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As though having heard someone’s calls, Noè heads towards the dining room. It is already 9pm at night, snow is falling to the floor quietly and the gas lamps float along either side of the hallway, apparitional. Elucidating the paintings with a sinister shadow. Noè hurriedly walked across the hallway holding a box. Soon entering through the doors. His senses filling with mistletoe and peppermint,
“Ah! Mon Chèri” smiled Dominique.
He smiled back and placed the box on the table.
Noè surveyed the room again, the room was partially decorated, the tables were lined with confectionery and the walls had been filled with decorations, the only thing worth noticing was how bare the tree was.
This throat feels oddly parched. He remains deep in thought, thinking to himself. His heart feels heavy as though a heavy stone is weighing it down.
“Is there something wrong?” She takes an expression and seemingly understands.
“You’re worried” breathed Dominique, lowering her voice.
She stepped off the stool and approaches him. The distance between them is less than two meters, she cups his cheek.
“He’s been acting strange lately” admitted Noè.
He raises his head to look at Dominique, leaning into her hand.
“He’s always strange” Interrupted Dante with a slight grumble, placing a stocking above the fireplace.
Dominique chuckles and looks at Noè apologetically. His expression was stiff.
Dominique opened the box Noè had left on the table, pulling out some ornaments for the tree.
“I thought he may perhaps behave differently with you?” Said Dominique, although it seems to be more of a question, than a statement.
“No, we seem to know each other well but he never talks about himself at all,” replied Noè, sounding defeated.
Dominique stared at him for a moment— a single moment. She knew. She sighed.
"Why do you even want him here so badly? He's probably got better things to do than decorate." She deadpanned, sounding a little more harsh than intended
"Could you please hand over the tinsel already? My arms are getting tired."
Noè made a small noise and handed her the tinsel, polishing everything with its shiny, glassy malice.
"I don't think he's experienced a proper Christmas in a while— if at all. You know we haven't as well." Noè let out a deep sigh.
There was a silence that stunned everyone. The fire fizzes and spits; the inside was almost as cold as the outside.
"Can we put the star on top of the tree now? It's almost finished." Badgered Dante, shoving Johann away from the mistletoe.
"Wait, not yet," Noè stated sharply, as if panicked.
"Not until Vanitas is here to witness it.”
He thought for a second. His gaze almost made them feel uncomfortable.
"I want him to do it instead." He said with an odd steadiness.
The world is tougher now— of course, no doubt about it. There are harder choices to be made, with even more dire consequences. They need comfort…Vanitas sure does.
“I should go look for him.”
"Try the Café.” suggested Jeanne, placing a snowglobe on the fireplace.
Noè looked at Dominique, where his gaze lingered.
"Fine, go get him. As long as you don't catch a cold. And be quick." She meant to speak lightly but with the look on his face, she faltered into uncertainty, his eyes were the same mauve as they had always been.
***
A phantom of smells still lingers in the air. The dark, green of the holly cuttings should mean something to him, he knows, but he doesn’t understand it, he couldn’t figure out what it was. His gaze slowly moved around the room, fixing onto the tree in the corner of the squared room. The star on top of it glitters like a meteor.
As he panned around the room, looking for the mischievous man in blue, he noticed Amelia along with the array of tables she had just cleared.
“Mademoiselle Amelia,” said Noè.
“M-Monsieur Noé," Stuttered Amelia,
Noè smiled softly and turned his head to Amelia. Her breathing hitched, finding Noè was already looking at her.
He passed through the string lights that looked like icicles.
His eyes were deep and welcoming as always.
“Have you seen Vanitas?”
Oh…
For a moment she can’t lift her eyes
“He- he just left” she whispered, fiddling with her fingers.
"Do you know where he went?" Asked Noè, almost urgently, his voice nearly betraying him.
"Sorry, he didn't mention anything. He did go that way though." Responded Amelia, hopefully.
Noè glanced at the direction Amelia suggested. In the distance, he caught a glimpse of the hotel.
His eyes reflected the Christmas lights like a mirror.
"Oh, he must be on the roof." Recalled Noè.
"The roof! He must be freezing cold up there." She gasped, feeling worry sweep through her.
"How about I make you both some hot drinks.” She catered,
"A black coffee for Vanitas and for you?"
"I'll have a coffee please, one cream, two sugars.” Requested Noè.
"Coming right up!" she beamed, it seemed forced and laced with worry.
The room went from quiet to a light static. As Amelia steamed the milk, Noè looked outside a blanket of quicklime snow that started to cover the cobblestone, the sky looked bitter, choking the land with a frosty haze. The lanterns' lambent light stole away the velvet-black shadows dancing on the wall. Feathered crystals float from the sky like fractured souls. Noè blinked a few times, rubbing his hands together as he continued to think. A pathetic, inarticulate way of understanding Vanitas. Wondering how he stays warm, when he’s endured trials and headships—
Today seemed to be another hard day.
“One black coffee and a coffee with one cream and two sugars!" Amelia said, smiling, placing the two ripple paper cups on the counter.
"Thank you so much. How much?"
"Don't worry about it, it's on the house.” She conveyed, waving her hand dismissively.
“Tis Christmas after all."
"Thank you,” Noè replied quietly, a small smile stretching his face and a warm fuzziness filling his chest. He reached out and grabbed the warm beverages.
“Merry Christmas Mademoiselle Amelia."
"Merry Christmas Monsieur Noé.” She whispers loudly, placing her cool hand on her cheek to stiffen the heat.
“Oh!” Amelia exclaimed.
"One last thing. Tell Vanitas Merry Christmas."
"Of course." He replied.
The brisk winter air whirls in behind him as he closes the door to the cafè.
His skin was cold, how long was he going to stay on this roof, he didn’t know. Nothing made a sound, nothing stirred and nothing sang. Winter's fangs had come and gone and the last of the stars were twinkling out sadly.
“You’re going to catch an awful cold,” said Noè.
Vanitas stayed voiceless. Noè breathed a heavy sigh, climbing through the window and walking over to Vanitas, obscuring his vision with the coffee cup. Vanitas surreptitiously glanced at Noé, he grabbed the cup and stared out into the distance. The lights danced around in his vision. They didn’t reflect any light into his eyes as it did for Noè.
“Why don’t you come and decorate the tree,” asked Noè, taking a sip of his coffee
“I don’t have much interest for parties,” responded Vanitas, flatly.
“Why?” Faltered Noè,
“Why? The answer is simple.”
Vanitas looked at Noè with eyes as bright as the blue moon and as cold as the night.
“Because I said so. Is that not enough?”
Noè stared at Vanitas… almost in disbelief. Everything seemed to be happening very slowly.
Noè took a set beside him, his legs hanging over the edge.
“What are you doing?” Vanitas said, angrily holding a fiendish gaze
“I fancied my luck to witness another full moon.”
Vanitas rolled his eyes. He could never understand why Noè found the moon mesmerizing, that crescent of a lavender moon, it just turns, spins, rotates and repeats.
Vanitas took a sip of his drink, it’s colder now.
“You can’t stay here any longer, Vanitas.”
Vanitas scoffed, pushing through and finishing his coffee. Black clouds are already starting to gather around the skyline. As he looked at him, it struck Noè how beautiful he was, his hair was coursing in the wind, illuminating in the moonlight, snow flaking in his hair, like constellations.
Noè found himself thinking, holding onto the urge to brush his hair behind his ear— to reach out to see if it’s as soft as it looked. Noè touched his face, ghosting with his fingertips, ready to pull away if Vanitas moved.
“Noè?”
Realizing he’s staring, he clears his throat.
“I…”
He needs to find an excuse for why he’s here.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, placing his hands flat on his lap. He dares to throw another glance at Vanitas.
“Don't worry about it,” said Vanitas casually, his voice thin and slightly…disappointed.
Noè watches him, he had so many things he wished to say but to what extent he did not know.
“You don’t mind?” He asked, moving closer, still being hesitant.
Vanitas tightened his jaw and breathed a laugh,
“Just stay” his voice was off, like he was stifling something. Like he was enduring something….like pain.
“Vanitas…are you hurt?” His tone stayed neutral but his heart skipped a beat.
“I’m fine. I mean as fine as I could be with everything going on,” he said loosely.
Noè said nothing, he was still looking at Vanitas. The moment it was out his mouth he realised how stupid he sounded.
What had he gotten himself into?
When he was a kid, he had always been travelling, always on his feet. Always moving, a new place would mean he is away from his problems.
Vanitas let out a sigh, his expression indifferent.
“When my father sacrificed himself for me, I tried to prove that I was nothing like what he thought of me,”
Vanitas’ face was serious. Almost grave,
“It didn’t work….”
His coat fell from his shoulder, Vanitas didn’t speak loudly, but there was still bitterness— the way he allowed himself to be.
“So I tried to be exactly what he believed I was,”
His vision started to blur. The lights morphed together making him feel dizzy. He stared out into the distance, it’s definitely safer than looking at Noè.
“If he believed I was bad, then I would be worse.”
His hands were shaking. Noè captures them.
“But you're not bad—- you’re inconsistent and sometimes downright selfish but you remain your own person.” Urged Noè,
“You decide your own fate— you make your own choices.”
Vanitas looked at him ready to cry. Not out of pain… or fear, or even need, but because Noè’s words touched the part of his soul that suffers. His eyes were iridescent, like a morpheus butterfly.
“Noè save me,” he began whispering.
Silent tears slid down his face. He felt ashamed, but only a little. Given the whisper Vanitas spoke, tears were logical. Hearing those deep rooted harsh sobs filled Noè with the irrational need to pull Vanitas into his arms and wrap him into a hug. That need buried itself into an unconscious thought.
Noè’s arms slip up, Vanitas could still feel the warm pressure of the vampire's fingers against his skin. He hated feeling vulnerable. He could feel every muscle in his body relax as Noè pushed some hair behind his ear.
“It’s okay” he whispered, unguardedly blooming with safety.
Vanitas stopped breathing, literally stopped breathing for several seconds. All he felt was Noè’s warm presence next to him as he subconsciously buried his head into Noè’s shoulder. His hands clasping onto his shirt. Humiliated.. he felt humiliated.
“I’m sorry” Vanitas rasps, his voice was very human. As if to say, I’m hurting.
“I’m sorry” he said again. His breaths were tumultuous.
“It’s okay” Noè whispered into Vanitas’ hair, his other hand coming up to the back of Vanitas’ head.
“I’m right here for you” murmured Noè.
Vanitas’ lungs ached and his chest rattled, he felt dizzy, he wondered if some part of him knew what was waiting for him.
“You shouldn’t touch me…” Vanitas managed, swallowing back his emotions.
“Are you saying that because you’re scared?” asked Noè, abruptly.
Vanitas made an effort to make an angry face, to yell— to say something but no words would come. His heart was telling him to trust Noè— a vampire. but it wouldn’t be the first time that foolish muscle had betrayed him. He was afraid of giving in to that overwhelming sickness of love, to the point where even the sound of his own heartbeat became deafening.
“No, don’t do that— don’t toy with me,”
The chills came back burning his body.
He has dealt with many people, analyzed many patterns, knew how people would act and how to push their buttons and exploit them.
But he didn’t have to do that for Noè, he felt safe. He didn’t have to act, or put on the facade. Vanitas meets Noè’s eyes again.
“It’s a cruel thing to do, even to someone like me.”
The vampire opened his mouth to speak but failed. He never told Vanitas that he could hear him. his calls for help. The crying. The pleas. everything. Tonight. Tonight he had enough.
“Forget about everything, for one second, and tell me what you feel.”
Despite everything Vanitas scoffed, his face turned sour. how could he say that he tries not to name what he truly feels for him. For Noè, because it’s already too much. Vanitas wants to be alone, he wants to be free. To have salvation.
“There’s nothing to say.”
Noè doesn’t look bothered by Vanitas’ words and the fact that he may have been expecting Vanitas to say it.
“Don't lie.” responded Noè bluntly,
“Do you think this is the way to ease the loneliness you feel?”
Vanitas felt those words kick him in the stomach, he could barely feel his body. He pulled away, the cold sweeping between them. Noè grabbed Vanitas’ wrist, almost desperately.
“Stop fighting me Vanitas,” he said,
“Why do you keep fighting me?” His voice was desperate and full of plea.
“Let go..” muttered Vanitas, he couldn’t even look at the vampire. If he did his words would betray him. His motions were mindless, each one some feeble attempt to detach himself.
“Tell me.” pressed Noè, his voice was rough and harsh.
“What do you want me to say?” His voice was failing him,
“I’d prefer you’d tell me the truth…but what do you need to say?” stated Noè firmly.
Vanitas was stunned, he couldn’t get his words out, he had so many thoughts running through his head, his mind cycling through emotions he doesn’t understand. Every one of them is fighting for dominance. Why is he gripping on so tightly, his palms are bloody and burned, yet he can still feel the chain around his neck.
Noè saw it, he always did. He sees Vanitas for what he really is, all the pain he carries behind those eyes. Behind the mask. It's always been there from the start, he's been trapped in a hurricane of doubt and confusion. The feeling of being invisible, the feeling of not being good enough.
“Vani-“
“Because you don’t think I’m a bad person!” He yelled, his eyes as blue as forget-me-nots.
“And I don’t want to prove you wrong.” he finished, his voice feeling heavy. He was full of profound melancholy. Noé quivered in response, his eyes flaring with shock. Close up he could see the depth of his heart, the things he hasn’t revealed to anyone.
Noè tightened his jaw so tight that his fangs almost shattered.
“I don’t think you’re a bad person,”
Noè was carefully studying Vanitas, Vanitas knew he had said too much. He was done for.
“What do you want?” Asked Noè.
“A moment of peace and quiet” responded Vanitas,
He wanted to care, he wanted to care so badly, but there was this gap between what he felt and what he wanted to feel,
“Let me rephrase,” breathed Noè.
“What do you need?”
Everything turned so quiet. It was never about what he wanted but what he needed.
Vanitas opened his mouth to speak but his words were trapped in his throat, he swallowed.
“I don’t want to die alone.” Vanitas admitted, his voice wobbling. He looked at Noè again, forcing himself to meet his gaze.
Quickly, Vanitas realized there was nowhere to go, nowhere left to run, he felt more as the tears fell. He was tired— tired of running away, tired of pretending things were okay when they never had been.
“That won’t happen!” Said Noè.
“Trust me.” he finished in one breath.
Everything passes…
“I didn’t think you liked me that much…”
Everything perishes...
“At first definitely, but now it’s different,”
"We've gone from basically two strangers who must deal with each other to partners. We made cheating death sound so simple.”
Noè chucked, it almost seemed inconsiderate.
“We do seem awfully good at that.”
Vanitas started to chuckle, it was getting louder and louder becoming more frantic. It sent a shiver down the vampire's spine and planted a sickening feeling in his stomach. He watched as
tears fell from Vanitas’ eyes. He desperately tries to breathe, his chest feels too tight and his throat is closing up. There is so much unbearable agony inside him.
Noe’s hands cup his face, soft and warm. Somehow it helps him calm. The tears had poured from his eyes without any change in his facial expression.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered.
Vanitas clutched his eyes shut, falling into Noè’s chest. Noè could feel the shakiness of his limbs as he wrapped both his arms around Vanitas’ waist and tucking his chin on his head.
“I’m— I'm not weak,” mumbled Vanitas, into Noè’s chest. His presence felt like a lifeline.
“I’ve had worse,”
His throat hurts. it hurts so much…
The vampire combed his fingers through Vanitas’ hair… it always had been soft. Noè holds him. And for a moment he hears total— complete silence; it was that part of it Noè hated.
The silent part of a cry… the one that announces that the most harrowing grief is going to follow… he closed his eyes. And it does, and he's muffling it. No matter how hard he breathes, it is not enough to replenish the oxygen supply.
“Crying doesn’t make you weak, Vanitas,” Noè murmured.
“It’s okay,”
Vanitas’ fortress had blown up— there is nothing left of it, not even ash and smoke.
“It’s okay,” Noè whispered into Vanitas’ hair
“I’m right here for you…petit bleu.”
Vanitas nodded into Noè’s shoulder. Here in the refugee on the vampire's arms, it was easier to breathe, he wasn’t going to let go anytime soon.
Vanitas stilled in his arms, looking at Noè with the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Noè gazed down, so tenderly at him.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Asked Vanitas.
“Because I want to,” Noè said, placing a gentle kiss on Vanitas’ wrist, his pulse was so strong against his lips.
Vanitas breathed a laugh, his chest feeling a little lighter.
“You’re an idiot,” Vanitas was still smiling as he looked at Noè and grabbed him by the face.
“An absolute moron.”
And then he kissed him.