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Just say it, say those five words and everything will be okay.
Swallowing against his dry throat, Noé fought tooth and nail against the rapid hammering of his heart against his chest. He forced a chuckle past his lips as he plastered a half-smile on his face. “I still don’t like you,” he said, and then finished whatever it was he wanted to say.
Vanitas would always turn his head away, gazing into the distance with a forlorn look in his eyes and an arm wrapped around his chest. His silence revealed everything Noé needed to know: their relationship had been on thin ice since the start. However, Noé had started to notice the splinters as of late.
That’s the way every encounter with Vanitas that went even slightly below the surface would go. There had been no exceptions to this formula. In the back of his mind, Noé feared what would happen should he choose not to say those five words, those words Vanitas implicitly demanded he say as security against his worst nightmare.
~ ~ ~
One night, as Vanitas sat on the ledge of the bell tower, Noé felt the divide between them lengthen with each painful pulse, the agony wracking against his bones as he stood beside him yet not with him. While Vanitas had gone to this spot for lonesome solace, to gaze at the city as the sun spilled beyond the horizon, Noé had merely followed him like a moth drawn to flame. And as Vanitas drummed his fingers on the cement platform, he began to worry he had overstayed his welcome.
“You’re intruding,” Vanitas said, his words slicing through the stiff air between them.
“I’m sorry,” Noé murmured as his gaze fell to his shoes. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he struggled to steady his breath as the drum of Vanitas’ clawed gloves grated against his ears.
Vanitas threw the vampire a sidelong glare, cocking a brow as he watched him incredulously. “Huh? Since when have you been sorry for intruding my space?”
Biting the inside of his lip, the least he could do was keep himself from getting flustered in front of him. “Look, I wanted to talk to you,” he started, the words creeping up from his throat.
“He’ll never know how you feel unless you tell him.”
It was the same advice he’d given Jean-Jacques at Gévaudan, and yet Noé found himself struggling to heed it. This was so much more difficult than he had anticipated...
“Spit it out then,” Vanitas snapped.
“Oh no, this is a bad time, isn’t it? He’s already angry with me and I haven’t even spoken yet!”
“I was thinking about how fickle life is, and how, if things had been different, it would have been you I had fought back at Gévaudan. I just wanted to say that... I’m glad the man I met on the airship that night called himself a Vampire Specialist and not a Chasseur,” he said, the words gushing out of him with more intensity than he had intended. Chancing a glance down at him, Noé was met with piercingly blue eyes staring back at him. As the last rays of sunlight illuminated his features in a golden glow, Vanitas held Noé’s violet gaze with anticipation. “And I wanted to say that I—”
“Humans are disgusting creatures.”
The words caught in his throat, and he stammered as the words jumbled in his head.
“The thought of someone being in love with someone as horrible as me... it’s absolutely vile!”
Vanitas’ countenance shifted, and as he stood to better meet Noé’s floundering form, his contempt faded away. His heartbeat stopped, frozen in his chest as the icy hand of fear crept up his spine. This wasn’t normal for Noé.
“What’s wrong?”
Snapping back into reality, Noé couldn’t tear his eyes from Vanitas as he watched with bated breath to hear what he had to say. He was transfixed by the beauty of the man before him, and the worry and agony painted across his visage was enough to tug his heart from his chest.
“W-Well, I,” he trailed, a hot blush rising to his features.
“What is it?!”
The desperation in his voice hurt Noé more than he wanted to admit, and it only served as a catalyst to free the words from the barrier of his tongue.
“I-I’m in love with you, Vanitas!”
The silence.
The silence was more than he could bear. It was agonizing, it was torture, it was—
“No you don’t.”
“What?” Who was he to say that? “Yes I do!”
“No, you don’t!” Vanitas bellowed, the gentleness and worry from his previous mask slipping away. “That’s impossible, it’s not true, you do not love me. You don’t even know what love is.”
Of all the emotions Noé thought he would feel if this were to happen, he didn’t expect for irritation to be at the forefront. Without hesitation, he reached out for Vanitas, grabbed his shoulders, and—right as Vanitas attempted to argue—kissed him.
Taken utterly by surprise, Vanitas whimpered against Noé’s warm lips, eyes wide and hands raised as Noé’s grip loosened. As his thumb caressed his cloaked shoulder, Vanitas was struck by a hot feeling behind his ribs. What was this feeling? What had Noé done to his senses? Did he like this?
His lips quivered, unchecked emotions rising to the surface as he clenched his muscles and pushed Noé backwards. Their lips separated with a smack, and his heart only throbbed harder.
“No you fucking don’t!”
Noé sucked in a deep breath, the corners of his lips tugging down despite the bright flush that still adorned his cheeks. His brows furrowed as Vanitas shouted.
“That’s...That’s... That’s just not possible! Humans and vampires are foul, loathsome, disgusting, wretched creatures, and I’m the worst of them all—there’s no way anyone would fall for me, and if they did, it would only mean that they’re even more horrible for thinking I’m—for thinking I’m—!” He sputtered, the words escaping him before he could stop it, the growl in his tone burning its way through each word before screeching to a halt. He couldn’t breathe. “You’re absolutely abhorrent, Noé.”
Each word serrated Noé like a knife until he was nothing more than a bleeding creature before him. His eyes stung with bitter tears, and his throat tightened painfully as he tried and failed to catch his breath.
“Okay,” Noé whispered, unable to speak any louder.
Gritting his teeth, Vanitas turned on his heels and jumped from the tower to the nearest rooftop, nearly losing his footing as he ran over the shingles as fast as his legs would carry him. Noé merely watched as he made his escape, unable to move his body to follow him. Oh, how he wanted to follow him—but something told him we wouldn’t like that. So, he resigned to letting him run.
Throwing himself through the hotel window, Vanitas slammed with shutters closed and drew the curtains tightly before making his way to the entrance and bolting the door shut, locking the chain for good measure, and finally making a beeline to the bathroom. He wasn’t a messy crier, truly, but this entire experience was foreign to him. Sliding down the wall to collapse on the cold floor, Vanitas curled his legs against his chest and wrapped his arms around himself, sobs beginning to wrack his frame.
And as Noé leaned against the brick pillar at his back, and as his own tears began to overflow, he began to wonder if he just had his heart broken.