Chapter Text
He sat curled into himself most days, torso folded over his legs as he pulled his body into the various layers he had gathered over time—as well as itself, for he must cover the emptiness hidden beneath the fabric. He shivered relentlessly, the chattering of his teeth seemingly unable to ever calm. He was merely trapped in suffocating cold, as if he’d been trapped in ice for all eternity.
Unbeknownst to him, the man he had been sharing a room with had grown tired of his noises, for he snapped with an exhausted tone, “I ain’t got a wink of sleep, yet here you are, acting like it’s Opposite Day.”
Coat Guy shrunk slightly, dwarfed by the dismissive words, even more so as he had to look so far up at the man—it made a sense of shame form, as his brain found his uncontrollable actions merely childish now. “I…” He had begun, though the words were lost on his tongue for a while, gaze traveling around the room. “I- I do apologize..” He murmured as he brought his knees up to his chest, hooking his arms beneath them—embracing either limb. “The... The cold i- is simply unbearable…” The shorter man added as his head nestled in the depression made by his legs.
“What cold are you speaking of?” The tall man asked, a hint of true curiosity lacing his words. “Ain’t been cold for a long time.” Coat Guy stared sideways as the question came, chewing on his quivering lip as if to force it to stop. Soon, his gaze trailed down to his own body. He tugged the scarf he donned upwards to make it cover more of him, as if he was trying to burrow into it and let himself disappear.
With a shaky breath, the words finally came out—Coat guy explained his situation to the best of his ability: “I’m always so c— cold.. no matter what I do. I’ve bundled up, but not a single layer changes the cold…” He sunk further into the cushion of the couch, aching to disappear. A deeper shiver ran through his body the more he thought about the situation, merely leaving him shaking more.
As human nature goes, the whiskey-breathed man leaned in slightly, seemingly curious—or judging—of this frigid man. “Do showers not help?”
“I’ve tr- tried water, it only burns my skin… I’ve tried everything I could think of, nothing ever works.” Slowly, he breathed in. “It—It wouldn’t change anything… in the end.” Others would continue to burn up as he uselessly complained about how he was freezing.
The tall man gave a short, acknowledging sound before leaving silence in his place. Immediately, Coat Guy’s thoughts became rampant, eating away at him like parasites to their dying host. He glanced upward, toward the taller man, who carried a look of pity on his face before looking away as they made eye contact. Once again, Coat Guy felt shameful, he knew better than to speak up—pity wouldn’t fix anything.
He ached in the night, his stomach—or lack thereof—was painfully empty. It hurt him ruthlessly to make that fact known. He yearns for a normal meal, though he’d puke it up. He knows what his stomach wants, he knows he shouldn’t give into the craving, for the warmth of man is not worth taking the life away. The agony lasted for as long as he didn’t consume, but no true heat came of it. It was torturous.
Perhaps tonight, he will indulge. The suffering would be endless otherwise—though isn’t it already such a way? He sat there, clutching his stomach, and would continue to do so if he didn’t do anything about it. He watched the lanky person he occupied the couch with, watching his chest move up and down with every breath. Coat Guy envied his slumber, though guilt overcame such a thought as he slowly gripped the bottom of the shirts he had on.
No. He could not handle it—not again, not ever. Shame overcame him. In murdering innocent, warm life, he’d be no better than a ruthless, ravenous wolf. He cannot do this, he doesn’t wish to do this. Coat Guy curled up as deep as he could, pressing himself against the furthest end of the couch, close to falling off. The human wouldn’t have to know what he had tried to do. He chewed at the scabs on his lips, pulling them off with his teeth. The blood warmed him mildly, the only thing that truly ever seemed to.
Upon hearing the sound of the taller man waking, he jumped, staring with guilt. He shrunk as his mouth opened. What if he knew what he had almost done? Whatever happens, it’s a fate he deserves. The man has merely been trying to survive, and he almost took that away.
“G’mornin’.” Is all he says as he repositioned back to his spot, bent over the armrest.
His lips parted, a quiet expression of his wrong guess fell out, “Oh.” He briefly looked him over before turning to face the wall, bringing his trembling legs back up to his chest, cheek resting atop them. Then, he presented an inquiry for the other, “D- do you know where… where the restroom is..?” His voice was softer than before, remorse filling him. He attempted to stop his teeth from chattering once more, understanding he’d only be a nuisance.
“Right out there in the hall.” The man seemed to pause, looking over. “If you’re trying to piss, I wouldn’t recommend going there—no privacy at all with all those people.” Coat Guy nodded along, taking in the advice he didn’t need.
“Thank you… I’ll m-… make do..” He sniffled before standing up, heading out of the living room. He found which door led to the bathroom and passed all of the people in there, ignoring the stench of rot invading his nostrils as he searched in the cabinet. A sharp pair of scissors greeted him, and he quickly pocketed them, stepping back before turning around and hurrying out. He ran both his hand up and down either arm, breathing out with shivering sighs.
In an attempt to venture somewhere private, he was only met with more people. There was a girl in the closet, who seemed extremely perturbed, and a guy, who was messing with the stitches sewing his mouth shut. Coat Guy then took in what had happened to him, letting out a small gasp from his own realization. This man, human in nature—grown out purple hair, a piercing in his ear, wrinkles in his face from smiling before all of this went down—was brutalized in such a cruel way. Curiosity brought him closer. He held up his hands in surrender when the man shrunk away from him. “M- may I help wit— with that?” He spoke as he gestured to his own mouth. There was a flicker of confusion before he seemingly got what was being asked, nodding shortly after. Perhaps it was his appearance that made the poor man unsure at first, he knows how inhuman he looks.
Coat Guy pulled out his scissors and hesitantly brought them to the stitching. The man flinched, causing him to retract his hand. He didn’t know what he had done, perhaps he messed up in some way. The other shook his head, gesturing back to the wires, seemingly pleading with him to continue. He held the cutting tool up once again, carefully placing one of the pieces of wire in between both of the blades before snipping. Every time he cut one of the threads, a wince was pulled from the man. It made him more fearful to accidentally cut his lip. Once all of them were removed, the man—whom he has cruelly dubbed “Wireface” in his mind—tested his jaw and pawed at his mouth, a small smile beginning to show.
Wireface looked down with pure thankfulness, he began to speak. “Gszmp blf, gifob. Sld hszoo R ivkzb blf? Ziv blf xlow…? Gslhv ozbvih, rm gsrh svzg, sld rh rg mlg vmlfts gl dzin blf?” Coat Guy had now realized the barrier between them, a language one.
“P- Pardon…?” He asked, which resulted in them both staring for a prolonged period of time. Recognition washed over the one he’d just helped, and he piped up once more.
“Zs, R tvg rg. Dv xzmmlg fmwvihgzmw lmv zmlgsvi.” He said, face then showing his utter disappointment. After a moment's pause, he took Coat Guy's hand in his own, the latter flinching at the contact, staring bewildered. He hasn’t had a human’s touch in a long time. Though the purple-haired one was clearly gawking at the state of his nails, he didn’t ask, he merely continued on.
Wireface frowned as he held his hand in between both of his palms. “Blf'iv uivvarmt. Sviv, gzpv nb qzxpvg.” Then, he took off the sweater from his back, handing it over. Coat Guy almost shook his head, but his own desperation acted before his mind could. He took it and added it onto his layers upon layers of winter clothes.
“Thank you.” The other still could not understand him, so he flashed a smile, and he smiled back.
With a nod, Wireface piped up once more, “Vevm gslfts R xzmmlg fmwvihgzmw blf, zmw erxv evihz, R slkv blf fmwvihgzmw nb tizgvufomvhh.” The warmth in his tone at least led Coat Guy to believe there was a positive meaning in those words he couldn’t decipher.
Coat Guy then felt awkwardness run down his back with a grounding shiver. He hesitantly stepped back from the place he stood. “Goodbye.”
Wireface grabbed his arm, looking at him with a slight begging expression to his eyes. “R’oo hvv blf…?” He felt bad, but he couldn’t change the fact he couldn’t understand the poor guy. Seeming to understand, he pointed toward Coat Guy, then to himself, before clasping both of his hands together. He attempted to decipher the gesture. He almost thought it could mean that he wants to be friends, but that’s highly unlikely. Perhaps it was a deal. Then, when he realized Wireface was staring expectantly, he quickly repeated the gesture. It seemed to be the right option, as he beamed, eyes bright with pure, human joy. Coat Guy hoped he didn’t agree to something he would regret.
When he spoke up again, Wireface seemed to be confiding in himself rather than conversing, “Hl nzbyv sfnzmrgb rh kivhvievw rm hlnv lu fh zugvi zoo.” Coat Guy stiffly rubbed his hands together, trying to create friction as he waited a beat to see if Wireface wanted to speak or gesture any longer. Afterward, he waved briefly before rushing out of the room with a crowded mind. He ran his own fingers over his hand, reminiscing on the touch given to him. For once, he had forgotten about the yearning in his stomach to devour, now basking in the warmth of closeness. Still, there would be cold within, but he had not thought about it since he left.