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Mahito walked with quick but measured steps to your usual spot, still with his broken stitches and raw flesh dripping blood. He imagined the expression on your face when he told you the origin of the wound. He truly wanted some comfort. You, his favorite human, were so warm to hug, your fingers so soft, and your touch so pleasant.
He knew he would receive more attention if he were in a pitiful state, especially if he made a scene with sad faces and bitter tears. He understood that with you, weakness was treated with indulgence and strength with coldness. For him, there was something inherently appealing about receiving comfort for "weakness." Being such a powerful curse, it seemed to be his antithesis, but contradiction is the essence of humanity, and he, having been born of them, couldn't be very different.
Sensing your presence nearby, he wore a desolate expression, as if trying to conceal his feelings but failing, far from his usual theatrical self.
He silently approached you from behind and murmured your name with the same fervor a kitten in the rain might feel, hoping for the rescue of a kind-hearted passerby.
You turned your head slightly and saw the scene: he, shrugging his shoulders and with a pitiful expression, stood uncomfortably, waiting for you to notice him.
You felt alarmed to see him in this state. You knew his abilities well and knew he could repair any damage done to him unless it was a particularly serious situation that affected his soul. You quickly asked what had happened, if he needed anything, if there was anything you could do for him.
Mahito shook his head and buried his face in your chest, in an awkward position if he were human, murmuring things you couldn't understand. You gently stroked his hair, at least with as much tenderness as you could muster for him. The cursed spirit reveled in the flashes of light and the way your insignificant, weak soul tried to envelop him. What a pleasant touch! He usually saw this behavior in humans and their offspring, or in animals. He wondered if you saw him that way, as a vulnerable being.
It sounded so funny, and he couldn't help but laugh. You interpreted that trembling as sobs, so you hugged him tighter and tried to comfort him with words and circles on his back. The way your soul stretched and enveloped him was something he had never felt. He hadn't been born to feel this, not destined for it. He was born on the cold pavement where the surrounding walls exuded hatred and desolation, and he would die the same way... if he ever died at all, which was unlikely if you asked him.
Mahito has no mother or father, no friends or lover; those things humans need to live life to the fullest. He doesn't need them; he's not a weak, pathetic human who needs the comfort of others, and yet…
He could understand why humans sought and desired connection, contact between their fragile and fickle souls. He would love to crawl through your entrails and live beside your heart, so close to your vital organ, floating in its warmth. He longed to open your ribs right now and bury his face inside your torso. It would surely feel good. He wondered if this was how babies felt in the womb of the person carrying them. It must be comforting… He felt a little jealous. He briefly considered whether he could transfigure a womb to safely enter you. It must be interesting, but the thought was quickly forgotten. He knew that most humans were disturbed by such mixed and perverse things. There was no merit in the possibility of scaring you with anything; it would lose its credibility as a pitiful curse.
Even so, lying in your bed, cuddling with you, wasn't enough. He wanted to lick your marrow, to be inside you, to make more holes to admire, to swallow you whole, but at the same time, he wanted to be in your mouth.
Just thinking about it made him sigh with excitement.
"Do you feel better now?"
You asked, still gently rubbing his back. Mahito nodded slightly but remained clinging to you, making no effort to move. You sighed in defeat and simply closed your eyes. You'd probably sleep in this position, so you'd better get comfortable.
Hearing your sigh of indulgence, Mahito wondered if you would accept these perverse things, if you would accept being his patent, his friend, and his lover all at once.