#just stare deeply into mhins eye for now

[candiedbrain]

wip

[sparrowsupportgroup]

₊˚.༄ sweetness for the void ₊˚.༄

“Sweetness that can burn the tongue, that’s what Mhin hungered for.”

pairing: kuras/mhin

fandom: touchstarved

a/n: a lil’ story that I wrote for someone for the Secret Cupid gift exchange :) I hope y’all enjoy!!!!!

Sweetness that can burn the tongue, that’s what Mhin hungered for.

In the bitter nights, as the blood of a wretched Soulless stained their clothes and hands and face, Mhin’s stomach would feel a strange pang, their stiletto knife heavy in their grasp. Mhin would scan the despicable body for any signs of life - for the mere flutter of an eyelid, for the tick of a pulse under vile, translucent flesh, for the weak, grating rasp of something unworthy trying to cling to life, trying to survive - before delivering the killing blow, their blade sinking into the beast’s jugular with little effort.

Sometimes, Mhin would slit a Soulless’ throat knowing it was already dead, not for any reason beyond the grim satisfaction of the further destruction of something they deeply detested. It was their work; it was their responsibility. But on nights like those, that queer pang would throb in the core of them, like a second, sicker heartbeat, much more prominent than the many pulses before it.

As the vermin’s blood began to pool at the toes of their boots, their pallid, somber face shining back at them in the gore, Mhin finally realized the size of the void expanding inside them; this void was a galaxy, a phenomenon, a dark whirlpool that devoured the light and the stars and the moon in search of the one thing it desperately carved.

Sweetness that can soothe the ache; that’s what Mhin wanted but would never admit.

But Kuras knew. Kuras always knew what was wrong, even when something ails the soul and not the body.

Mhin tried not to make eye contact with the doctor; they didn’t want the hopeful, almost demure gleam of Kuras’s eyes to be imprinted in their mind, nor did they want his eyes to catch the vibrant flushing of their cheeks.

So, Mhin had no choice but to stare at Kuras’s present for them, being slid in their direction like a peace offering on a plate: a slice of a spongy light brown and white cake crowned with red and blue berries, smelling of warmth and loveliness.

“It’s a gift,” Kuras murmurs, a gentle smile playing on his lips that made Mhin’s stomach lurch pleasantly, though they refused to understand why. “A cake. Angel food cake, to be exact.”

Kuras’s eyes sang with a certain whimsy then, as if he and the universe were in on a miraculously clever inside joke that Mhin wasn’t privy to.

When Mhin didn��t say anything for quite some time, Kuras’s brows immediately furrowed with apologetic empathy. “I did not make the cake myself if that is your concern.” Kuras smiled again, but there was a melancholic glow to it now. “My attempts at baking have been…less than satisfactory, I’m disappointed to admit. I thought it was in your best interest to purchase a cake instead.” Kuras’s eyes shifted away, as if ashamed, and Mhin’s heart sank. “I apologize that it is not to your liking.”

Mhin quickly picked up a fork. “That’s not it,” they bite out and instantly grimace, their voice sounding much harsher than they intended. Kuras looked at them, patient as ever, and Mhin silently cursed the way his golden eyes sparkled so earnestly, how the honeyed brightness of them stoked the dwindling flame within Mhin’s blackening spirit.

“It’s just…,” Mhin searched for the right words, their mind working faster than their mouth, much to their agitation. “Why? Why would you buy me a cake?”

This time, Kuras is silent for a moment. His ever-watchful eyes observed Mhin’s face for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, now three. Mhin felt like a moth, forcefully pinned yet anxiously fluttering, under Kuras’s arresting gaze. What do you see? What will you find? What do you want?

“I am concerned for you.” Kuras finally spoke, his eyes soft and beautiful like a sunrise, and Mhin swallowed, a strange warmth glowing inside their chest. “I believe you deserve something sweet, for all the troubles you have endured in Eridia.” Sweetness that can fill the void.

Sweetness cannot thrive in this festering city, in this decaying world; sweetness was to be drained from the root before it even had a chance to bloom from the cracked concrete. Mhin knew this all too well, tendrils of resentment snaking around their heart. Yes, they knew how cruel the world can be. But Kuras was different; Kuras was the sole white pearl entrapped in a sea of black tar. He has mended their wounds, protected them as they chased the fitful phantoms of sleep, stood beside them in the dirt and grim and racket of the Wet Wick, a comforting hand on their shoulder. Kuras would not harm them. Kuras would not harm them. He would not.

And so, even with the familiar venomous whisper in the back of their mind hissing, what if you’re not safe here? What if he’s not safe?, Mhin speared the slice of cake as if it were a floundering Soulless and stuffed the bits of the desert in their mouth and swallowed and -

Fluff. The taste of soft fluff, as if made from a sweet spring cloud woven by Kuras’s healing hands and sugared with notes of vanilla and nutmeg, coated Mhin’s tongue. All those nights when they would go to bed in the cold, alone and covered in blood, high from the adrenaline of a Soulless kill, with their stomach and soul empty; the many torturous days scouring Eridia for a cure for their curse, feeling lesser than an ant hunting for food on the sordid ground; the aching pit inside of them, ravenous and hollow and always demanding more more more, never content, never satisfied; it all faded away to nothing, to nothing more than gossamer webs spinning in the wind.

None of the pain mattered anymore. Nothing mattered except for the present, the moment where Mhin exists now, where they stuff their gullet full of sweet angel food cake and Kuras just drank it all in.

Mhin didn’t notice it then, but Kuras was subtly mirroring their movements, mimicking the flexing of their fingers around their fork, the rise and fall of their hand from the plate to their mouth, the savoring of a delicacy filled with both sugar and spice, loaded with fluff and joy.

With the sweetness still heavy on his tongue, Kuras watched Mhin eat the angel food cake across from him. For the first time in his long-suffering eons spent alive, Kuras felt true, aching hunger.