#everlastingcrown

He hardly knew what constituted a decent birthday because, well... it was not something he had any real experience in. His own birthday had been nothing special -- sentiments surprised him as they were shared in this place, but just as quickly as they had occurred, were gone. He had no room to feel such foolish emotions, anyway. Wasteful and stupid. Birthdays were human tradition, anyway -- what did it matter to vampires if you turned another year older? It was another year that kept you from the release of death.

But with her, it was different.

In their many unconscious conversations, her confusion had been parallel to his own. She did not understand most human acts and certainly emotions -- something he had begun to struggle with especially recently -- and yet, she was still... human, in a way. Or at least, that was all he could really call her. He didn't know or bother to ask otherwise; he wouldn't dare do something so bold as to care either way. Because he didn't. But even so, in his mind, she was a human and would therefore fall into the human way of... celebration.

He had problems with where to begin rather easily; how was he supposed to know what a human girl wanted in the first place?! Inori was.... strange. Not like the other dumbass human girls he had had the misfortune of meeting. Even though she looked like them, she hardly behaved like them.

And so he had settled for something that was, in his opinion, small and simple. It was all he knew how to do at this point; this mental declaration manifested into a modest bouquet of pink roses tied together onto her bed. How did he manage to get them in this winter? A card -- a plain white page -- was left to go with it... ah, what did they write in these dumb little things?

                                            "Happy birthday, Inori. Enjoy."

Easy and straightforward... as a realization hit, he paused with thought. Should he sign it? She probably already knew about this anyway so what was the point? ...Although perhaps he--yes, didn't he want her to...no. No, no! Stupid--

When he realized, yes, he did want her to know... he chose not to sign it. She could figure it out herself, he scoffed to himself with haste. He left the room, looking back at the tiny display for only a moment before continuing his leave.

                                                                                                     .... .... .... ...I hope you like it.

Subaru.

A name he had long detested simply because it belonged to him; a gift from his mother, his mother who hated him. In this sense, it was a gift he did not want. . . and he never wanted anything, really. He lacked desire, lacked wanting. . . what was he but an empty shell? Despicably terrible, a problem that could not be fixed. Could not be understood. What was there to understand but everything he wasn't? Unfixable, undeserving of this immortality, he hated to live and too cowardly to die--

His own name, a constant in his head. . . because it was a constant in hers. His name, spoken from a voice that resembled roses. Pink and soft if he dared to touch with his fingertips; did he still possess that care in such rigid hands? Like a passing wind, gentle yet hardly making a sound. A different universe appeared in the swells where a heart could exist just by listening.

He. . . listened. He had no choice. This was the newest development, one that forced them closer together than he could ever imagine. It was no longer simply a feeling, a romanticized version of what they could possibly be thinking. It was voices. . . Her voice.

In his head of hesitation and doubt, Inori joined his mother like a ghost, but she was not dead. They sometimes spoke together, unaware of the other but similar enough to drive a dagger through his chest.

                                                          Subaru. . .

She was very much alive. Especially now, she spoke and he felt the pain of searching. Of worry and critical thinking; problem solving, perhaps. He was not always so methodical but she was maternal and different. Her concern held the weight of clarity; her senses were heightened, perhaps in conjunction with his own. The full moon scratched and clawed at his skin. A monster that wanted its time to awaken. . . like many things, he attempted to swallow it back. Not yet, not now. His temper had significantly dulled in these months, sometimes hardly there to begin with. He hardly noticed himself, overcome with calm that had become more typical with each passing day. Rapidly, he was changing; alarmingly so after so many years of living only one way. He would not know that this is what it meant to be tied to someone so empty.

No, she was so full. Full of something. . . . something he hadn't felt before.

It frustrated him.

But despite what had become question after question of internal conflict, it would have to wait. The news had followed of this. . . event of sorts had become the priority. He didn't much care for a reward, especially not from the fuckin' asshole that ran this fucked up little operation. How annoying and predictable; there was no way it could possibly be anything good and whoever thought so deserved whatever trauma they'd receive for being such an idiot. But nevertheless, he had wandered towards "freedom" almost automatically, just as everyone else had, having heard her even then doing the same. His conscious thoughts and desires did not matter: his body wanted to move and now his body needed to find her.

                                                                                                                                          Inori.

≪ ø ≫ It's entirely an accident how he sees her for the first time in this place. 

He's wandering outside, near the buildings that compose the facilities, exploring to gain a better understanding of his new home (the word leaves a foul taste in his mouth and longing in his heart). He turns and, for the briefest of moments, he sees her disappear into a building. A mix of emotions flood his mind, their strength overpowering whatever emotions his partner possessed. 

Happiness, fear, and disappointment control him as he rushes after her. The distance is short, but he runs so quickly that he's out of breath by the time he sees her whole form. If his his heart rate could rise any further, he's sure he would have a heart attack. 

"I-Inori," he says between heavy breaths. With slow deliberate steps, he closes the distance between them and finally pulls her into a tight embrace. He feels overjoyed, but other thoughts cuts the moment short. Fear raises questions in his mind: Why is she in such a place? What if she's paired with a horrible person? What if her partner is eroding her mind? And then one particularly sick thought appears: why wasn't I paired with her? He hates to admit he's disappointed that he doesn't feel that intrinsic draw to her; he doesn't feel her emotions; even his love for her is tempered by his partner's love for another, and it hurts.