You're different-- Kokichi Oma x Shuichi Saihara (Oumasai)

*SMUT* The Pot

(Suichi's POV)

Wait, no- things weren't supposed to turn out like this. Things were absolutely, certainly, 100%, without a doubt in my mind, not supposed to turn out like this. Not at all. It was oh so dizzying. A headache with a throb that would not go away. Moths the size of a human brain, with wings fluttering from the inside. Freedom, so close yet so far. Wings banging and banging in a never-ending flapping without the rhythm of any sorts. And it just, hurts,
hurts, hurts so bad that everything became numb. Like a chill, so much like a chill.

My eyes widened in alarm, it was too quick when my body had come back go it's senses. Enveloped in a cold that instantly chilled me to my very core. Dead? A possibility that was just as conflicting as doubt. Everything felt real. Now that was undoubtedly true. Skin and bone, fingernail and tooth, heart and lungs. Not an inch out of place. The long lashes that bordered my eyes caught onto drops of water. Dew on grass, tears staining clothing. Whether I had already been submerged or not didn't concern me in the slightest. My arms, thousand-ton weights as I lifted them from below the liquified abyss below me to feel my hair. Oh, yuck. Of course it was wet. Cold, fine strands, attached to my scalp. I instantly pulled my hands away, allowing my fingertips to revive from the horrific texture. An instinct that couldn't be stopped. I bit my lip, hard enough to nearly draw blood. Damn, it was cold. A chill that nearly numbed me from head to foot. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, as if each being pricked by transparent fingers. It was too cold, so, so cold and numbing, and oh-holy shit it's freezing and it just will not go away. I swear I can't feel my arms, oh God. It's so cold. Holy shit, it's cold-cold-cold-

Oh, there's Oma.

(As if it was even possible), Oma seemed in a condition worse than mine. Tears nearly frozen on his pale face, water dripping rhythmically off his dreads. His teeth chattered, so hard I swore they'd break. Like glass, just falling into broken shards into his mouth. Guilt washed over me, numbing me faster than the freezing water ever could. I didn't deserve this, not even Oma deserved this. I gently grabbed his shoulder, pulling his limp body close, taking caution as to not grip him too tightly.

"Hold me tighter, please. Tighter."

Without thought, my hands gripped onto his fabric as tight as I could. I wanted to pull him so close, give him a gentle smile, all the while assuring him everything'll be just fine, I was here for him, after all. However, I stayed quiet, watching Oma released a shaky exhale into my chest. I observed Oma, for his age, he was a bit below average. Height and weight. His eyes were a pale lilac, the same shade as a decaying flower petal. His hair was filthy, black curls with slightly violet ends drenched in water. Yet, it seemed so soft. Too soft, almost. He was pale, a bit paler than I, baby soft skin as pale as it could've been.

Alas, Oma looked up from his place, gentle eyes with a warming smile on his lips.

"Thank you, Saihara,"

There was a pause between his words, looking up at me and placing a light peck on my lips.

"for being so kind to me."

His lips were chapped and dry, not at all full. Rather, they were unpleasant. But that was no matter, they were still Oma's lips; so that just made me want to kiss them more. "Oma." My voice was devoid of emotion, I was certain it was supposed to come out as such. He looked up at me once more, that same gentle smile tugging father up Oma's lips. His frail hands drifted away from my chest, one arm snaking down mine, interlocking our hands for just a moment before drifting away, much too out of reach.