Mad God's Love [Dark, enemies-to-lovers BL]

16 O 2

"Since I seem to be shopping for a new coat, shall we get something for you, too?" monster offered.

Great idea. New me needs to look different, too. Desperate for distraction, I asked for too enthusiastically, "Can we drop by in some body shop and grab me a new face too?" I've never been inside any of the optional luxurious shops, scraggly orphan that I was, but surely, skincare isle must include replacement patches at very least.

"Anything you wish for," rasping intensity assured me and I got impression of him being pleased for whatever reason.

"Tacky," I frowned at him back.

Several hazy steps forward and we were inside an empty, but shiny mall. It was a painfully familiar sight. I'd occasionally pickpocket here right until figuring out the layout wasn't optimal for escape. Sour memories almost ruined the fragile balance of my mind, but then I saw window-case full of life-like masks and burst out laughing. I had no idea how a legal and out-in-the-open organ market would look like, but this didn't disappoint.

"Hey, how you think I try it on?" I pointed while clearing tears off my eyes. "Get an attendant, who's actually a surgeon?" Because from up close they ceased to look all that artificial and crafted. As tasteless as the merchandise was, the display sold it completely. Clean and sleek body parts didn't look remotely out of place in this commerce hub.

Though the dream was starting to drift into more familiar ground. As I looked into empty socket holes, began to wonder about their donors. Too pretty. Nobody would have volunteered those.

Big hands clasped my shoulders and I jumped, unsuccessfully. "It's a dream. They're not real," gritty voice whispered in my ear, pushing away my bloodier delusions. "Just imagine adjusting each of your features to match what you see."

Apparently it was as easy as thinking about it. My dream - my rules, it would seem. Okay, makes sense. Shrugged and got to flexing my imaginary muscles.

I wandered into the shop to look for a mirror. The face was wrong all over and appalled scowl only improved it. I laughed again and kept trying to fix it. How much worse my life would have been if I was ugly? Because it wasn't only my mouth that got me out of various messes. Something about my panicked wide-eyed expression soothed my predators-to-be and victims alike.

I know for a fact that being actually pretty would have landed me into nastier cages than what I've already had displeasure of visiting. People oh so dearly loved keeping beautiful things under lock and key. It was best not to catch the eye of too many.

What I meant to say was that I liked my face. But now I wasn't even sure how it looked like anymore. Restored the disfigured features back into semblance of average, then gave it a rest and just browsed the morbid isles. Faces with closed lids looked almost normal. Peaceful. Not at all cadaverous.

"You're not getting anything?" I asked, keeping an eye on the eerily still set of horns that stuck out above cases even from this far away. Out of habit I kept looking over my shoulder, waiting for an angry shopkeeper to chase my broke ass out, but there was nobody else.

"Pick something for me," he suggested and I huffed. What a way of getting out of a chore.

"What do you usually chose when you want to blend in? You had to have visited big cities before."

Dismissive huff before he spoke from right behind me, "That's what mouths are for. I don't need to blend in with anyone."

I crossed my arms and stared at the dark hood, "You're just afraid to have it because you've no idea how face works."