Ｆ•Ｒ•Ｅ•Ａ•Ｋ•Ｓ•Ｈ•Ｏ•Ｗ --- ＨＯＭＩＣＩＰＨＥＲ

𝟶𝟺 - 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎

As soon as M/n's head hit the couch, he was put like a light. There was silence in the room as (MC), Mr. Chopped, and Mr. Silvair watched the entity fall asleep.

The silver haired entity was angered, but only slightly. M/n was dirtying his couch, which he did not appreciate but would forgive for right now. He just simply walked over to the couch and moved M/n's head aside and onto his lap. The couches were rather firm, so clearly, he thought, that was the more comfortable option.

Mr. Chopped, rolled over to the two entities, and jumped on the couch, snuggling next to M/n's chest.

(MC) stood there a little awkwardly but decided not to comment that, but think about the more stranger things that were in her line of sight.

It was clear that she was most likely the shortest one there. Granted, she was human, but that provided the other's no excuse for being so freakishly tall.

Mr. Silvair was a solid 8'4, give or take.

Mr. Chopped probably had a real body, but that wasn't there, so she had no problem with him at the moment.

M/n, however, was just shy of 8'1. Only slightly shorter than Mr. Silvair.

(MC)'s neck was killing her, trying to look up and meet the other's gaze. That was until Mr. Silvair motioned her to sit down on the couch across from them. She happily obliged, overjoyed that she could finally have some rest time.

This gave (MC) time to think. M/n somehow could speak her language out of everyone's she's come across so far. She wondered if he would truly stay with her. That way, she could at least try and have some kind of normalcy along her journey in this odd place.

"ꂵꋪ. ꌗꉓꍏꋪ ꌗ꒒ꍟꍟꉣꌩ?"

"ꈤꂦ ꅏꂦꋪꋪꌩ. ꅏꍏ꓄ꉓꃅ ꃅꀎꂵꍏꈤ."

Mr. Chopped, who had asked the other about their friend, began to pout slightly at the blunt answer but got over it quickly at the mention of the girl in the room.

"꓄ꍟꍏꉓꃅ ꒒ꍏꈤꁅꀎꍏꁅꍟ?" Mr. Silvair asked the girl, who sat there, not knowing a single word of what he spoke to her. She just nodded and gave a small smile before making proper eye contact with Mr. Silvair and Mr. Chopped.

Mr. Silvair began to run his fingers through M/n's surprisingly soft hair. To (MC)'s surprise, the cold entity began to visibly relax under the other's touch, becoming less tense and uptight. She found the sight a little more amusing than cute, but she'd figured that she probably shouldn't focus on that for right now.

(MC) felt around in her pocket for something before pulling the object out. It was a small notepad and pen. M/n had given it to her on their way here. Now, it seemed that she would finally make use of it.

"ꂦꌃꀭꍟꉓ꓄?" Mr. Chopped questioned, making (MC) hum.

'So ꂦꌃꀭꍟꉓ꓄, could mean a thing...or notebook..? I'll write that down and M/n can check it later...' She thought to herself as she scribbled down the pronunciation and the meaning of the new word she had just learned.

She knew she was in for a lot, but (MC) saw learning to be better than surviving on her own.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

M/n slowly opened his eyes to a blank area. He knew he was not awake but rather in his own head.

A dream?

No. Only he knew that after what happened, he didn't have those anymore. It's not like he wished he did. Most of his rests were dreamless sleeps. This time, however, posed to be a little different.

M/n's headspace was now occupied with the sound of rain, another thing that he once found comfort in. The drops began coming down, bringing him back to that last moment before he was put in this disgusting body.

His breathing hitched as he tried to calm himself down.

'This isn't real. There's no way he figured out how to..'

His thoughts trailed off as he was suddenly covered by a familiar red umbrella. The sounds around him were muted as he slowly looked up to meet the red-haired entity gaze.

Mr. Scarletella had the same sympathetic smile he had on the moment that M/n was killed.

"ꂵꋪ. ꌗꉓꍏꋪ."

"ꁅꂦ."

Mr. Scarletella frowned and bent down to reach the level of M/n, who fell to his knees as soon as he felt the other's presence.

He tilted his head, confused as to why his "creation" was acting so cold towards him. Surely, he had given M/n enough time to cool down.

"ꈤꂦ꓄ ꃅꍏꉣꉣꌩ?" He asked, almost sadly as his grip on the umbrella handle tightened.

M/n did not answer, only glared.

"ꌩꂦꀎ ꍏ꒒ꀤꃴꍟ. ꌗꂦ ꅏꃅꌩ ꈤꂦ꓄?" Mr. Scarletella truly believed that he gave M/n a second chance. In his eyes, he gave M/n a better body. He wasn't weak anymore. It was an honor to be one of the ones to survive in this world.

The redhead traced one of M/n's scars that stretched out across the other's lip. Any other human would've found them ugly. But luckily, Mr. Scarletella was not human. So he truly didn't care. Not only that, he also found himself seeing them as beautiful.

To him. M/n was a work of art.

His work of art.

"ꌩꂦꀎ ꃅꀎꋪ꓄. ꀤ ꌗꍟꍟ ꈤꂦꅏ." He mused to M/n.

"ꈤꂦ ꅏꂦꋪꋪꌩ. ꀤ ꌗꍟꍟ ꌩꂦꀎ ꌗꂦꂦꈤ. ꓄ꃅꍟꈤ ꌩꂦꀎ ꃅꍏꉣꉣꌩ."

M/n's chest hurt. It was not his heart, but rather the fact that he hadn't taken a single breath ever since Mr. Scarletella touched him.

Though the touch was soft and caring, Mr. Scarletella was the last entity he would've ever let touch him.

He hoped that the other's he was with sensed his discomfort. So this nightmare would end quicker.

Mr. Scarletella stood up to his full high and began to walk away with a small huff.

M/n could come around soon enough.

He would make sure of it...