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He doesn't remember when everything begins to blur together. The scarlet moon hangs above in all its radiance, lighting up everything it's light touches in a red hue. It's bright, both from the headache it induces and the crimson seeping into his clothes that it lights up and enhances the color.
It is bright in contrast to his fair skin that it stains as well. The blood of a vampire ignites in bright valor and color underneath the bright red moon. The crimson seeps into everything it touches; clothing and skin, stained in the ichor that touches his face and slips into the curves of his neck. Eyelashes flutter as do his closed eyelids as the world is drowned out.
"-oé."
The sound rings in his ears like a chorus. It is a twisted melody that he tries to grasp. It's familiar in a way he can't discern.
"Noé!"
The yell of his name has his eyelids fluttering open. Recognition comes to Noé suddenly as his mind begins to run again. With vision blurred and mind foggy, he stares openly at brilliant blue that comes into view. That's right. Memories come back to him suddenly, crashing into him in violent waves as he recalls how he came to be in this predicament.
The sun had risen already, casting all that it touched in an orange glow. White hair splays out across the dull gray pillow and off-white eyelashes gently cascade over closed eyes. Noé slumbers peacefully into the afternoon when the door to his room slams open.
His eyes flutter open at the sound, purple irises moving along with his body as he slowly sits and looks at the cause of the disturbance. He blinks slowly as he beholds the sight of an annoyed figure staring at him from his place at the door frame.
"You lazy bat, you were supposed to be awake over an hour ago!"
Noé looks towards the open window as the light of the sun settles upon his room, framing his face in a warm glow. Vanitas is right; he was supposed to be awake to prepare for the day's events, what with the job they had to prepare for. Though this really was Vanitas's fault for not checking in to make sure he was getting ready, and he feels the need to say so.
"Maybe you should have woken me up. You know I tend to sleep in by now, don't you?"
He pushes the blanket covering himself aside, feet swinging over the edge of the bed as he pointed a look towards his companion. He tidies the bed back up as he does, turning away from the sour expression his partner is wearing. He's already seen enough to expect what's to come next.
"Of course I do, but it's not my job to get you up. Just get ready."
Footsteps retreat and the door is shut not too kindly. Always the dramatic flair with him. He smooths his hands out over the blanket, ridding it of as many wrinkles as he can in a hurry. He doesn't want to irritate Vanitas more because he's right in a way. He needs to get better at getting up in the morning. Though by now it's probably around the afternoon.
He changes out of his usual attire, having slept in it last night. He had been exhausted after what had happened yesterday and had gone and gotten under the covers when they got back without a second thought. Now he has to wear something else.
His hat is left forgotten in its place, but white gloves remain on his hands. They are to set out to deal with a malnomen that has been causing a ruckus out on the streets at night. From what they had heard, this particular malnomen was able to trick people into doing things. So it was proving to be difficult to deal with.
He opens the door slowly, peeking his head out to make sure Vanitas is not looming outside waiting for him. Satisfied with the emptiness of the hall, he crosses the threshold, shutting the door carefully behind him. He lets out a breath of relief, footsteps light as he makes his way out. There is no need for his caution, but he rather not cause any ruckus for those that might not wish to be disturbed.
Vanitas is another reason as to why Noé is treading so carefully. He simply does not wish to irritate his companion any further than he already has. By the time he does breathe in the fresh afternoon air, Vanitas is waiting at the front door for him.
"Took you long enough."
His companion's words strike him through the heart in a way that has an inevitable pout crossing his features. It is not his fault that he is a heavy sleeper, and one who clings to a pillow as though his life depends on it. He knows this is an issue as well because if Vanitas had decided to try and get him up before, attempting to grab the pillow in an effort to wake him(which would because of the discomfort he'd experience without it) would not be easy due to the tightness of his grasp on it.
The laugh that comes from Vanitas startles him. Noé furrows his features into a small frown at that. His partner is quite insufferable at times, but despite the reaction it drags out of him, he can't help but feel a little warm at the sound they let out, even with its mocking nature. Vanitas is certainly laughing at the expression that has crossed his facial features.
"Come now, we need to catch the next tram to get to our destination. Don't look like you've been kicked while you're at it."
A snort rumbles from Vanitas' nose and back of their throat at that. He is clearly finding amusement in the suddenly glum nature Noé has found himself in this afternoon. Atleast Vanitas appreciates his sour expression.
Noé's face easily contorts back into a more relaxed state. His violet eyes shine as a sparkling object captures his attention in the corner of his eye. Before he can get a chance to turn and investigate, a hand closes around his wrist. The smooth leather is terribly familiar as he looks and notes Vanitas' miserable scowl.
"Oh no you don't, we can't afford to waste anymore time."
Noé sighs because, of course, Vanitas is right. Besides, the irritation Vanitas presents is far more distracting than any sparkling object could ever be. It always fascinates him how his partner can cast such looks when he can clearly see that there's a different thought or emotion hidden behind it. For example, irritation hides their anxiousness to get going to learn more and aid a cursed vampire.
It takes all the way to the tram stop before Noé realizes that not once on the way did Vanitas let go of his wrist. This realization causes a smile to adorn his face, warmth settling in his heart that Vanitas was worried enough about their time to ensure he wouldn't get lost or sidetracked. It's comforting to know Vanitas is so dedicated.
The grip on his wrist is finally gone as they board the tram, just barely making it in time. They sit opposite each other as they always find themselves doing. He vaguely wonders if it's because it feels right and comforting to be able to see each other face to face. That's how Noé would like to think of it.
He continues to smile, pleased now that the initial irritation from the somewhat rough awakening this morning has dissipated. It's also simply because he's still warmed from his most recent musings. Vanitas is quick to catch on, neutral expression turning into a small downturn of his lips.
"What are you looking like that for?"
Noé has so many reasons just laying at the tip of his tongue, teetering on the edge that would lead to the spilling of his thoughts. In the end they stay resolutely inside as he laughs softly and tilts his head to look out the window, smile still playing at his lips.
"Nothing."
Noé only catches a glimpse of a perplexed look crossing his partner's features out of the corner of his eye, before that perplexed gaze turns into a click of his tongue and feigned nonchalance. He suppresses a light laugh as he closes his eyes and rests his head against the window. His mind drifts hazily for the rest of the trip, hidden feelings of affection drifting at the back of his drowsy haze.
He startles from his stupor a little while later with a shake to his shoulder. He's easily woken from the state he was just in because it was unsteady and he hadn't quite fallen asleep. Vanitas doesn't even need to say anything for Noé to understand that it's their stop. He wordlessly gets up from his seat and follows them out of the tram and onto a street.
It also constantly makes him feel warm and fuzzy when they do this; when they can understand each other without need for words. They may not always see the exact reasons behind what they're thinking, but there's always this deep understanding they have without speaking.
"We're going to meet with baldy, rest for a few hours, and then proceed with our investigation."
Noé nods in affirmation as he takes to following Vanitas once again. He doesn't quite know why their walk stretches into silence, and the way they had remained relatively quiet up until this point, but it is far from uncomfortable. It causes his mind to drift as he follows along.
This is how it should be, he supposes. Despite their previous differences in opinion and scuffles, he has grown attached to his sapphire eyed companion. They have grown so much, and Noé thinks that he would follow Vanitas wherever. He would follow him to the ends of the earth if he was allowed, but then again, he never really did care for being given permission to join him. Even if Vanitas grew tired of him, he would always go against their wishes and follow them over and over again; on and on to wherever life takes them next.
He didn't know quite when it had happened that he grew so fond of Vanitas. Maybe it had been back when he had asked him about love, or maybe it was even before then. It was quite possible he had even been enraptured and enamored the moment they had met, despite the blatant denial of liking him. His affections for his companion only furthered to grow, like a flower blossoming in his heart. He had never expected to be so wholly connected to another person in such a way; a way that would make his heart thrum happily, and his face heat up and hurt from how much he smiled in their presence alone.
Every mannerism and expression, even filled with hate, made him feel better than he had ever felt before he had met Vanitas. He could never go back to the way he was before now that he knew him and what he was like; what emotions lay hidden just beneath the rough exterior they built around themself. Despite all the hurt they had gone through and pain that Vanitas even threw his way in an attempt to keep him out, he wanted it all now and forever.
All of these feelings stirring inside him though were just that. Inside, hidden within his mind and his heart, is where it all stayed. He knew he could never voice these things to Vanitas. It would irrevocably change them. Vanitas would leave him for good. He'd shove him away so hard that no matter how hard he protested just like all the other times, it would not be at all like those times. This time it would be permanent and there would be no way of stopping it from happening, and the world would become a dull blur. The world had never shined so bright until Vanitas appeared after all.
So needless to say, he would keep these feelings shut inside. He could not imagine a life without Vanitas caused by a tear in their relationship. Noé was aware that Vanitas would die; he would die by his very own hand, no less. But that would be because of the promise Noé made that day despite no words of confirmation being spoken; they didn't need the verbal words to know it was made. That would be from what it was meant to be, not from his emotions. He could not bear to leave Vanitas on bad terms, ever.
Noé was going to be devastated when the time came that he could fulfill his promise. The world would be different. He would not be able to see it the same ever again after everything they had gone through together. Even so, he would do it. He won't back down on his promise.
He's brought out of his thoughts by a snap of fingers in his face. He looks into glittering sapphire as Vanitas' bright eyes narrow at him. He seems annoyed, but he can see the concern buried deep within in regards to Noé's state. It's gone as quickly as it passed though, actual irritation showing as Vanitas realizes that Noé was simply lost in thought.
"Idiot, we're here. The baldy is trying to tell us more, so pay attention."
Noé nods vigorously as he's brought back from his stupor. He turns his gaze from Vanitas to Dante, who sits at a small table outside of a small restaurant. Vanitas pulls a chair out and rests his elbows on the table, not a care for manners present in the slightest. Noé follows along, pulling his own seat out and leaning forward to hear more upon sitting, though with more manners as he keeps his arms tucked snugly at his sides.
Dante leans in, side eyeing those around them as if they might overhear. His hand goes over the side of his mouth, exaggerating the secret he's about to say. It's understandable, considering it's the middle of the day and in public.
"I don't have much else to report on in regards to what this one can do, but I know what kind of targets it goes after. There's this one set of wide open alleyways it's been sticking to, and it goes after people that are hopelessly lost."
He looks in Noé's direction almost conspiratorially. When he looks to his side to see if Vanitas knows what Dante is getting at, instead he gets the other's blue eyes staring at him as well. He gets a bad feeling about this like a pit opening in his stomach as he pieces together what's happening here. He points at his own face which has now contorted into a light frown.
"Me?"
He sighs when he realizes that his assumptions would be correct. Of course he would be the first person that they thought of. Why did he almost always have to be the bait? As though the question had been spoken aloud, Vanitas chooses this time perfectly to talk with a mischievous grin playing at his lips.
"Of course, you'd be perfect. You're already constantly getting your scatterbrained self lost!"
Just what he feared. The logic was sound, he could admit that much. It didn't mean he was particularly thrilled about it though. Why did this always happen to him?
Dante gave them the rest of whatever information he had left, although not much. He told them of the exact alleys he had been referring to earlier, and which parts were most frequently attacked compared to the others. Now all they had to do was bide their time.
They walked in tandem towards their destination, deciding it would be best to head there early and simply wait for the right moment in that vicinity. There were many interesting things along the way he wanted to look at, but Vanitas insisted they look around closer to their target area.
Vanitas made no attempt at much conversation on the way like usual, only opting to comment on Noé's pouting face. He couldn't help it, there were many things on the way they could see to pass time. Though it's not his only worry.
Vanitas is being way too quiet for his liking. They are usually bantering back and forth at any chance presented. When it becomes too much for Noé to sit back and watch anymore, he takes matters into his own hands, poking insistently at his companion's cheek.
"Why are you so quiet? You're being weird."
He watches as those bright mesmerizing blue eyes narrow in irritation towards him. Now that's the Vanitas he knew and cared deeply for. Even if the attention given was frustration at him, it was their usual, and that's what made it appealing.
"I'd be fine if you stopped pestering me. I'm just thinking about how we don't have enough information. I don't even know why I continue to hire Dante anymore."
So that's the source of their irritation? They should've just said so. Noé can't help but laugh at that, causing further annoyance towards him.
"Oh, that's good. I was worried you were broken."
He deserves getting the hit to his head that immediately followed his statement. He couldn't help but laugh, and so their usual bickering began. Naturally this alone passed the time, especially as they were preoccupied in their usual banter.
When they got close, they stopped to eat. They were going to need the energy, and Noé was thrilled at the prospect of trying something new. They chose a quiet place to sit that had the kind of food the both of them ate.
They sit down across from eachother as they pick out what to eat. Vanitas orders oysters, and Noé can't help but scrunch his nose at that. He doesn't quite understand why Vanitas likes that stuff, though it is probably because it's not sweet like Noé prefers.
"The hell are you looking at me like that for? Cut it out."
The foul expression Vanitas is pulling at him causes him to tip his head back laughing. He covers his mouth with the back of his hand, shoulders shaking and eyes crinkled with mirth.
"Stop laughing, it's not the funny!"
He inwardly apologizes to Vanitas, because it is indeed very funny. Vanitas just doesn't know how hilarious he looks glowering at him like that. He really can't help it, sighing and shaking his head when his laughter finally dies down.
Their food is brought to them and they share a meal together. It's quiet and it's peaceful, and Noé wouldn't have it any other way. He wants to have many more moments like this, sitting in peace and enjoying each other's company. Vanitas may not act like it, but Noé can see that they're enjoying themself.
It warms Noé's heart, but he knows it's not just the quiet peace they have only interrupted by playful jabs at each other. This feeling is from deep within, affection spilling into his smile. Their lives are not meant to be domestic, and Noé doesn't want that anyways. It wouldn't be them. That doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy a simplistic moment like this where he can watch Vanitas though.
He watches as Vanitas eats, digging into his own food and dessert. He'll enjoy this moment for as long as it lasts, and he'll thrive in the time they have left before the inevitable.
By the time they were done with each other the sun was setting. The time had flown by as they argued playfully back and forth while perusing the stores and sights around them.
The plan was in action not much later as they reached the beginnings of their deception taking fold. Noé looked back at Vanitas with pleading eyes, not wanting to be sent alone. He knew he was the best person for this, but it didn't mean he was happy. Vanitas scoffed at him.
"What are you looking like that for? I never said I wasn't coming with you. As long as we both act extremely lost, it'll come for us. It shouldn't matter if it has two prey instead of one if we're both the type it targets."
Noé clasps Vanitas' hands in his own, relief in his violet eyes and gratitude present even without the words. He can't help but beam as Vanitas sighs and looks away from him, removing one hand in order to hit his palm against his face. He mutters something about not being able to take him anywhere and something else that Noé can't quite catch. It doesn't matter.
They both begin to walk down the worn and beaten path. It feels fitting, in a way that he can't quite place. The ground is like their relationship, treaded on over and over and yet still prevailing. Before he knows it though, he does feel rather lost.
Vanitas had said that it would be best to pick where to turn at random, to better feel like they were actually lost. It would make this plan all the more believable as they walked aimlessly down the barely illuminated alleys.
"Where do we go from here? This doesn't look like the right way, does it?"
Vanitas leans toward Noé for emphasis, looking at him with a contemplative look. He looks as lost as he sounds, acting fluently and without a hitch. Noé follows his lead, looking around frantically in both directions as they stand at the middle of a split end.
"No.. Are you sure this was even the right way anyways?"
They have to act as though they are not confident, despite the existence of it in the face of their act. They fully believe that this will be enough to draw the curse bearer out, and it quickly proves true.
Not a minute later of their feigned confusion did it reveal itself to them, lunging from above them. Swiftly they adjust their positioning to allow it to go past them, backing into the center of the juncture as they watch it go over their heads and land on the concrete path. The curse bearer stands, facing them with bared teeth as they go on the defensive. They know it can persuade others to do what it wants, but no way of telling how.
The vampire's appearance looks like that of wood, stiff in its movements. Its joints have become separated in a way, giving it the appearance of a poorly carved doll, with sides jagged and rough. Sharp splintering claws replace its hands, as if carved incorrectly and raggedly.
The Book of Vanitas opens, inky black pages glowing in blue symbols towards the sky. The pages flip as he searches its pages for the malnomen that has inflicted the vampire before them. Said vampire twists it's head irregularly at the two of them. It's difficult to tell which malnomen it is only based on the appearance and vague description of its abilities.
The malnomen lunges none too gracefully towards them, joints almost twisting as it moves. Its wooden claws stretch out and Noé is just able to move in front of Vanitas and shove him out of the vampire's course. The splintering claws swipe across Noé's neck and shoulder, drawing blood. Its other claw swipes at his waist, sinking into the flesh as it breaks through and stabs him. He coughs up blood at the protrusion into his organs through his side before the whole doll jumps away from him, tearing its claws ruthlessly out of his skin.
"What-"
Noé barely gets the word out, choking on blood as he becomes confused at its sudden retreat, before he's suddenly lifted from his feet for a moment, just suspending there before he's dropped back onto the flat of his feet. He attempts to crane his neck and see what holds him up, but he can't find the strength to move it. He suddenly realizes he can't move anything.
He's suddenly pulled, arms sluggishly moving without his permission. From the position it forces him into, he can just see thin strings of shimmering red holding his body to its whims. His own feet move without his permission towards his companion, to whom he looks up at with wide violet eyes.
His body is moved by the strings, like a puppet at the mercy of its puppeteer. He hates the way Vanitas looks nearly mortified at the sight, and he's unable to stop himself when his body lunges towards them unwillingly.
Fortunately Vanitas narrowly avoids the assault. Normally it would be hard for him to get away from someone with strength and speed like Noé has. The only thing saving him from a blow was that Noé's movements were slow and less articulate under the string's control.
"I'm sorry, Vanitas!"
Words are the only things under his own control. He hasn't been turned into a literal puppet with protruding joints and immovable mouth, just that his body is moved by strings he can barely see. Even so, this seems worse, the way he can see and speak while being powerless to do anything but obey.
The next time he lunges, Vanitas has withdrawn his blade and held it at the ready. He only has a moment to process the reasoning behind the weapon before it's being swung at him. Correction, Vanitas has stepped out of the way at the last second and sliced his blade clean through the crimson strings all above him.
The strings snap, but at the same time a yell is ripped from Noé's throat at the deep burning pain that proceeds afterwards, blood filled saliva spraying with the scream. Where the strings connect to his body, gashes appear that cause blood to spray from them heavily, as well as cutting across his face where the blood touches, turning the blood against him like a weapon that cuts and tears.
They cut extremely deep, blood splattering all over his clothing. It stains the mostly white fabric and seeps in, though it's not the blood that causes the most damage. The fabric is sliced and ripped from the strings of his own blood. There's no salvaging this because of the ruin the clothing becomes.
His arms meet the same fate, slashes coming across them where the strings meet and bleeding profusely as well in deep gashes. They cut so deeply that it slices to the bone, white visible upon close inspection. The only thing that keeps him from collapsing is his own blood turning into more strings holding him and controlling his movements.
The cuts themselves are ragged and misshapen. The cuts had not been clean, increasing the pain. Not only that but it feels as though there are hundreds of splinters sticking right in where the cuts are. The cuts themselves seem to hold the feeling of a splinter a hundredfold. It could be a slight exaggeration, but at the moment it just feels much worse than it should.
This horrible spiking pain spreads throughout his body. It's pure agony that he feels as he writhes in it in response to the whole reaction. The malnomen cuts and he bleeds. He desperately tries to fight it when his body is propelled at Vanitas again, hands reaching out to try grab and claw at them.
Vanitas watches it all happen all the while, looking absolutely mortified from what Noé can see of his face. It makes his heart wrench at the sight, but he's also becoming numb from blood loss.
His movements become more sluggish as he struggles to fight against the hold it has on him. All of his body strains to try and keep it from controlling him any further. Something wet and viscous spills from his eyes and he fears it's not tears that trail down his cheeks. It feels like he's being strangled all the while conscious of every little thing going on.
Vanitas uses the grimoire to stun all in his vicinity, the only thing halting all the movements. To Noé, he looks confident now, resolution shining in the forced grin he tries and fails to put on.
"I've figured you out now, malnomen!"
His voice is strained and dry as the pages of the grimoire flip. They move quickly and gracefully before landing on a specific page. Noé can't quite process the next words as his body begins to numb in the face of the Book of Vanitas.
A certain warmth passes through him as he feels the strings fall away from his body. The malnomen is being cured, and Noé can feel it. This hold it has over him allows him to feel connected deeper than just some strings grasping him.
His body falls the second it's no longer supported by puppet strings, legs collapsing underneath him from the blood loss. His knees buckle and he lands flat on his back, head hitting the pavement and further putting him in a daze.
His eyes flutter closed and darkness comes towards him quickly. He vaguely registers being moved until his back is against another hard surface.
"-oe"
He wants to slip under the haze and let all his thoughts become a dull fuzz. He can barely discern the sounds coming to him, like an odd melancholic melody.
"Noé!"
His eyelashes flutter open and the first thing he sees is concerned sapphire staring into his glazed over violet. Ah, that's right. They were attacked and he had become a victim to the malnomen, forced against his will.
"Vanitas?"
His voice croaks, shallowly breathing and trying not to slip under now. Vanitas has knelt down before him, holding both of his hands on the disoriented vampire's sore shoulders. They seep blood as it drips down his head and shoulder. He can barely feel his arms at his sides, in a similar state of pain and disrepair as the rest of him. He barely notices how his arms have become a tangled mess, twisted unnaturally no doubt from the force they had been ripped.
"You moronic vampire! You damn fool, what is wrong with you?"
Noé blinks hard and slow, trying to process the jumble of words thrown in his direction. They're jabs and remarks about his stupidity, but he can hear the worry laced heavy behind the words. Noé is fighting to stay conscious. He wants to say something; anything!
"Am I going to die?"
They had been through many horrible disasters more than once. Many against curse bearers, one against eachother. Never had he actually thought he was going to die considering his healing. His hand had been chopped off before and reattached, and he'd been fine. Though maybe it's the hazy film covering all of his thoughts and the pain has subsided into full body numbness that causes this thought.
He was bleeding profusely out of many deep cuts and wounds caused by the strings and what had happened after being cut. The agonizing pain more than he'd ever actually experienced, not including the emotionally agonizing pain he'd felt so long ago after the death of one of his closest friends.
So much for being the one to kill Vanitas, if he was laying there thinking he was going to die. The slap he gets across his face startles him into focusing harder on Vanitas, who had just backhand slapped him.
"Of course you're not going to die! You're not supposed to die before me, idiot."
Noé can't help but laugh at that, wheezing and coughing afterwards, metallic blood pooling in his mouth. He coughs more, blood oozing from his mouth and dripping down the sides of his jaw. He supposes Vanitas is right in this. He has a promise to fulfill, though if he doesn't get the chance, he may as well come out with it. Maybe it won't ruin their relationship, or so he hopes.
"You know your eyes are really pretty."
Hearing the snort it pulls out of his companion has him sporting a little grin. Vanitas is no doubt trying to hide his immense worry by humoring him, a failed attempt at alleviating the situation. His eyes close, heavy and hard to open again, so he doesn't.
"I've always loved that about you. Just like I feel towards you, and all of you."
It's a blatant confession pulled out of the deepest recesses of his already too big heart. His affections run deep and all throughout it, pumping through his veins and into his whole being. His fluttering and rapid pulse begins to slow down. He doesn't hear what Vanitas says to him next as he drifts deep into unconsciousness. His smile never disappears as his face changes from being full of pain and stress to being peaceful as he falls under the black sea of sleep.
He vaguely registers at different points being pulled up to being carried over Vanitas' shoulders(or at least his mind supplied in the moments he was lucid). He hears annoyed speaking but no words, and all of this is spanning the few moments he stirs to near consciousness on their way because of the movement, though never quite breaching the surface.
In Vanitas' eyes, he vaguely thought that Noé might actually die from this. He'd had no control over what had happened, watching it all play out in front of him. They had been mostly powerless in the face of what could best be considered the worst case scenario. They had thought this would be a simple case.
From the description they had gotten, he had expected to malnomen to be vocal. If it persuaded others into doing what it wanted, that's what he had explained it to be. He was going to strangle Dante for his bullshit information after this.
He had vaguely registered the pages flipping from the grimoire, watching as Noé was taken control of and turned into an unwilling weapon against him. He was quick on his feet as he stayed out of the way of Noé's grasp, who's movements were fortunately hindered.
"I'm sorry, Vanitas!"
He couldn't help how their teeth grinded at that. How Noé could only watch as he mercilessly attacked Vanitas. Vanitas doesn't know why the thought that Noé's free will could be taken away so easily had angered him, and all he could think was how to get it to stop.
So they had done the only thing they could think of; they snapped the strings. If Noé was no longer attacking, Vanitas could get enough downtime to figure out what curse this was and put an end to it. Then, a scream of pure agony rang in his ears and left him reeling as he watched it happen. He watched as the simple action of cutting the strings tore him apart.
Seeing the way Noé's arms twisted in the movement and blood gushed from all the deep cuts that appeared over his body made Vanitas feel sick. He watched as his companion was cut to the bone, feet rooted in place. He could only stand there for a moment, mortified as they watched the entire ordeal.
He was shaken out of it when Noé was moved again, strings having reformed to retake control and force him to move despite the horribly bloody gashes all over his body. They grit their teeth, using the book now to stun. He tries not to pay any mind to the blood beginning to seep from Noé's eyes.
By stopping the malnomen, it stops its control. He flips through the pages as fast as possible, needing to get this over with quickly and get Noé help. As soon as he lands on the exact malnomen, he forces a cheshire grin as he declares he's found the source.
The curse bearer is cured within seconds, and as the vampire drops, so does Noé. He tucks the book back at his side as he runs to where Noé has fallen. Blood stains the street below him and Vanitas has to pull him up.
Crimson stains the black fabric of his gloves as he grabs Noé and sets him up against the wall. His heart wrenches at the way his vampire partner's head lolls to the side, white eyelashes tainted red with the blood coming from his eyes.
"Noe."
He places his hands on his shoulders, tattered fabric and skin stained in ichor smearing with the action. His own clothes are becoming soaked in the blood where it comes into contact with Noé's skin and clothes. He grits his teeth.
"Noé!"
He breathes a sigh of relief, letting go the breath he had been holding now that he watches Noé's eyes slowly open. He looks closely, concerned at the way those violet eyes are glossed over. He doesn't seem entirely there, as if standing at the precipice of the waking world and the unconscious one. They chastise him immediately, calling him moronic and stupid because it's the truth.
"Am I going to die?"
Blood boils beneath the skin as Vanitas looks at him as though he's the dumbest person to ever live. He slaps him right across the face on instinct. How dare he make that assumption when they have more they need to accomplish?
"Of course you're not going to die! You're not supposed to die before me, idiot."
Noé had a promise to fulfill, and Vanitas was sure to make him commit. He wouldn't let him die here; not when they have so much to do. Not when he still has to show Noé where their path leads.
He refuses to let the tears run down his face, voice cracking as his heart is torn from the seams. Noé laughs, and the sound makes Vanitas' eyes water. Sapphire harden at the sight and sound of such a simple laugh tearing coughs and wheezes from him.
"You know your eyes are really pretty."
Vanitas can't help but snort, but there's no real amusement behind the action. It's a simple broken reaction, because of course Noé would waste his breath on complimenting him. However, they freeze as a confession comes from their dear vampire companion.
Suddenly he can't breathe, watching with widened eyes as Noé slips away from him. The tears that had threatened to spill are no longer just a threat as tears track down his face without their permission.
"What is wrong with you? You can't just say that like you're going to die!"
His cracked words fall on deaf ears as Noé slips away into sleep. He tries to shake him back awake but to no avail. He's too far under now for Vanitas to reach, and reach he tries, desperately.
He does the next thing his frayed mind can come up with, desperately feeling for a pulse. It's near impossible to find with how much damage there is, but when he finds it, it's barely there. For a moment he thought that there was none, but it inevitably is there, albeit very faint.
"You better not die or I swear to the devil I'm going there myself to kill you again-"
He crouches down in front of Noé, back turned to him as he grabs his arms from behind him. He struggles to get Noé to lay on his back, holding his arms over their shoulders. They muster all of their strength in order to stand, vampire laid across their back as they move. He can't stop Noé's feet from dragging across the pavement, too tall to be carried properly.
He's heavy, Vanitas notes with exasperation. That's not the worst part about it either, nor is the fact that he's running out of time; though the time part is just slightly less worse than what Vanitas is thinking. Probably the worst part of this is how he's going to drag Noé all the way back and to a place he can get help. This is going to be a nightmare.
Noé had to be taken care of by someone else the moment Vanitas could get him to help. He was worried that he would be too late to help Noé, but they'd gotten to help in the nick of time. He had been insistent about being in the same room while Noé was patched up, stubbornly digging his feet into the floor. In the end though he had been dragged out so they could work, and he means dragged out in a literal sense.
When they were next able to see Noé, the bat looked like a mummy instead of a vampire. It made his stomach churn at the sight of just how extensive the damage had been. Noé's wounds had needed to be stitched closed so the healing could work properly, and his arms had needed to be reset from how badly they had been twisted up.
Vanitas sat crouched beside him, hands digging into the sheets he could grab. His clothes had been soaked in Noé's blood and he'd spent his time scrubbing away the red that seeped through the fabric and stained his skin. So he wasn't wearing his usual coat when he checked in on Noé.
The confession still rang at the back of his mind, but he ignored the insistent pestering of his heart in favor of the worry he had. First and foremost was Noé's health, despite his constant claims to not caring about him. The last time he remembers not acting this way was the day he'd tried to kill Noé and couldn't do it in the end. The truth was that he cared too much.
They don't know how this is going to play out anymore. Noé will have to stay here to get better enough that he wasn't at risk anymore, and then he'd be moved back into their shared room at the hotel. Then they'll be able to tackle the confession brought from the possibility of death.
It feels entirely too long to Vanitas until they're both back at the hotel. Vanitas has been unable to get ahold of Dante since the mission, and maybe that's for the best. There's a lot of choice words he wants to say to the man.
Noé remains unconscious in the bed, unmoving. It's worrying to see him like this, so unlike his usual sleeping state. He hasn't moved to grab a pillow once, so Vanitas put it upon himself to set a pillow on top of him so he could grab onto it. It doesn't happen, which is disappointing, but it's there when he needs it.
Soon enough he can't just sit there any longer, watching over Noé sleep frighteningly still. He climbs out onto the roof to stare out into the distance as he thinks. The cool breeze of the evening sweeps his bangs into his eyes. He tucks it back behind his ears as much as he can to keep it out of his sapphire eyes that he now recalls were pretty in Noé's eyes. An ugly feeling twists in his heart at the memory of it spoken from the assumption that Noé wouldn't make it.
He has a lot he wants to say to Noé when he's conscious. He plans to thoroughly scold him for his actions and to never do that again. Really, Noé has no regards to his own safety, and there's probably a deeper reasoning behind that, but whatever it is, Vanitas must remind him never to endanger himself like that again. Vanitas' heart can't take any more scares like that.
He watches as the sun descends, sky painted in all sorts of colors from blue to pink to orange. He leans back and lays down, staring up at the sky above as he ponders. He sighs, shutting his eyes as he lets the quiet sounds of Paris below lull him to sleep, thoughts of Noé and their relationship from here on his mind.
The next time Noé's conscious, light filters through the cracks of the closed curtains. He slowly blinks to orient and wake himself, slowly turning his head in an attempt to gaze out the window.
As he tried to sit up, pain spiked through his body as a reminder to what he had dealt with. It wasn't as sharp as it had been, but depending on how long he had been asleep he would be able to tell just how bad his injuries were.
"Monsieur Noé, you're finally awake! You've been asleep for 2 days."
So that's what had happened. He must have gotten hurt severely for his body to still not be fully recovered despite his heightened healing abilities as a vampire. He really must've been close to death like he had thought. He sits up abruptly, pain causing him to wince.
Fabric rubbed against his skin with every movement he's made so far, wrapped around most of his body. It makes his movements stiff and slow. He wouldn't be surprised if he had even needed stitches, atleast at the beginning, to keep his awful wounds from opening while his healing did its work. His healing had probably been horribly slow compared to its usual state as well without any way for him to drink any blood. There was only so much his healing could do by itself.
"Vanitas! Where's Vanitas?"
Amelia tries to usher him back to lay in bed, but it's entirely too late. Noé swings his legs stiffly over the side of his bed, violet eyes full of determination. By now there's no stopping him, so Amelia can only answer truthfully.
"He's on the roof."
Noé is already up and making his way towards the window, pushing the curtains aside despite Amelia's protests for him to stay in bed. He pushes the window open, crawling out and onto the roof despite the pain that assaults him with his every move. He practically has to crawl towards Vanitas, who immediately looks his way with irritation upon realizing what the vampire is doing.
Vanitas is quick to stand from where he'd been sitting, heading over to Noé in order to help him into a sitting position. He exudes irritation and perhaps even anger at the idea that Noé is out of bed before he's ready.
"You fool! You have to get your ass back into that bed right now."
It's like being scolded like a child that startles a raspy laugh out of him. It's his hair being grabbed that has him stopping abruptly, squeezing his eyes shut reflexively and grasping at the hand tugging his hair with a repetition of 'ows' and 'please stop.'
"What are you laughing at, idiot? Is scaring me about your near death that funny to you?!"
The grip relents, but the hand never leaves his hair. It stays there, a comforting weight as he opens his eyes to see Vanitas staring at him almost fondly. The expression is gone as quickly as he had seen it, replaced by feigned annoyance.
Noé can't help but smile at that, being able to see just how much Vanitas cares even if only for a moment. He's even more glad that his words said in the thought that he might die haven't changed much between them. Vanitas hasn't left him nor seems to be revolted by him in the wake of his feelings being out in the open.
He's caught off guard when he's pulled forward by his hair, faces held so close together he can feel Vanitas' breath on his face. A moment later, the space is gone as lips softer than he ever could have imagined are pressed to his own. He closes his eyes at the feeling, leaning in closer as he kisses him back more fervently.
Vanitas pulls back, hand pulling out of Noé's hair in the process. Noé nearly tumbles forward at the sudden distance, still rather unsteady because of his injuries.
"Never do that again, you hear? Now go and get back in the damn bed and rest."
Noé simply smiles as Vanitas leans away from him. He feels bad for making him worry like this, but the relief he feels about this not ruining their relationship, rather moving it forward, makes him relax. He shifts his body so that they are side to side instead of moving to go back inside. He leans against them, head falling to their shoulder as he closes his eyes with a content sigh, allowing himself to drift off as the worry releases tension from his body, making him all the more exhausted. The last thing he hears is a scoff and a muttering of 'idiot' while his body is moved slightly.
"I love you, too, Vanitas."