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Everlasting was Mr. Chopped's wish for a body, oh to walk and hold again. It was truely a desire that could never be ridden of. He always dreamed of it, in his sleep as much as in his awake times.
He was forever glad for Mr. Silvair's help and attempts to fullfill his wish without it falling down to an low level, Mr. Chopped will always be glad that the man tries despite it never working. Afterall, Silvair did try his probably best, it's not the guy's fault if it all keeps failing.
But one thing Mr. Chopped didn't except because at this pointed, he excepted it all. He could be sitting atop of the sofa in Mr. Silvair's bad smelling room and suddenly fall through the ground, it wouldn't surprise him. Terrify him, yes, but not surprise. He didn't except his wish of having a body to slowly go back into his second most thought of thing.
In clearer words, he didn't except his helper to start being a big majority of his thoughts. Did he not. But could he be blamed?
Mr. Silvair was attractive, it was a fact. In addition the man is quite smart, and with some bloody strength. If we ignore the almost unbearable odor of blood and rot radiating from him and his unconventional, murderous habits, Silvair actually could be considerably the perfect man. Not to mention his cooking isn't actually this bad compared to what Mr. Chopped had seen some other people here cook up... but when we think of it it's actually not that hard to cook better than a lot of them. He didn't know if it tasted well, but atleast the looks of it weren't too bad.
He didn't except nor understand why this knowledge greedy man was the center of his thoughts, the core of his dreaming. He even less understood how did it fall on him so fast and hard.
"So... Like them?" Asked the human. Chopped was starting to regret asking her for help, with her severe difficulties talking in their language, it didn't make the job easier and she kept almost teasing the poor severed head. It was getting to his head... pun was not intended.
"Maybe?" Replied Chopped, feeling some light blush, somehow, creeping on his cheeks. Apparently that girl found it silly. Mr. Chopped had no idea what was so funny, but she was nice to him, so he kept his mouth relatively shut.
"Go tell them!" She chuckled as she ruffled his ginger hair. "Want me carry you?"
The severed head sighed. "Yes." He knew that if he didn't have a talk with Silvair, that human won't stop poking at him until he did.
As her hands slid around the bottom of his cheeks and pulled him up from the rock he was laying on, he felt some little pebbles fall out of his braid. God he needs to give his hair a good wash because this can't keep on. His hair is becoming a weapon, isn't it critical to say that? It is.
These endless corridors were so familiar to Mr. Chopped, to the human. They both got along pretty well, they are friend we could say, but there were many unsaid words between them. Chopped knew she couldn't stay forever, and she did too, she already felt her body modify as she stays in this world. They enjoyed what they could.
It was sad, Mr. Chopped had grown so fond of that nice girl. But he accepted it. Or maybe she'll stay? He silently hoped, but he knew it wasn't going to happen.
The footsteps resonated around these empty corridors, the lone eye of Mr. Gap sometimes appearing in the holes in the walls, following them with curiosity but never saying nor doing more. Gap was calm and peaceful, and his like for consent and approval was respectable, never did that man take anything from anyone without their clear permission.
"Is here?" Asked the girl pointing at the door at the bottom of stairs, a sight to which Chopped hummed. It indeed was the right place, one of Silvair's rooms. "Go!"
She walked down the stairs to knock on the metal door, but got no answer. Mr. Silvair must be somewhere else, that silver haired self proclaimed doctor-scientist man had so many different rooms of his, afterall it was no surprise he wasn't at this one. Chopped is patient, he can wait.
"Put down chair. Me wait!" He said, his black smile spreading as he looked at the human, who nodded as she put him down on the old sofa. "Can you stay?"
Her gaze turned to him, she hummed in her thoughts before sitting down next to him. It reminded Mr. Chopped of how their first meeting with Silvair went. The severed head and tall man sitting next to eachothers on that couch, and the girl in front of them as they taught her their odd language.
A warmth spread accross him, it felt weird, it should be spreading in his chest, in his stomach even, but he doesn't have any of these, yet the phantom sensation, everything... It's so odd, but not displeasant.
Her hand over his hair, he remembered how they were when she first arrived, they were soft and smooth, now they're calloused and scarred. He could recognise these fingers so easly, soft yet calloused, but firm and strong. He liked the sensation of her skin against him, but it could never beat how much he loved Silvair's hands.
That man, that carried him everywhere, that was kind despite being quite off his rocker. Mr. Silvair had never proven to be a bad person, not to Mr. Chopped's eyes. To him he was the definition of perfect imperfection.
Perfect imperfection. That's Silvair.
He has flaws, like everyone does, but he has his good parts. The severed head always despised saying someone was perfect. Because perfection is fake. He always considered that if someone doesn't have flaws, they aren't.. right. To him, flaws are the prettiest part of someone, he couldn't love the self proclaimed scientist and doctor the way he does if he didn't have these flaws to him. Because that's what the flaws are.
They are what makes Silvair, Silvair, and for nothing would Mr. Chopped wish these to be gone.
This warm feeling, this desire to have the person never change, never loose their flaws, the wish to never leave this person's side... The human called it love. It sounds beautiful. Like the fangs of a saw, it has it's up and it's down, but nothing is prettier than love, true, love.
It hurts sometimes, sometimes you do and say things you never thought you'd say, sometimes even, it makes you dislike people you thought you'd never dislike. But the girl had explained how behind all these aches is something beautiful. A spark of lights and colors in this dark and dull place that these endless corridors of stone are.
A flower growing and blooming inbetween the remains of something that collapsed, that burnt down.
Chopped liked that idea. He liked the metaphors of the human. They helped him understand, visualise this strange but welcomed feeling.
"Me go, sorry. Crawling worry me not with them." Sighed the girl as her hand sliped off Mr. Chopped's hair.
"Okay!"
His orange pupils followed her, studying her movements, the way the clothes bounced when her legs moved. In a way she reminded him of Silvair, but a bit more sane, perhaps.
The head giggled, closing his eyes and loosing himself in the thoughts full of colors that Silvair caused.
That silver haired guy was really a fucking beauty. Curse him for spreading his sweet and delightful venom into Chopped.
Soft hands touched his hair. Calloused and scarred too, dirty even, but amazing. "Silvair!"
"Hello." Smiled the blindfolded man, and that sight made the warmth climb even further, spread further inside of Mr. Chopped. "Want carry?"
"Carry! Carry! Up!" Giggled the ginger as these imperfectly perfect hands got off his hair to cup his cheeks and pull him off the couch. "Hug?"
"Hug." Hummed Silvair as he pulled the severed head close to his chest, his hands brushing as he moves to hold Mr. Chopped with his arms. The embrace was warm, Chopped wished for it to never end, so he leaned in it, doing his bet impression of a purr as Silvair's nails gently scratched the back of his head.
"Me like." Sighed Chopped.
"You like hug?"
He grew silent for a second. "Yes. Yes me like hug."
A low rumble came out of Silvair as his head lowered to look down at Mr. Chopped. He had read him like an open book.
"Me like you..."
"Mhm? Me like you." Repeated Mr. Silvair as he tumbled on the couch, laying down, the ginger severed head resting on his pecs as both men smiled.