Pretty

Still

His grip was gentle, harmless for once. He could see the smile crept upon his masked face.

This is peaceful.

No one was in the garden, this place has been abandoned for quite some time. With the gardener gone, the flowers began to wilt and die.

The manor once filled with life, now left with two.

"Are you hungry?" His voice was soft compared to the silence, he could hear every bass, cracks, and lightness. Despite how long he has been hearing his words, there was something that kept him on the edge.

Something was wrong.

He knew that, of course, he knew what's wrong. He always does. They didn't greet anyone just yet, breakfast wouldn't be complete without them.

"Not really." It's been a while since he had heard his own voice, the vibration against his throat, his mouth moving to speak instead of simply eating and drinking. The feeling was indescribable.

Free.

He watched as the other took off his mask, a smile planted as if it never left his expression. "Don't lie to me, alright?" His grip tightened, it's hurting him again.

Lying to him? His stomach wasn't growling, he was telling the truth. He was sure of it.

"You're hungry, you told me that right before you woke up." Soothing, he wants to lean into his arms no matter how much he knew the other would simply crush him for the fun of doing it. "I'll get some light snacks for you, we wouldn't want you to starve, it's bad for you."

He knew that, it's basic knowledge. He found himself nodding in understanding, gaining a pat on his head.

The silence was deafening, he thought to himself just as he sat down at the dining table. The other chairs were missing, leaving only a pair. Weird, were they living separately from the others?

"What are you thinking of, love?" His sapphire eyes widened, he jumped slightly in his seat. That was unusual of him.

He shook his head in response, what was he thinking about? He wanted to ask the same question.

Thinking about it was giving him a throbbing headache. His bandaged hands reached up to clutch his head tightly, as if that would stop the pain.

Who were the others?

A pair of gloved hands cupped and caressed his face, before pulling him into a hug. Warm. Safe and secure. A wave of euphoria washed over him. His headache was gone within seconds.

"Does it still hurt?" Even with the fabric brushing against his skin, it still felt human. Something that he missed dearly.

He hummed in response, his head resting on the other's shoulder. It was hard, as if he was all skin and bones. It was warm, so he didn't mind— as long as he was still here.

The food tasted bland in his mouth, he didn't remember picking up the utensil. Realising that the gloved hands were feeding him slowly, making sure he doesn't choke again.

Again?

Eyeing the plate of food before him made him wonder if he was sick. The smell, the beautiful display went in contrast with the taste.

No matter, it was made by his partner. Who is he to judge?

"How is it?"

He could hear the softness in his voice, as if he was singing a lullaby. He was lost at words, his mind went blank. It tasted like medicine.

"I like it."

There it is, the smile he was waiting for. The one that would light up his day, giving him the colours which he had failed to see. Sending goosebumps all over his skin, not knowing that he was smiling back blankly.

Just say that it's delicious, then he will smile for you.

He felt his fingers running through his hair gently, before it began tracing his face, jawline, down to his neck, collarbone, chest. He found himself trembling at his touch, it was cold.

Why? Was he dying? No, he's still there. Is he overthinking? Why was he cold?

Sapphire eyes darting around the room in its panicked state, he couldn't make out a single word. His head was pounding, trying to tell him something that he knew.

He shut it out. He screamed at his own head. Stop thinking. You weren't supposed to think.

Shut up.

He was gone, he blinked and rubbed his eyes. Where did he go? Did he leave him behind? Why? When? What did he do wrong?

"Aesop?"

Choking on his own voice, he shakily got off the chair. Pushing the dishes aside.

There were loud ringing in his ears, he would tell himself it was the silence's loudness. It became deafening.

His body felt heavy, darkness began filling his vision. He held onto the edge of the table to support his own weight, his legs were giving out. His head was spinning, he felt sweat around his forehead.

No, not now. Stop that. He can't go to sleep again.

What if he never wakes up?

Tears began to blur his vision, he couldn't bother to wipe them away. They were burning against his cheeks as they streamed down his face endlessly. He was on his knees, all the strength he had were gone, blown out like a candle.

His pulse was louder than his breath, it was difficult to breathe. He took in too much oxygen, or was it too little? He couldn't tell.

Don't stop breathing. Don't stop. Don't.

Suddenly, he felt a strong pair of hands wrapped around his waist, lifting him up.

He's back! His mind cried in pure joy, while his body remained limp in the other's arms.

He could barely make out the words of the other, they were muffled as if they were underwater. His ears kept bubbling, the dizziness hit him once again.

"Rest well."