Cut Me Clean

Push Me, Pull Me

"Counting the stars and scars, how I've become a work of art!"

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His voice. It's the melody of a million dreamers, beautiful and real. The symphony crawls out to another's mind, drills deep and sits there. It can just be vocalizing or harmonizing. And it still sounds immaculate. A sound Enmu wants to go deaf under. Makes him giggle and ease, his heart race and spike like never before. It's as if the need to reach for that rusted piece of steel and let it dance across his body, is no longer there. An escape. That's not pain. A bliss, that doesn't scar the insomniac.

The only need that sits within him is Douma. Love him. Enjoy him thoroughly. And don't let anyone interfere or intimidate the rest of what's to come.

Douma is a beautiful man. He wants him. Enmu doesn't know why it had happened so easily. Just the sight, the perfect face that beautiful voice. The way he wishes he would look at him. The shortcut to heaven, through those eyes. He wants to be drowned by him. Dawned beneath the water, perhaps with him. He'd hold him tenderly, and though Enmu's own would be possessive and dependent. Douma wouldn't let him go. He knows it.

Would never lose his bittersweet, undistinguishable taste in his mouth. Soft skin pressed to his own, arms reaching out.

Who is he kidding?

Someone like Douma wouldn't step anywhere near him. He's dirty, he's weird. The thought makes that damn pang grow harder in his stomach, alongside the need. A dream is only a mere dream. No reality exists in anything. Besides these songs. Enmu has basically listened to them all within a couple nights after Mukago and Kamanue left him alone with this information. Pure ecstasy.

He'll have to get back into that hobby.

What was it again?

His head darts around the room, perfection blaring. Staying that way. His depraved gaze lands on the table set by their beds, covered in dust sits . . .

A damn digital camera.

Hurriedly, the insomniac feels his hands move on their own. Reaching out. Grabbing ahold of it, brushing the dust off. Though the denser crevices are definitely going to need a good clean. No matter. Enmu just needs to capture him in the frames. He will keep him forever in a photograph, a surprising fluster rushes over him, seeing those videos and pictures others have taken. Could he ever make his resemble those? Ah! And how will he even get the chance to take the pictures?!

Envy. For a reason that makes his head ache all the more. However he pays it little to no attention. All the attention goes to this perfect man who is so close yet so far from him.

A ringing irritates his thoughts, he grumbles. Only to lighten up at the sight of the little, cracked screen.

Mukago's prominent number and contact, ringing an old melody. Awaiting her answer.

"Hey, mumu~!"

He has never been happier to hear a girl speak. Immediately, a smile drags itself onto his lips.