Archive of Our Own

When Omen woke up in the middle of the night, there was an unexplainable tickle in his throat.

He was on a mission in the Russian arctic, and he and his crew were hunkered down in an abandoned bunker on the site. Omen woke up sporadically throughout the night, the final time being when he felt a small, velvety thing in the back of his throat. Rising from his sleeping bag and creeping towards the bathroom, he hacked and spat into the sink to find a blue flower petal, dampened with saliva and blood. The sight of it and the tangy metallic taste in his throat made him grimace. 

‘Was this some sort stupid joke?’  he pondered in annoyance. His team knew very well that he was the last person they should be pulling pranks on. 

The wraith looked at himself in the mirror, pulling down his hood and examining the shadowy and corrupt figure before him. He opened his jagged, sharp mouth, inspecting his monstrous teeth and the purple void that was his throat, seeing that it was tainted with blood. 

“What the actual fuck?

Leaning forward and peering into the reflective glass, he could see something green sticking out in the back of his pharynx. Omen’s breath hitched at the sight of this, and that’s when he realized just how painful it was to breathe. He clawed at his neck, feeling the foreign object lodged in his throat, and decided that he had never felt a greater discomfort in his life.

tap tap tap

A rapping at the door brought him back to reality.

His unhinged jaw snapped back into place and he pulled his hood up, growling and turning on the faucet to rinse the bloody foliage down the sink. He turned around quickly, cracking the door ajar to see a concerned Sage staring back at him through the slit.

“Omen? Are you alright? I heard your coughing. You must have gotten a cold from being out here, I knew I should’ve made you wear a jacket!” whispered Sage in regret, her brown orbs staring up at him in worry.

The shadow just stood there in silence, internally debating on telling Sage what was happening. She’d definitely know what to do, she was the healer after all...

“S’just a cough, don’t make it a big deal” he murmured, shoving the bathroom door open and pushing past her. He had to stifle another cough, as talking was making his throat feel like shit.

Sage just wasn't buying it. She shoved her leg in front of him to block him. Putting her hands together as she had been doing for many years, she created a green orb of healing, offering it forward to her teammate. She dispersed the energy into Omen, who just stared dumbly back at her.

“Thank you Sage, I'm better. Rest now, I will keep watch” he says, feigning relief. She gave him a lipped smile and they went their separate ways, Omen to the window and Sage back to the sleeping grounds.

---

It was 2 days later when Omen expelled the head of an entire rose from his esophagus. It was 6 AM and he was back at base brushing his teeth, when he suddenly buckled over the sink with a violent wheeze. His toothbrush fell to the floor with a clatter and he gripped at the counter to support himself. Foamy white toothpaste turned red as he watched in horror to see a blue, bloody rose sitting comfortably on the drain.  After he rinsed out his mouth and composed himself, he picked up the flower and washed it out in the water. Omen held the delicate thing in his claws, turning it around and examining it under the fluorescent bathroom lights.

“This came from inside of me?” he grumbled in confusion.

Omen wasn't known to panic, but right now, he felt like it.

Kicking the bathroom door open, he darted over towards his bedside table and grabbed at his phone. Opening the browser app, he mumbled to himself as he typed into the search bar; 

''why am i coughing up flowers?''

There were a handful of results, most of which being in Japanese. He sighed in frustration, until he scrolled further down to find an article in English.

"Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from unrequited love, where the patient’s respiratory system will fill up with flowers. They will then proceed to throw and cough up the petals, or entire flower heads. One of the only ways for the disease to ‘disappear’ is if the victim’s love reciprocates their feelings.

The infection can also be removed through surgery, though the feelings disappear along and can never return. The surgery may also make it impossible for the victim to fall in love ever again. If they choose neither options- or the feeling is not returned in time, the patient will eventually suffocate. The type of flower may indicate the type of love.

The term hanahaki comes from the Japanese words hana (花), which means " flower ", and hakimasu (吐きます), which means " to throw up " . Cases can last from weeks to months, rarely going further as the patient often dies."

Omen skimmed over the article in horror, wondering who he could possibly  love. How is that even possible for him? He wasn't human.

He wracked his brain for an answer, when he suddenly erupted into a coughing fit, covering his mouth with one hand and putting the other on the edge of his bed as he fell to his knees. A small splatter of crimson flew forward and onto the wood floor, a green leaf and royal blue petals following with it. 

"Dammit..." he hissed, looking down at the slimy mess of saliva and blood. 

He then remembered what the article said about surgically removing the flowers, and the consequences.

His feelings would permanently disappear, and he would never fall in love again.

---

"Yes, I'm familiar with the disease. I've healed many people with it before..." recounts Sage, dreamily. Omen sat across from her on a cot in the medbay, arms folded sassily across his chest as he listened to her speak.

"Okay, well, I need you to fix me. Right now." growls the wraith, a sense of urgency in his voice. 

''But you do realize the repercussions of this, yes? Would you not like to try to express your feelings to her, first?" Sage reasons, a small smile on her face as she clasps her hands together. "Love is a bountiful thing. Almost everyone I healed regretted it afterwards.''

The man scoffs, ''I don't know who it is."

"Well, it must be someone from work, yes? As I cannot imagine you interact with many women outside of here." says the healer, back turned to Omen as she rummages through the medicine cabinet.

Omen just frowned. "I... have no idea who it could be, Sage. I've never felt attracted to a woman before." he admits. He can't help but feel small and pathetic as he says that.

She turns to face him, her bright and sincere demeanor never faltering as she hands him a small bottle of pills.

"Man or  woman, there is someone you hold dear to your heart. Find them, Omen. Only then will I help you, if they don't reciprocate I will heal you."

Her words, although sincere, greatly displease the shadowy being.

"You don't understand, love is a hindrance. I am not human like the rest of you, it's not something I need. It is a burden."

Sage hums softly. " I just don't want you to be miserable, Omen. I think you deserve some light."

Omen gets up and leaves, slamming the door behind him. He leaves the pills behind, forgotten on the cot.

---

At dinner, Omen is picking at his food absentmindedly. He pokes at the piece of unidentifiable meat with his fork, looking a the holes left behind and seeing the white of the plate underneath. The sudden appearance of a presence at his side makes him look up, seeing his best friend looking back down at him.

"The chicken is already dead, Omen. You don't need to stab it more" chuckles Cypher, putting his hand on Omen's shoulder and sitting himself down beside him.

Omen doesn't respond, and instead goes rigid at his friend's touch. This alerts the informant who slowly removes his hand from the wraith.

"Hey, you okay? You haven't done that since I first started bugging you all those years ago" he notes, raising his water glass to his mouth and taking a sip.

"I'm..." Omen turns to face Cypher, who tilts his head at him in confusion.

"...you're...?" continues the man, waving his glass expectantly.

"Hanahaki, Cypher. I... have hanahaki."

There's an unceremonial moment of silence. 

"Congratulations, I think?" replies the surveillant, with a snort. ''I don't exactly know what that is, my friend."

"A disease."

Cypher spits out his drink, sputtering water all over the table in front of him. A few of the agents turn their heads at the duo in confusion, before going back to minding their own business at their own tables.

"Woah, wait... You're kidding, right?" Cypher turns to Omen, scanning his face. Omen stares back at him, letting Cypher read him.

"You're not. Is it serious? Wait, let's go somewhere else." the Moroccan stands up, nudging his head towards the exit.

The men walk until they're standing in an unobtrusive area of the building, outside of a supply closet. 

"It's deadly, yes." Omen says, slowly. He can't see how Cypher's face contorts with worry under his mask. 

He explains how the disease is rare, and how it's a result of unrequited love. He describes the blue roses, the suffocation, and the cure.

"So... who is it?" Cypher whispers, his gaze fixed on the floor as he shoves his hands in his pocket. 

Omen just sighs in frustration. "That's the thing, Cypher. I don't know- but you're my best friend, so I was hoping you'd have an idea..."

Cypher goes quiet. 

"It's fine if you don't. I'll just have to figure it out mysel-"

"-Wait," interrupts Cypher "what about... Viper? You've known her the longest."

Omen stops to think. He did  have history with Sabine, having known her since before VALORANT. He had many reservations about her, but most of them were unpleasant.

The shadow shakes his head no. Cypher takes a breath, one that almost sounds like relief. He guesses again.

"Alright, how about Reyna then? You guys do have a pretty heated rivalry." he says, hand under his chin inquisitively.

Reyna... She was very powerful, but chaotic. He found her unbalanced.

"Don't think so."

Cypher deadpans. "Raze? Jett? Sage? Skye? Killjoy?" he tries.

"Raze and Jett are maniacs. Sage is too pure, Killjoy is too nerdy, and Skye is..."

"Too wild?" Cypher finishes. Omen just nods.

They stayed there in silence as Cypher tries to think of any women Omen could possibly know. When he realizes he cant, he speaks.

"Could it be... a guy?" he turns to face Omen, who is trying his hardest to not meet Cypher's gaze.

"That's possible. I've... never been in love, but I don't think I would care about their gender." he admits, sliding down the wall and putting his arms on his knees.

Cypher goes quiet. Omen looks up at him and sees him gazing into the distance, visibly distracted. They stay in silence for a few minutes, before he finally speaks.

"I, ah... I was in love. Me and Nora..." he trails off, suddenly feeling insecure about his words.

Omen feels his heart sink at the mention of Cypher's wife. He remembered the man was a widower, as he'd mentioned to him long ago before- but he never talked about her.

The ghost felt slightly honored that his friend was opening up about it, but then a wave of jealousy washed over him when realized that Cypher loved someone else.

"It's when you strongly value and yearn for someone. In a romantic context, it's usually only one person. They're the most important person to you in the world, and you trust them with everything." Cypher talks with such passion, just gazing into the distance as he chooses his words carefully. "You always want to be with that person, and you would do anything for them...to protect them..." 

The man's voice waivers, and his breath hitches. Omen takes note, and turns to his friend.

"Cypher... I'm sorry. You don't have to keep going-"

The man sniffles and takes a deep breath, raising his head to catch his tears. "It's okay, Omen. Just... think about if there's anyone who fits that description." He rises to his feet, and begins to walk away.

When Cypher disappears from Omen's field of view, he immediately erupts into another fit. He presses his hand over his mouth, wheezing in pain as he feels something hurl itself into his palm. When he looks down into his hand, there's a small puddle of blood, blue petals floating around in it.

---

It's been 7 days since Russia, and Omen is now coughing up at least 3-5 flowerheads a day. He stares down at the blue roses in his waste can in disgust as he lays in bed.

If he knew love would be so fucking painful, he would've never fallen in it.

The worst part? Omen figured out who it is he loves, and it's the one person he knows he can't have.

Speaking of the devil, there's a knock on his door.

"Omen, I come bearing gifts!" says Cypher, in a sing-song voice. 

The wraith growls, pulling his pillow over his head. His temples were pounding.

The unlocked door creaked open, and in strides Cypher holding a cup of coffee.

"Dark roast. Black. Just how you like it'' he says, setting it on Omen's bedside table.

Omen couldn't help but smile- the man really did know him well, sometimes better than he knew himself.

Cypher's cheery expression twists into one of panic when he looks down and catches the site of bloodied roses in the garbage. Running a hand through his dark hair, he sighs.

"Have you figured out who it is you love yet?" the man plops himself onto the bed beside Omen, turning to face the wraith. His brows are furrowed as he studies his friend's face. Omen just grunts in response, which Cypher takes as a 'yes'.

The man forces a weak smile, "Good, who is it? You need to tell them soon, Omen" 

"I.. can't" he murmurs "He-they love someone else."

"Oh...I'm sorry, Omen. That's the worst." Cypher sits up as he whispers, crossing his legs and reaching over to pick up the coffee. "Here, drink"

Omen shuffles his body, letting Cypher bring his bruised hand to cup Omen's face and guide the cup to his mouth. When he's done, Cypher lets Omen hold it in his hands.

"So, roses, huh?" he says, peering into the trash. "I've never seen blue ones in person before..."

"The worst possible flower to get, apparently. I can feel the thorns every time I breathe." complains Omen, rubbing his throat.

Cypher inhales sharply, imagining the pain his friend was probably undergoing. "Roses... are very popular in Morocco." he says, dreamily. "Nora had a garden of them..."

Just as Cypher mentioned her, Omen felt an intense pain strike deep in his lungs. He wheezed, almost spilling his coffee as he inhales deeply in an attempt to let air into his lungs.

"Hey, hey, take it easy," Cypher coos gently, taking the coffee and setting it back onto the table. He inches closer towards the wraith, rubbing his back as Omen coughed vigorously into the garbage can.

His throat was on fire. He could taste the blood in his throat, and the floral aroma of roses overtook him. With every breath he took, the pain got sharper. He tried holding his breath, but that just made it worse when he gasped for air.

He felt like complete shit. Wiping the blood from his mouth, he looked down to see that he had just threw up an entire rose- stem, leaves, and all. The intense blue was covered with splotches of red, creating an almost purple shade in those spots. The jagged thorns were bloodied and the stem was contorted. Cypher stood up quickly in shock, his eyes wide open.

"Shit, Omen. This is bad, really bad. It's getting worse. We need to go to Sage-"

"No." he growled, his voice as rough as gravel. He fights back another cough, making a strained noise of pain instead.

Cypher doesn't understand Omen's refusal to go to Sage.

"Why?! I don't want you to die, you're my best friend " he hisses, putting his hands on Omen's shoulders.

'You fool, that's the problem. We're only friends...' 

"I am not going to Sage" retorts Omen.

Cypher furrows his brows, "Don't you want to get the surgery?" 

Omen goes quiet, confirming Cypher's suspicion. 

"You... don't want to stop loving them, do you?" he sighs, walking towards the garbage can. "Are they worth losing your life over?! Look what they're doing to you!"

Cypher snatches a rose from the bin, examining it in his hands. It's an incredibly vibrant shade of blue. He sighs, rubbing his hand along the stem carefully.

"Blue roses... they aren't conceivable in nature. They represent the impossible, the unobtainable..." he trails, turning back to his friend. Omen just stares back at him, sourly.

"I can't imagine my life without the person, Cypher- and what's another death?" Omen says, flatly.

Cypher just shakes his head, tossing the rose on the floor and walking towards the door. "Please, Omen. Just get the surgery, or tell them how you feel. But don't die on me."

When the door shuts, Omen feels that familiar tickle in his throat again.

---

It's been 12 days since he first found himself throwing up flowers, and Omen collapses during a mission in Venice.

He's hunched over in the boathouse alone, his throat raw and bruised as petal after petal floated down onto the muddy floor. The signature scent of roses was overwhelming him once again, to the point where it was the only thing he could focus on.

Aromatic, light, floral... but bloodied and violent at the same time. His hood was pulled back, his hands holding him up as he was on his knees trying to not completely collapse.

He heard gunshots and explosions in the background, which only worsened his headache. It felt like there was cotton in his head. Slowly, he pushed himself up in attempt to stand.

'They're fighting... damned clones... they need me... get up, Omen'  he pleaded with himself, shaking all the while as he struggled.

Omen felt his eyes burn, the familiar sting of tears threatening to fall overwhelming him. He hated this. He hated every part of this.

The coughing, the fits, the damned flowers, the blood, the pain, the way Cypher looked at him like he was some fragile creature that needed to be cared for...

His vision was blurred. He could barely see in front of him. The bright blue petals contrasted with the ground. He wanted to step on them, he wanted to smash them into the dirt until they weren't blue anymore.

The wraith couldn't hear the sound of squelching footsteps in the mud running towards him, only realizing the presence of someone when they knelt to his side and took him in their arms.

"Omen- Omen, are you alright? Look at me. Breathe deep"

It's Sabine. 

She sucked in a pained breath when she saw the bloodied roses on the floor, her strikingly green eyes darkening.

"How long?" the chemist hissed, rummaging through her bag and pulling out a canteen of water. She guided it to Omen's mouth as she helped him take a sip.

"...Since Russia" he replies, letting the woman practically pour the water down his throat for him. He didn't care that Viper could see his monstrous face; she was there when he became this way.

Viper paused, replaying the past few weeks back in her mind. "Icebox- that mission was almost 2 weeks ago. Have you seen Sage?" she inquires, lips pursed.

Omen just nods, trying his best to hold in the coughs that threaten to erupt from his body. He trembles as he does, like tree branches in the wind.

He was just grateful that she seemed to be familiar with his condition. Saved him the pain of explaining.

"Well, I hate to do this to you, but we've been ordered to retreat. Brim's orders from base. Raze was able to hold back the clones enough for us to escape. Breach and Cypher are injured, so we need to leave. Can you stand?" 

Upon hearing the sentinel's name, Omen feel something curve against his windpipe.

"Cypher is injured?" he sputters, shakily rising to his feet. "L-let me see him." He's trying ever so desperately to hold it down. A blue rose.

Viper quickly shoots up with him, hands carefully floating around his figure to support him. She kisses her teeth with a tch.

"Minorly injured- just a broken arm. When we get back to base, you will confess to him. If he somehow doesn't feel the same way, I'm going to make Sage fix you"

Her gaze was determined, and her raven hair swayed in the wind. Omen didn't have time to wonder how Sabine knew it was Cypher, because she was already practically dragging him to the others. 

---

It's been 14 days since Omen learned that blue roses existed, and he's visiting the man he loves in the medbay.

Cypher shoots him a toothy grin when he sees Omen walk into the room, and he raises his now-casted arm. The white plaster that covered his left arm in an L shape had scribbling on it from where his fellow agents had signed it.

Omen sees Cypher's smile, and immediately wants to throw up an entire garden. But he forces it down- for the sake of his friend.

"Sage thinks it's best that I let it heal naturally along with her powers- it'll heal completely that way" says the Moroccan, tracing over the grooves in the cast. "That damned Reyna clone- she was no where near as scary as our Reyna."

Omen hums. Cypher reaches towards the desk to his side, grabbing a black permanent marker and offering towards him. "C'mon, I told them to leave space for you" he chuckles. 

The wraith stares at the Sharpie in the mans hand, and obliges. He pops open the cap and Cypher leans over to him to allow him to write.

He scribbles his name in large, bold letters onto the empty surface. Examining their co-workers signatures, he sees that they also drew little doodles and images on the man's cast.

Feeling that his name looks bleak compared to theirs, he begins to sketch.

"I didn't know you were an artist, Omen!" the intrigue in his friend's voice and the way he's dreamily gazing as Omen works fills his body with a fuzzy sensation- although its probably just the feeling of flowers growing in his respiratory system. He carefully sketches intricate lines that spiraled, sharp yet curved shapes folding into themselves in a bunch as petals.

Working on the stem, he details the jagged, painful thorns that grow up along it. A stem that drags across his throat every time he breathes...

Cypher stares wordlessly as Omen continues to draw.

He adds plump leaves that feather out, veins growing along them symmetrically. 

Omen decides he's done, and pulls his hand back. They both look down at the remarkably realistic sketch of a single rose, stem and all.

The shadow had never been an artist- but he had the figure of the rose memorized like the back of his hand. Everything he drew was exactly as he felt it when it shot up and out of his mouth.

"A... rose?" the informant inquired, his voice slightly trembling.

Omen doesn't see the horrified look of realization that washes over his friend's face, because he's falling.

His chair tips over, and Omen crashes against the floor, unable to breathe as he hacks and sputters like a cat coughing up a hairball. Colliding with the floor knocks the wind out of him.

The last thing he hears before he fades into unconsciousness is Cypher calling Sage's name.

---

It's been 15 days since he coughed for the first time, and he wakes up in a bed that isn't his own.

As he begins to sit up, he feels a strong arm slowly push him back down. It's Cypher, sitting in a chair by his side with an unreadable look on his face.

"No, don't. Just rest" he murmurs.

Omen huffs. He stares up at the ceiling in monotony. The air in the room is grim, tension clear as day.

"Why aren't I in the medbay?" he finally asks, eyes still fixated on the ceiling.

"I asked Sage to let me take care of you..." Cypher's voice trails, and he scratches the back of his head sheepishly.

Omen just nods. "Right."

The silence that follows is nothing short of uncomfortable.

Eventually Cypher's eyes gloss over, and he turns to Omen. "When were you going to tell me?"

The wraith blinks in confusion. Cypher stands up from his chair, pointing at his cast. Omen's lowers his gaze and sees the rose he drew yesterday. His heart sinks.

"This- you, God, Omen... it's me, isn't it?" his wet eyes stared into Omen's hood, searching, trying to pinpoint his emotion. Omen doesn't let him.

Cypher's guess is confirmed by the other man's stillness. He sighs deeply, immediately turning away and rubbing his head.

"I can't help it, Cypher. I didn't know until you explained to me what the hell love even was, and then it all made sense" he started, "but your heart lies with someone else-"

Omen interrupts himself as he retches, gripping the sheets tightly. Cypher instinctively pulls a bucket from the side of the bed and holds it in front of the shadow, patting his back awkwardly as blood and vegetation hits the bottom with a disgusting splat.

When he pulls back, he catches a glimpse of the sad, pitying look on his friend's face.

And he decides he absolutely fucking hates it.

"Don't- don't look at me like that, Cypher. I don't want your pity, I'm not some sick animal you need to take care of" the wraith slaps the man's hand away from him.

"You're my friend, of course I'm taking care of you-"

"I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND!" Omen's outburst startles the both of them.

Cypher takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he chooses his next words carefully.

"Then what do you want, Omen?"

'The surgery, I want the fucking surgery'  his mind is yelling at him.

But the shadowy, dark void in Omen's chest where a man's heart should be-it screams otherwise.

He raised claw to his chest, feeling the quickened pumping behind his ribcage, and closes his eyes.

His traitorous heart tells him he wants to be with Cypher, in a way that he feels like he shouldn't. The feelings are embarrassingly human.

He wants to eat dinner with him in the mess hall everyday, like they always do.

He wants to listen to Cypher sing lowly to himself in Arabic as he works on his gadgets, reading a book on his bed like they did some nights.

He wants to kill clones and protect radianite with Cypher by his side, guns blazing as the unstoppable pair that they were on every mission together.

He wants to stare at Cypher's unmasked face all day, a sight that only he had the privilege of seeing behind closed doors.

But he also wants to do things that friends just don't do;

To hold Cypher's hands in his own, rub his bandaged thumbs over the man's knuckles.

To put his mouth on his, knowing well that a kiss from Cypher would warm the frigid cold of his soul.

To feel Cypher's breath against his neck, the man whimpering underneath him with his eyes rolled back in a state of bliss.

'I can't love'  he thinks, 'I'm not capable.' 

Yet there he was, in love and dying from it.

"I made a promise to myself, after I lost my family, I said I wouldn't love anyone else again." the informant says, sniffling.

"Why are you telling me this?!" snarls the ghost, "I don't need you to rub salt in my wounds."

"Do you really  love me?" Cypher boldly grabs the side of Omen's face with his uninjured hand, pulling his face closer to his own.

Omen swallows the lump in his throat, "Yes" he breathes.

"Say it, Omen. I need to hear it" Cypher's voice is demanding, his gaze is determinedly staring into Omen's slits.

He can't even begin to understand why Cypher would do something so cruel; force him to profess his love again when it  wasn't requited. 

Defeatedly, he sighs. "I love you, Cypher."

The man's eyes flicker, but Omen cant tell what it means. He may just be imagining it, but it feels like the space between them is closing...

Cypher tilts his head and a sad smile creeps onto his face. His pained expression makes Omen feel like dying right then and there.

"I'm so sorry." Cypher voice is small, like an uncharacteristic whimper. 

"It... doesn't matter that you don't love me. I'll have the surgery." Omen grabs Cypher's forearm and pulls his hand off of his face.

But the other man only leans in closer, "No- don't misunderstand me, Omen. It's not that I don't love you, it's that I cant."

"What difference does it make? " He feels something rising in his throat. He grabs the bucket again. Cypher lets him.

"I just, I didn't think I would ever have it in me," Cypher starts. "to love someone again. But then I came here, and I met everyone, all of our friends..."

Omen just listens with his face buried in the bucket, his throat raw with the taste of pennies. Petal after petal, leaf after leaf, how much blood was he losing?

His eyes felt like they were bulging out of his skull. His ears were ringing, his head felt like it was a clouded mass...

"...and then I met you, and I-"

Stop. Stop. Just stop.

Don't.

Please.

You don't have to lie.

Don't lie to me.

I'm not worth it.

Omen's breathing becomes erratic. He's hunched over, wheezing, hacking, gasping for air. The room is spinning, his vision is blurry, he's dying...

"S-Sage" he croaks out, "n-need Sage... surgery..."

"Will you just LISTEN to me, Omen?! Look at me. Look at me. You don't need Sage." his hand is square against Omen's chest.

Cypher pulls him back up. He leans in, even closer than before. Their faces were only inches apart now. Omen can see the shine in Cypher's eyes, his determined look as if he's about to do something important. He can hear his heartbeat, he can smell his apple-scented shampoo...

The man lifts his hand and tugs on Omen's hood. The wraith doesn't have the energy to protest.

Omen feels naked. He feels ashamed. He was sure the watchdog knew what was underneath his hood, but Cypher could see everything now, highlighted under the light.

The scars, the shadows, his mangled features... his monstrous form. And Cypher just smiles.

He tilts his head and smashes his lips against Omen's. His eyes are screwed shut, but he does it with such passion. Omen is frozen in disbelief. The warmth...

A thing he wanted to do that friends didn't do.

Omen can't comprehend what's happening, but he doesn't care. The war in his throat felt like nothing. All he could feel was his coldness being melted away.

Cypher presses into him more, making Omen slowly ease back into the bed. 

More than the blood and the roses, he can taste the sweetness of Cypher's lips. Tasted like honey. Smelled like spice.

Omen is leaning back on the bed, holding himself up with his elbows with Cypher straddled on top of him, cupping his face and doing magic with his mouth. His thoughts were running a mile a minute, and his heart was racing- but in a good way.

He couldn't believe it, he had never felt anything so intense. His breath was being swallowed and he felt himself burning so hot that even Phoenix wouldn't be able to compare.

When Cypher finally broke the kiss, a trail of spit connecting their mouths, Omen took a deep breath as if he'd never felt air in his lungs before, and it felt good.

"How... do you feel?" the man asked, breathlessly. Omen's brain felt like it was short-circuiting.

The shadow sat there with his best friend on top of him, unable to process anything.

"Listen to me carefully" Cypher starts, putting his forehead against Omen's and staring into his eyes, "I did make that promise, yes, and it made me unaccepting of these feelings I've had for so long. I thought I could live this way, but if accepting them will save you-" 

"What are you saying?" Finally, Omen speaks. His mouth runs dry.

"What I'm saying  is that I love you, Omen. Ana ouḥibouka.''

He doesn't understand the last part, but assumes it means something similar in Arabic.

Omen just closes his eyes, and he smiles. He laughs. It's a guttural sound, like everything that came from Omen's mouth- but it's a pleasant sound.

He cant see the look of triumph on Cypher's face when he sees Omen being happy for the first time.

They just sat there, entangled, grinning from ear to ear.

---

Sage walks up to Cypher's door, a grim expression on her face. She had come to get Omen to perform the surgery.

Just as she raises her fist to the door to knock, she realizes she can hear the sound of laughter coming from the inside.

The woman presses herself against the door. It's her two friends talking, laughing, enjoying themselves.

She smiles. She wont be needed tonight.