Olikase Oneshots

Behind Glassy Eyes

Life was and has always been a monotonous endurance. Day by day, people went through their routines, not thinking about the meaning behind their mechanic gestures, and especially not minding the many possibilities to break through. There was much more to life than following rules and customs. 

Fukase liked to believe so and lived by ideals only he could fully grasp. Not that he needed the affirmation from people around him anyway, but it was something he proudly reminded himself of. Fukase was by no means brave enough to break the law, but the very least he allowed himself was to slip away from society's term of normality every now and then.

His shift at work was almost over and he sighed relieved. Just like every day, his body tore apart under the dissatisfaction reality served him. However, as soon as he remembered what the break to dusk meant for him, a wide smile grew on his face.

Fukase overflowed with euphoria every time he would return back home. There was no place more warming than the nest he had built up all for himself. No one could disturb him in his timeless slumber of dancing stars and whistling breezes. His daydreams were no mere imagination, but he could escape reality for just a moment. He parked his car and hurried to the apartment complex; it wasn't a long way anymore.

"I'm back home, Oliver!" Fukase almost cheered and stumbled into the apartment. He could barely contain the blossoming rhapsody rushing through his veins as he quickly undressed himself from his outwear and washed both his hands and face. There was no response yet, but the redhead pretended to hear a warming melody nevertheless.

With a smile as wide as the very seven seas, Fukase escaped out of his tedious wait to finally unite with his full life's purpose. Eyes travelled back on the figure sitting on the edge of the bed, just where he had last laid glance on. 

Fukase reached out his hands and framed the petite face in them, dragging it closer to his own. Several kisses settled down across the soft skin, and Fukase could feel his blood prickling in his veins. Pulling back robbed him his breath, but he took the chance to examine the all too lively figure right in front of him.

"You're still as beautiful as always. Are you trying to kill me?"

Fukase chuckled and got back up. He wanted to hold Oliver much closer and much longer—desperate to find back his way to what made him happy the most in this monochrome world—yet he had to change out of anything that touched reality first, and the painful grumbling of his stomach didn't quite let him do so as well.

"You're hungry too, aren't you? What do you want to eat?"

Oliver continued to rest on the bed silently, and so, Fukase made his way into the kitchen with his smile unwavering. Even though he was tired and his back hurt and there was nothing more he wanted to do than to lie down with Oliver, Fukase forced himself to come up with something special for dinner. Oliver has been looking sad the past few days, and he figured that good food would cheer him up for sure. Fukase couldn't have the blond be feeling blue, and so, with freshly scooped-out determination, he tried harder than he did yesterday.

"Dinner's ready."

Fukase hummed content as he returned to the bedroom with two plates in his hands. He pushed the door close and kneeled down in front of the blond, holding one of the plates up his face. Oliver did not move, and Fukase's hand started to shake from the weight. Despite the numbing silence, the warm smile on the redhead widened a little more.

"You don't want to eat right now? That's okay. You can have it later too."

Fukase put the plate on the nightstand, despite knowing that Oliver was not going to eat. No matter how many times he would offer him all the delicacies of this world, the blond would not touch the plate. Fukase knew that. Oliver was a doll, after all—merely a motionless and soulless one. It would not eat, not walk, not speak and never respond to his dearest gestures.