Taking A Chance

An Argument Over The Past

  The basement light barely flickered as the computer screen showed a blueprint for a body, though the canvas seemed undecorated over the bright screen, only giving a blank mannequin to look at. Further in the room were tables, still littered with blueprints of - almost - the same structure, but nothing was written to a specific size. A cylinder capsule stood closest to the back wall, the liquid coloring glowing a vibrant mix of blue and green as it - mostly - lit the room around it, which even put the light above to shame. 'Creak' 'Thud' Ennard quietly walked down the old stairs, a tired look in his eyes as the dark bags underneath only seemed to worsen. 'I need to figure this out...' Ennard tiredly thought as he made his way to one of the tables, gently grabbing the closest blueprint as he observed the - barely written on - piece of paper before him. 'My anatomy works just fine, but,' Ennard hoarsely thought, barely looking to the illuminated screen on the computer, though the screen itself seemed a bit of a blur to him. 'I can't help but think of how Michael looked before he met me...' 'It sure doesn't help when I'm the reason he's rotting in immortality like this...' Ennard thought again, worriedly biting his cheek before a metallic taste shot through his tastebuds, seemingly unaware of any pain he should have felt from it. 'Had I never scooped him, then he wouldn't be suffering because of me...' Ennard hurtfully thought before rubbing his sore eyes, a loud grunt escaping his - even more - sore throat. 'I know he forgave me, so why can't I forgive myself?!' 'Why does this have to hurt so much?' Ennard aggressively thought, though he quickly took a deep breath, so not to lose control of his emotions so quickly. Exhaling his sharp breath, Ennard gently rubbed his head before setting his work down, glancing towards the stairs. 'Maybe he'll feel better if I make him a new body...?' 'Will he even let me do that, though...?' Ennard quizzically thought before quietly sighing as he walked for the wooden stairs, the old creaks of the stairs' boards making themselves known as Ennard walked upwards, seemingly ignoring the sounds entirely. 'What if he doesn't like it?' 'Will he be even angrier than before?' 'Will he kick me out?' 'Will he hate me for forcing him into a new body?' 'Will he never let me love him...?' Ennard worriedly thought as he continued up the stairs, briskly making it out of the door as he quietly shut it behind him, though he hadn't seemed to notice. 'Maybe he'll be happy about it?' 'He won't feel the pain anymore, or not have the chance to do everything he used to without it?' 'Maybe he'll thank me for it even...?' Ennard hopefully thought, even though his hope wasn't bubbling as high as his worries from before. 'What if he sees it as a trick to get him to stay with me...?' 'Will he hate me...?' Ennard worriedly thought again, a tear barely emerging in his hetero-colored eyes before he hurriedly wiped them as he finally looked up.

  Michael stood by the kitchen stove with a pot on top, carefully stirring - what Ennard could assume was - some kind of stew, letting the delicious smells waft through the air. Ingredients laid about the counters, some of them even covering Michael's rotting face that seemed so concentrated with the pot before him. 'Here we go...' Ennard worriedly thought before taking a deep breath, only to tiredly sigh as he made his way over to the cooking male. Michael still remained focused on the pot, seemingly unaware of the figure slowly walking towards him. Although, that changed once Michael felt arms around his waist, waking him from his cooking dream. Turning his head slightly, Michael felt Ennard press against his back, the taller male's head gently laying on the rotting shoulder. 'Is he okay...?' Michael quizzically thought, feeling his worry rise as he noticed the dark bags under Ennard's eyes, which hadn't left the poor soul behind the rotting male. 'He didn't look like that yesterday...' 'Maybe he couldn't sleep last Night...?' 'Why?' Michael thought again, carefully putting the spoon on the counter as he pressed his chest against Ennard's, though the taller of the two hadn't noticed yet. "Ennard...?" Michael softly spoke, tilting his head as Ennard slowly looked his way. Ennard's eyes seemed lost, almost like he wasn't - fully - home. 'What the...?' Michael quizzically thought before shaking his head, trying to stay focused on the latter of the two. Michael bit his lip, feeling his worries from before only grow by the passing seconds. "Ennard, what's wrong? You only ever look like this when you're upset... Are you okay...?" Michael worriedly spoke, feeling the weight on his chest tighten as Ennard took a deep breath, only letting out a heavy sigh soon after. "... Do you ever miss how you used to look before meeting me...?" Ennard finally croaked out, though his eyes hadn't changed from the distant look from earlier. Michael carefully hummed, quietly placing a hand on Ennard's tense cheek, though neither flinched from the sudden contact. 'Why would that be bothering him?' Michael quizzically thought as he rose a sharp brow, though softly sighed nonetheless. "I guess I miss my old Life, but I know there's no way of getting it back. Why are you asking this, anyway...?" Michael gently pressed, continuing to pet Ennard's cheek so the latter wouldn't try to move away. Ennard - however - hadn't moved a muscle, only keeping his distant look before cupping Michael's cheeks, feeling the rotting flesh underneath. Ennard barely flinched, causing Michael to raise - yet another - sharp brow as Ennard tiredly sighed. 'He knows that I made my body, but maybe he doesn't think it'll work...?' Ennard quizzically thought, only biting his cheek before taking a long, deep breath before the rotting male in front of him. "Better question; What if I just made you a new body...?" Ennard firmly asked, a glint of hope shining in his hetero-colored eyes.