Why are you hanging on so tight To the rope that I'm hanging from? Off this island, this was an escape plan

You came up to him with a blank expression. It was a lazy lunch in the cafeteria and Kenma was minding his own business.

"Do you want to date me?" you asked, deadpanned.

Kenma golden eyes stared at you, his expression blank, "Okay."

And walk back down again to feel your words and their sharp sting, and I'm getting fucking tired

It had been almost a week since the spontaneous dating. Kenma realized you were broken, just more loud — full of aggression and strings of curses. Something contrast to him.

He decided you'd be the perfect person for his first murder. Until circumstances after circumstances happened and now he finds himself half-naked in the middle of the woods with his father's car on fire.

The capillaries in my eyes are bursting If our love died, would that be the worst thing? For somebody I thought was my saviour You sure make me do a whole lot of labour

Kenma's sharp gaze looked at you. Although his face remained blank, there was a hint of frustration in his eyes.

"You crashed our car." he simply said.

The calloused skin on my hands is cracking If our love ended, would that be a bad thing? And the silence haunts our bed chamber You make me do too much labour

Kenma tried to talk himself out of it. He believed that his patience would get him ti execute his perfect murder. But to be fair, the thought of killing you in the woods was a pleasant idea.

Kenma doesn't understand why he just couldn't do it.