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“Oh, there you two are!” said Amelia, her countenance sparking to life at the sight of Vanitas and Noé trudging down the hall towards their room door. “I’ve been waiting to give you a message, but I didn’t expect for you to get here at such a late hour,” she admitted.
“Ah, forgive us, Mademoiselle Amelia,” Noé said, always the conversationalist. “We got caught up in some business.”
“You got lost and I had to find you, moron,” Vanitas growled as his shoulders slouched further. “Not to mention it’s so cold outside I even thought of abandoning you a few times.”
A quirked smile adorned Amelia’s features as she watched the two of them argue, their coats covered in a layer of snowflakes and boots trailing icy particulate over the floor. Winter was finally beginning to settle in over Paris, and it could be felt all throughout its inhabitants—much to the chagrin of one particularly irritable vampire-specialist.
“You said you had something to tell us, Amelia?” Noé asked, turning away from a fuming Vanitas to face the young woman standing in front of the door.
“Ah, yes,” she began, fidgeting with her fingers behind her back as she spoke. “Well, I have some good news and some bad news about your room... You see, the hotel is undergoing renovations to accommodate more modern technology, and today some men came by to install a new astermite-fueled furnace in your suite.”
“Thank the stars above, I think I’m freezing to death as we speak.” Vanitas grumbled, gripping his coat tighter over his shoulders.
Amelia looked askance, rocking on her heels. “U-Um, yes, about that...” As the two men stared at her expectantly, Amelia hid her face behind her hands. “There was an accident. One of the gentlemen was unaware of Murr, and, he, um... He tried to get away from him, and knocked the furnace in the process.”
“Ugh, that is just my luck! It broke, didn’t it?”
“The furnace, um, wasn’t the only thing that broke...”
At that, Vanitas pushed Amelia aside—Noé caught her by the waist, steadying her before following his partner—and flung the door open, making a beeline for his and Noé’s shared living space only to find that his bed had been removed entirely from the room. As he slowly turned to face the poor woman, his eyes glared daggers into her soul.
“Amelia?”
“Y-Yes?”
“Where’s my bed?”
She sputtered, looking everywhere except for Vanitas himself, his bitterness cold enough to give the weather outside a run for its money. “It, um, was a casualty, sir.” He quirked a brow, and she felt a chill run down her spine. “Y-You’ll have a new one tomorrow, Monsieur Vanitas! Along with the new furnace! We’re deeply sorry for the inconvenience!” she shouted, bowing her head to the floor.
“Don’t shoot the messenger, Vanitas. Thank you for letting us know, Mademoiselle. You should go get some sleep now—I’m sure you’re quite tired!” Noé said, attempting to soothe the situation. Amelia thanked him for his kindness, bowing at him as well before taking her leave. Noé looked at Vanitas from the corner of his vision as Murr hopped onto his shoulder.
“Just when I was finally going to sleep indoors...”
“You can have mine.”
“Pardon?”
Noé slid his coat over his shoulders, hanging it on a peg beside the door as Murr rubbed his head against his legs. “I sleep inside every night—I can bear a night on the floor,” he said, the nonchalance in his tone irking Vanitas further.
Removing his own coat and other effects, Vanitas’s eyes remained narrow as he said, “That’s not going to happen either, Noé. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
In a swift movement, Noé strode over to Vanitas and looked down at him with an intensity. “You sleep on the roof every night, so sleep in my bed!”
“I refuse!”
“I refuse your refusal!”
“That’s—! That’s not how—!” As Vanitas continued to sputter and gesticulate, Noé merely continued preparing to sleep. Sliding past Vanitas, he entered the bathroom to brush his teeth and change, the man continuing to air his grievances outside the door. The more he spoke, the more Noé began to notice a trend in his speech. It was all “Noé, that’s not how this works!” this, and “Noé, this is all wrong!” that.
As Noé exited the bathroom, Vanitas made his way inside. He was still grumbling to himself on the other side of the door, which, oddly enough, brought a gentle smile to Noé’s face.
Once Vanitas was finished, he opened the door with a flourish. “And another thing—!” he began, screeching to a halt once he saw Noé sitting on the only surviving bedframe. “What?”
“I think you like to argue for the sake of arguing,” Noé admitted, gazing sidelong at him.
“That’s preposterous! What on Earth made you think that?! I have never—” Noé arched a brow, and the words halted in Vanitas’ throat. “Fine, fine. I can be agreeable.”
“Can you? Do you think you can even go one night without arguing with me?”
This was already a challenge.
“Yes.”
“Wonderful,” Noé said, the ghost of a smirk toying over his lips as he turned towards the head of the bed. “Then this is your pillow, and this is mine.”
Vanitas paused.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“We’re sharing the bed, Vanitas.”
A million and one retorts flew this his head at record speed, only to be kept in line by biting the inside of his cheek. “What point are you trying to make here?” he finally asked, cheeks dusting pink as he clenched his fists at his side.
“That you refuse to do what’s best for you unless forced. And so I’m forcing you,” Noé said, his tone surprisingly even despite his words.
He pursed his lips tightly, fighting against the insults searing in his brain and the thundering of his heart against his chest. “Fine, but I get the edge.”
Noé smiled—a genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners—and flopped down against his designated spot beside the wall. As Vanitas went to join the vampire, he tried desperately to maintain a resigned expression. He only hoped Noé knew how to keep to himself at night...
And the two lay in bed together, Vanitas gazing at the ceiling as he lay on his back, Noé doing the same at his side. Even with the layers of blankets thrown on top of them, the room was bitterly cold; the blue hue of the moonlight only made the room feel icier. Vanitas couldn’t help as his body began to shiver, and with his shoulder pressed firmly against Noé’s, he was certain the man at his side was aware of this.
Thankfully, Noé said nothing, his silence releasing a tension in his breath as more shivers wracked his frame. The last thing he could handle at this time was Noé pressing him about his body’s reaction to the cold. Still, did Vanitas really find it so annoying when Noé showed concern for him?
His cheeks flushed crimson. Of course he did! People should mind their damn business, even Noé. The thought alone of Noé showing genuine concern for him was... was...
“Vanitas?”
...Revolting. It had to be, the only alternative being...
“Vanitas!”
Jerking into the present, Vanitas turned to look at the vampire beside him. “What the devil is wrong with you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he lay stiff as a board.
While Vanitas had been in his anger-fueled reverie, Noé had shifted to his side and was currently gazing at the man with a horrible honesty. His light brows furrowed, his expression pulling taut as he watched for Vanitas’ reaction. “Your teeth are chattering,” he murmured, his voice somehow deeper than Vanitas remembered. “You’re shivering, too.”
“So?” Had he been?
In the silence that followed, Noé’s fingers touched Vanitas’ arm from under the covers—the skin was cold as ice, and his body was shivering so intensely that he couldn’t pull himself from the vampire’s touch. Without another word, Noé maneuvered his arms around Vanitas’ chilled frame, wrapping one over his chest and another behind his shoulders as he pulled the man against him, shifting the both of them so that they lay on their sides.
Vanitas squirmed for a moment, but the warmth radiating from Noé’s chest was too enticing. He soon allowed himself to be swaddled by his heat, the exhaustion of the day hitting him all at once as he melted into Noé’s embrace. Behind him, Noé nuzzled is face against the crook of his neck, squeezing him tighter as he fell into a deep slumber.
Despite whatever his internal voice might say, Vanitas could not deny the comfort of the experience—and in the back of his mind, in a secluded section untouched by his own fetters and restraints, he hoped the two of them would find themselves in this position once again.