares at his friend, before he states a warning.

"Don't act like you know me." He hissed.

Horangi lifts his hands lazily, as he returns to watch the stage.

She wore blue velvet

But in my heart there'll always be

Precious and warm a memory through the years

And I still can see blue velvet through my tears

"You know," He started, while his eyes stayed on your figure, "I wouldn't watch her if she's not pretty, but you gotta admit that she's more than just a pretty face." He took a glance at him, "She makes you feel… things, doesn't she?"

"What do you want?"

His voice is enough to convey the message, but his friend doesn't flinch away. He pushes through instead.

"Help me capture the bird, and I'll give you half of it."

The chair screeches when he stands as he glares at him, before he marches out of the room.

His friend's eyes burn holes into his back, and he grits his teeth at the prying gaze. He hates it, he hates that he's seen through him.