Misa knew something was coming. She really wasn’t stupid enough to think that he’d somehow drop it all and forget.
Still, she couldn’t stop herself from crying out when her shoulders and back hit the wall. Being moved like that when you couldn’t see was particularly horrific, and it hadn’t happened that way, before.
Being hauled around had caused Misa-Misa to shatter and break, leaving her open wide. Still, she could take this. His harsh voice and rough hands and…she could handle this.
She felt the material covering his knee cutting over her inside legs and she clenched, instinctively. He was always going to do that, she thought. He was a male kidnapper and she was a pretty girl and of course he’d do that. His knee reached her upper thighs beneath her skirt and she felt the presence of the leather, not quite touching where she wore sheer, filmy satin.
He stopped, there, and she felt horribly exposed, even so, the knowledge that her skirt was bunched around her upper thighs staying at the forefront of her mind.
One of his hands was resting against her throat and her breath hitched, there. It was all a threat, still; apart from where he shoved her against the wall, he wasn’t hurting her.
He was just opening her up like an autopsy. Misa remembered that she’d had a doll that was supposed to resemble an autopsy, except it was alive and cutesy and would remain so even on the table, batting her eyelashes and giggling as the knife slipped in.
“I don’t deserve this,” she squeaked, although she spoke carefully. “Why do I deserve this, Mr Kidnapper? Why do you make girls cry?”
It was a plea before she would silence herself and stare blankly throughout whatever he was going to do to her.
Never had Mello ever wanted to strike a woman. But in that moment, the desire to do so flared. Even though it was perfectly logical for Misa to ask him questions like that, especially if she were keeping up her idol persona, Mello still didn’t like hearing it. He wanted to shake her and yell back at her that this wasn’t fun for him, either - that she wasn’t giving him any other options. What was he supposed to do, faced with her denials? Faced with a countdown? Misa would surely die soon. Mello was surprised she hadn’t, already.
“Shut up,” he replied harshly, pushing her harder against the cool wall. “I gave you a choice.” He tightened his grip on her throat, but still not enough to choke her - still only a threat.
He shoved his knee up further, until it made contact. He could vomit, if he were alone. This was probably one of the worst things he’s done yet, and his record has been littered with bad things since leaving Wammy’s.
“Unless you tell me something, I’m going to keep going.” It might not sound like a plead to Misa, but it was one.