Cri De Coeur ||Mikayuu||

⚜12⚜

I often hear his heartbeat thunder in my ears.when he is breathing in his sleep, talking to me, and when he gets flustered. I can hear it as loud as the audience when they cheer.
His pulse in its own is a melody only I can hear. But it has become painful. A reminder that it pumps blood through his veins.
His heartbeat was nowhere near merciful to me.

"Hello, New York City!" Colette's voice boomed out to the crowd. She did her typical routine, although this time stepping off the stage and roaming the aisles. The rest of us were shocked to see her get away with it. "Such lovely people here today. Okay! I need four people! Same old same old, no one cares what you look like unless you have a horse mask on- yes I can see you in the back." She said. Four was one more than the usual three, not very peculiar. Probably wanted to try something new. She got four people. Two teenagers, an adult, and an old lady. She walked behind the mirror, ushering Lola out. "I don't even know how you got there." She mumbled. I watched her imitate them, and saw just how much she took from them. It wasn't just personality and body language. I saw her eyes shift in emotion, from curious, to stern, to sweet, and too ominous.

Her time was soon up. Mika and I stood out from behind the mirror, Colette squeaking in surprise. "When did you two get there?" She cried. "We've been there the entire time." I shrugged. "Not really the point." We ushered her off stage, taking over.

"Yay. We didn't fuck up." Mika cheered apathetically, throwing his coat at a chair. Lola giggled. Then he bolted across the backstage, taking whatever Colette offered him. The ringleader didn't even throw a glance to us, nor the figure racing to the bathrooms. I followed him, hoping he didn't lock the door.

He did.

"Mikaaa," I said for the twenty seventh time, knocking on the door. Ten minutes of silence from him. The room had begun to turn dark all from the outside losing light. After another seven minutes, I grew anxious. I placed a hand on the handle, knowing nothing would happen. But, a black tendril swirled around my hand, the door clicking.

 I didn't do that.

"Yes you did." Asuramaru informed me. Well, shit. Didn't know being a demon came with lock picks.

I had expected him to be in the same stall as usual, instead finding him standing with a hand pressed against the wall, head hung low as he breathed deeply. His nostrils twitched, the drool seeping past his lips quickly being wiped away.

"It hurts." I heard him quietly say.

"Being around you, it hurts." He muttered.

He breathed a shaky laugh, Crimson eyes wavering as he glanced to me. "It's strange to say, but ever since they experimented on you, you smell... Irresistible. It's been very difficult to restrain myself. But I am in so much pain, Yuu. I need blood. I don't want it. But I need it." I saw the pure heart wrenching agony written across his features as he gazed at me. I honestly had no problem if he took mine, but it still struck me to see that the first emotion he revealed to me that was locked down within him was pain. Of all things, he was struggling.

Before I could offer myself to him, I felt my back hit the closed door, weight pressed against me. "I'm sorry. I said I wouldn't let anyone hurt you, and I broke that. I'm so sorry." I heard him say quietly. He was rambling. His fingertips lightly brushed my skin as he shoved my collar aside rather harshly, piercing pain shuddering throughout me, although only for a moment, as he sunk his sharp teeth into my skin. The pain lingered, but it didn't hurt. Was it bad to say I enjoyed it?

 Probably.

"It's fine. As long as you're safe, I'm happy." I muttered, biting down on my tongue. I glanced to the left, noticing the opened bottle of Advil with its contents spilled about.

"You know, this is really gay. As in more than usual."

He seemed to exhale in relief before he pulled himself away, wiping at his lips. His gaze was on the floor, avoiding eye contact with me. "Hey, Mika." I knew he wouldn't look up, body language reading that he was ashamed of himself.

"Thank you for telling me the truth."

I watched his head snap up in surprise, although what greeted me startled myself far more. Those beautiful sapphire eyes I had engraved into my skull so long ago were back. They replaced the ruby red that was there only minutes before. I didn't know it would affect me like it did. Just a tiny detail. But it unveiled far more. I could see the shine in his eyes, how they reflected every emotion he felt. The world could be seen in his eyes, bright and full of life even though there was a high possibility he himself wasn't. There wasn't a much in there as before, of course. But he was in fact ashamed with himself. His lashes were lowered across his eyes, and they constantly darted around. Although, they locked with mine and remained there when I called his name once more. "Mika,"

"Look at yourself."

His blood tasted as breathtaking as he smelled. It may sound weird. To be attracted to a certain scent. It's indescribable, how he smelled to me. As usual, he brought the forest with him. No matter how long he remained indoors, he smelled like the freshly cut grass of his lawn we would often sit in, of the morning dew left on the tree in his backyard I would have often find myself seated upon when we were children. The smell of that was beginning to dull my senses. But there was something else paired with it. I cannot explain what it is, of course. Maybe flowers?

 But his blood... Did not taste like blood. It felt as thick as honey as it slid down my throat, sugary sweet and savory with every sip. There was a chance, obviously, that it tasted as good as it did counting the fact I have not had blood since the day I woke up from the experiment. A feeling in the pit of my stomach told me this was not the reason.

 Many things about him may be irresistible.

But I felt it. An emotion deep inside that intertwined with the exact reason why he tasted and smelled absolutely wonderful.

One even my own words could not describe, how he surprises me in new ways each coming day.

Amour.