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What is his adoration if not a selfish desire to own? What is his love if not a facade that gets him what it is he truly desires? He does not care for anything or anyone outside of their use, he desires nothing except a man of his own blood. Yet his heart, cold and inhuman, beats.
It's noticeable, sickeningly present in his chest. How it's rhythm dances around his breath as if to punch all air out of him. For he is not a man who is looked at this way. He does not earn the softness of love in someone's eyes and he has not beheld it in such a form in quite some time. Has not felt so in need of it.
Each kiss is meant to be a tactic. Another card to play, another piece of bait to draw this pathetic rabbit closer. He's meant to entice it and then bite down until he can grab hold of the real prize...and yet...the more he was reciprocated, the more trust he gained, the more his eyes closed and he indulged.
How hedonistic of him. He isn't meant to enjoy it, not anything other than the control, yet he looses himself as his fingers card through hair. He's all too happy to forget about what he's here to do when he's offered a smile and a conversation. He holds hands out of a sudden impulse rather than as a calculated move. He feels warm, feels light. Like everything he's been working so hard for doesn't even matter.
And none of this should matter. He's old and not someone who has ever held interest in people. Inconveniences should perish and the rest should submit, it should be nothing more than that. But when he hears a please, a come closer, a thank you, that heart within his chest flickers and admires the candlelight before him and he is utterly consumed by it. Desperate to fuel it, to gaze at it, to trap it for his eyes to see so that he may be the only one warmed by it's flame, yet he hesitates. He doesn't wish to deprive it. If he were to accidentally snuff it out, what would he do then? Move on, of course, he always does, so why...
It's so harmless, so useless, a small candle is not enough to harm him at this point. With the right push it could spread into a wildfire. And he'd love that flame to blaze, to consume his entire being, but this too is somehow enough. It lights what it must and pleases him too much to even knock over. So mundane and ordinary...and weak...yet he gazes upon it still. Finds that his hands are so gentle as his heart sits in his stomach in an uncomfortable way that does nothing but make him draw closer to the candle.
Even now, it's so bright and energetic. So willingly his. And he admires it. It's determination, it's light, he wants to take hold and not let go. To have whatever it is that it's offering him for as long as this mortal body will allow him—
"Zen? Are you okay?" Haruo asks, head tilted slightly in concern.
Zen blinks. His face feels hot. He feels dishevelled despite nothing at all happening and his heart still beats far too loud in his chest. "Apologies," he rubs a hand over his eyes, "I'm just fine."
Haruo nods, a smile on his face he far too quickly learnt was only afforded to him. "Alright then. I'm going to put Enji to bed, I'll make you some tea after."
He can only watch as he moves, the urge to follow arraising yet he remains rooted in place. What a dreadful illness that has overtaken him. To adore something like this, to daydream about holding this in his arms forever. To be loved and...perhaps...maybe...almost...love one back.
Yoichi would surely laugh at him.
He shouldn't be attaching himself, shouldn't be getting so red over thoughts alone. But even still, he presses his hand to his chest. He knows he should act fast, retreat or eliminate so nothing becomes worse, but both ideas sadden him in a way he'll never allow himself to follow through with. Does he not deserve all that he craves, after all?
Even so, it is such a human thing to want like this and Zen has known for so long that he is quite far from such silly things. He is above such basic needs. He is. ...he should be. Either way, he's getting what he came here for, what is this reward for his efforts if not a bonus prize. Perhaps he could even pull Haruo so close that his presence would not hinder any plan at all. In a way, that idea is delightful. Just as delightful as holding his hand in a grocery store.
But all things end in due time. A man like that would need to be moulded to fit and what if that leads to him breaking? That which he tries to love is often taken away from him, but perhaps this one he could convince to stay.
He wants it to. He wants Haruo to stay. He wants his candlelight to burn until Zen himself decides to crush it beneath his hand. It's what he deserves, isn't it?
But all things end in due time. That desire is his weakness. He can't afford to have such obvious and exploitable weaknesses. He can't afford attachments, what of his end goal? What of everything he's done to get here?
But all things end in due time. One of them will leave. One of them will die. Ordinary people don't last long. Ordinary people turn on him so quickly.
But all things end in due time. Should he not take advantage while he can? To kiss and hold and love and have these things that are already being offered to him? Should he squeeze every bit out of this that he can so that he may be satisfied and indifferent when the end does come?
All things end in due time.
But he doesn't want them to.
This feeling is new. What happens to him and his heart when it disappears? If Haruo sees what he's done and leaves? If something takes this from him?
All things end in due time.
He should be prepared for it.
All things end in due time.
He should gorge and ravage what he is presented with.
All things end in due time.
He will have what he came here for eventually.
All things end in due time.
And he needs to be willing to sacrifice something.
All things end in due time.
He is willing.
All things end in due time.
...is he?
All things end in due time.
All things end in due time.
All things end in due time.