Disclaimer: I do not own Black Cat.

Reading in Between the Lines

by orange sodap0p

Eve jumped as the door slammed. Her eyes peeked over her book, watching Sven angrily stomp across the room and into the kitchen, shoving the stools out of the way, the chairs threatening to tip over. He crouched down, and Eve could hear him muttering and cursing as he picked up the broken glass. Unconsciously, she held her breath, watching him scoop up the glass before—

Squeezing her eyes shut, she cringed at the loud string of curses pouring from his mouth. Peeking one eye open, she spied the blood dripping from his fingers. With an angry "Fuck it!" Eve's eyes followed Sven down the hallway until he disappeared into the bathroom. Slowly, she lowered her book with a frown. She witnessed their fights before, but this one... Her gaze landed on the spot just within the doorway where Train had stood only minutes before.

He walked down the street, hands stuffed in his pockets. He wasn't paying attention to where he went, nor did he really care. With eyes downcast, he let out a sigh. He definitely crossed the line this time. What he thought was playful banter turned into an onslaught of angry words, and when Sven gave him the cold shoulder, ignoring him, he lost it. Then in his rage, he accidentally bumped into the older man, causing Sven to drop his glass, shards scattering everywhere. Which led to more swearing, including the final "shut up", "fuck you", and "get the fuck out".

Part of him wanted to go back and try to fix the problem, to get things back to how they were, but Train knew Sven needed time to cool off. Usually he had patience, and Train was known to stakeout an area until the opportune moment arrived to advance in on a target, but when it came to things like this, his patience lacked. Severely. But at the same time, another part of him didn't want to go back. He wanted to keep walking and see where his legs took him. He was equally just as upset and decided he needed his own time as well. But still. Sven didn't have to explode on him like that.

...And in turn, he probably shouldn't have instigated it.

Train rounded another bend, passing by the local places they usually went to for catching dinner. And as if on cue, his stomach let out a pitiful grumble.

Hours later, Eve still sat in her chair, reading her book. She figured that was the safest thing to do as Sven gradually calmed down. Her eyes darted to the door as she heard a soft click, the door slowly opening. A very solemn-looking Train stepped in, a plastic bag in his hand. From atop her book, she spied him entering the kitchen, frowning at the glass still on the floor. Finding a broom, he swept it up before gingerly depositing the shards into the trash can. There was another click, and Eve watched as Sven emerged from his bedroom. For a minute, there was dead silence. Finally, Train spoke.

"Hey...I'm hungry."

Eve ducked behind her book, preparing to hear the expected punch in the face. But instead...

"Then cook your own food."

Train reached for the bag he had set on the counter and opened it, pulling out three styrofoam containers. "I, uh, figured I'd save us that torture by just bringing back some take out."

Examining the contents, Sven shrugged. "It'll do."

Eve blinked, sure she missed something as they got the dishes out to reheat the food. And as they called her over for her share, she was certain there was more to the verbal exchange than she heard. And no matter how much she read, she always had trouble reading in between the lines. For how did "I'm hungry" equal to "I'm sorry"? She just couldn't figure it out.

A.N: Very spur of the moment writing. I was trying to sleep, I swear, but suddenly I had a pencil in hand and wrote this in my sketch book. I guess its kinda reflecting my current mood. I can sympathize with Train in this one, and can only hope the ending will ring true. Heh ;)