The moment that Enmu had looked at Douma had been the moment of his doom. The moment that his cyan eyes had met Douma's rainbow ones had been the moment that sealed Enmu's fate. And the moment that Douma had touched his soul had been the moment that had pulled him into never ending despair.

To be touched by an angel was a blessing, or so they said. But for Enmu, it was a curse. The seemingly heavenly essence of Douma's touch had infected him with the deadliest disease of them all.

Emotional addiction.

Whenever he saw his figure in school, Enmu felt himself being pulled towards the god-like presence. There was a dread in his heart; as if an uncuttable thread had bound him to Douma. But at the same time, there was an unbreakable wall between them. Because Enmu was still aware of what he was, and of what Douma was.

Enmu worshipped Douma. There were no flaws in his divine being; the way he walked, talked, thought and acted was absolutely perfect. Enmu couldn't understand how so many people could find him annoying or off-putting. Douma was so charismatic, intelligent, handsome, funny, thoughtful... he was so everything. And Enmu could never get enough of him.

It was absurd that before, he had found Douma extremely annoying and offputting as well. But that day at the ice skating arena had turned Enmu into a completely different person. The usually numb and indifferent boy was suddenly feeling things. He was warm and emotionally at his limit at the same time. He felt so much, both positive and negative emotions, and it was all only for Douma.

Even though he liked to deny it, Enmu was well aware of what was happening to him. He had a huge crush on Douma.

This wasn't new to him. He had crushed on people before, most of them having been boys. Muzan was a great example for that. However, his feelings had never been this intense and allrounding. But Douma was different from all of the other people. He was special. Therefore, Enmu's feelings were no surprise.

Enmu had always been a distant crusher. Whenever a person spiked his interest, he started stalking them, secretly obsessing over them and simply admiring them from a distance. Never in the world would he think about approaching them and trying to catch their attention as well. Most of the time, people didn't even know that Enmu existed, and he was fine with that.

But Douma knew that Enmu existed. They had been alone together; ice skating while holding each other as if they were lovers. Enmu could never forget that.

And here was the thing that made this experience different from all of Enmu's previous ones: Douma couldn't forget it either.

Every time they walked past each other in school, Douma greeted Enmu. He greeted him, and sometimes even followed him, or asked him to join him and his friends. It was such an unusual occurrence to Enmu that he really didn't know how to handle it.

And every time the other approached him, Enmu quickly ran away. Because no matter how much he loved Douma, he also despised him. He was the reason for Enmu's greatest suffering.

Enmu didn't want to give himself false hope. He was already suffering enough because he needed Douma, but knew that he couldn't have him. If he started thinking that Douma could actually want him as well, he would fall much deeper and get even more hurt.

Because... There was no way that Douma could actually like him.

None of Enmu's crushes had ever liked him back, it was normal. And living in his small, indifferent and isolated bubble had made it easy to deal with that; Enmu had become content with himself and his creep nature. But Douma had changed everything; because of him, Enmu felt worthless and vulnerable again. Because he knew that Douma could never love him.

Enmu also felt like he didn't deserve Douma. A lowly freak like him was not meant to be with an angel like Douma. Enmu was a shadow, what could he even do? Stalking people and obsessing over trains?? Douma was perfect. He was good at everything; school, sports, social interaction, love... He was way out of Enmu's league. Everyone wanted him, while Enmu wasn't even spared a glance.

What could he ever do to deserve those divine hands to touch him again?? Nothing. Him and Douma weren't even friends, and Enmu was far from being a love interest to him. He wasn't even attractive, let alone interesting.

Plus, Enmu knew that Douma was going to throw him away anyway, after all, he was of no use. He could never be able to fulfill Douma's needs and desires, and could never give him what he deserved. So of course, he was not allowed to even be near him. All Enmu could do was dream.

And all the time, his heart was filled with guilt. Guilt, for wanting something that wasn't his. Guilt, for blaming Douma for all of his suffering. And guilt, for envying him.

Because that was another curse that Enmu could never get rid of: Jealousy.

He envied Douma for everything; for his looks, his charms, his talents... He was better than Enmu on so many levels. He was seen by others, he was someone. And despite never admitting it, Enmu actually secretly dreamed of being seen.

Sometimes, he didn't even know if he wanted to be Douma or wanted Douma to be his. All Enmu knew was that he was obsessed with him. Nothing in his life mattered anymore, only Douma. The only thing that he could think about was him, Douma. And the only one who Enmu took stalker photos of at this point was of course him too, Douma.

He hated it, because it ate and drained him out from inside, but his whole life revolved around Douma. Of course, he could never show that though. Enmu could only hide his feelings like he always did. Because if someone found out, that would make him vulnerable.

The curse was never ending. The feeling of being addicted to something that one could never deserve was the worst. And Enmu knew he didn't deserve Douma; his poisoning envy alone was already enough to taint both of them. And if Enmu tainted the angel that was Douma, he'd never be able to forgive himself. Douma was way too special for him.

~

Douma was an empty person. Nothing in his life had a meaning.

Of course, some things were still important.

Like food.

However, nothing that he touched ever seemed to have depth inside.

And everything was so empty.

Just like him.

No matter what Douma found interest in, it always bored him to death after some time. He felt no connection, and was always desperate to dispose of what he didn't need. And he didn't need anything.

Douma never told his parents, but all of his interests, all of his passions, and all of his happiness were fake. But if he didn't pretend, what use would there be in living anymore? He had no purpose. If he died, nothing would come to waste, since there was nothing inside of him.

When he looked into the mirror, he saw a picture-perfect man. He was charismatic, intelligent, handsome, funny, thoughtful... But for what? All of these qualities didn't make him feel less empty. Plus, they served no purpose.

Douma was well aware that a lot of people admired him, or felt attracted to him. He found it quite amusing that no one seemed to see what a nobody he actually was. All these people were so blind, and they could only see what they wanted to see.

Douma was not like them. He didn't care about anything, so he tended to look behind the curtains. And even if he didn't seem like it, he knew how much some certain people despised him. He didn't mind it though.

From an outsider's view, Douma was the perfect man, maybe just a little perverted, but still extremely talented and fun; like a social butterfly. But inside, he felt like a lone wolf. None of his friends really understood him, and none could see behind his facade. Except maybe Akaza and Muzan, who despised him. Douma didn't feel any real concern towards his friends. But he still saw them as rather entertaining boredom curers sometimes.

And yeah, his boredom. It was immeasurable. Douma was a human on the constant and desperate search for entertainment. Something that would make him live a little longer.

But nothing ever helped. Even if he seemed careless, superficial and jumpy, in reality, Douma was looking for something deep. And nothing ever was deep enough.

He wanted the feelings to stay, but he couldn't keep them. There was no connection. And he lost interest after some time. But Douma didn't mind it at this point. It was always like that for him, and he had gotten used to it.

A small part of Douma hated himself. For lying to all the people; for being empty and not good like his parents had dreamed; for not having purpose. Sometimes, he thought it would be better if he could just die. Because he had no purpose anyway. But then again, he didn't care. And existing and getting on other people's nerves was way more fun.

One could ask themselves why Douma even still bothered to keep up his facade of perfection, if he didn't care anyway. And Douma didn't know either.

Maybe because some part of him was ashamed of what he was. Was he scared of disappointing people? Especially his parents? Or maybe, it was simply easier to live that way. A perfect person had it way easier in society than an empty one. And Douma wasn't one to resort to unnecessary conflict.

But another possibility was... that he wanted to give himself just the tiny bit of an illusion that his life had a purpose. That all of the things he did weren't just all for nothing. That his influence on people actually changed something for the better.

When in reality, nothing mattered. None of the people he knew actually cared about him. Not even his parents did. All they had ever seen in him were the good deeds he could do. But there were no good deeds if there was no good heart.

Douma wasn't bothered by that at all. He just looked at all the people from his tiny cloud, observing them. He wasn't lonely, and he wasn't happy either. It was okay.

It was okay, and simply the way of Douma's existence. A total emotional isolation. Nothing more, nothing less. Emptiness.

But there was something about him... that wasn't satisfied. Satisfied with his meaningless existence, and satisfied with his emptiness. Because all the time, he still felt like something was missing. That something wasn't functioning right. That something was wrong with him.

He didn't really care of course. But there was still an awful dread in his heart, that he couldn't connect to his feelings. And the empty space where Douma's heart was supposed to be... it felt like it was longing to be filled. Only very subtly, but still longing.

But he was still empty. Even though he tried to be open, friendly to everyone; a social butterfly. No one ever cared, and none of his feelings for others stayed.

Maybe that was because he never meant it. He was in a mental conflict, because on the one hand, Douma wanted to feel, wanted to connect with someone and share a mutuality with them.

On the other hand, none of the people deserved his attention. They were pitiful, superficial and dumb. They were apathetic, indifferent and vile. They were delusional, living in their own bubble. But Douma knew that he was just the same. So he couldn't really blame them. And since he was so aware of the true nature of society, the only reason why his friendships lasted was the forced shared environment that they all resided in.

But there was something else that existed. And that something was love.

Douma had tried to love multiple times. And of course, none of his attempts had been successful. He had crushed on various girls before, finding them sexually attractive, and since he was quite handsome, charming and perfect in every way, it had never taken him much effort to rizz those girls up.

However, none of his relationships had ever lasted for longer than two weeks. Because there was no depth inside those girls, no purpose, no meaning; all they ever wanted was to satisfy themselves. Just like Douma. And no matter how hard he tried, he was never able to build a connection.

Not even with Shinobu, that girl of whom he had thought that she had made him feel genuine love. Because she had hated him, and a relationship with him would have been her worst nightmare. And it was the same with the boys. Most of them wouldn't admit they were gay, and if they did, they were not attracted to Douma, sometimes even disgusted by him.

He had always bet everything on love. Love was that one thing that he feared most, but also desired most. The most intense feeling. If nothing was able to carve him open, then love surely could, right? If friendship, family and other relationships couldn't give him the depth, the connection, the mutuality that he craved, then love surely could, right??

But the thing was, Douma couldn't love. And his attempts at it had been way more humiliating than his attempts at other relationships.

Possibly, because no one saw him as a human being. He was perfect, a divine creature, and nothing else mattered. Everyone wanted a piece of him. But it was all okay, since he didn't care anyway.

And at this point, he didn't want it all. He was tired of trying, tired of the people. Tired of his friends, tired of his family, and tired of love.

But suddenly…

Everything changed.

Okay, not literally everything.

But Douma's heart changed.

And it happened…

On one goddamn fateful day.

At the ice skating arena.

The cause for the change in his heart was simple.

And its name was…

Enmu.

Throb.

Pound.

Beat.

Douma could feel his heart.

The memory was so vivid in his mind.

Enmu's smaller hand in his own.

Just the two of them, and the ice skating rink.

His rainbow-coloured orbs staring into cyan ones.

At this very moment, Douma had felt something.

Something, that he had never felt before.

He couldn't quite describe it, but he knew that it felt good.

Breathtaking.

Captivating.

Mesmerizing.

Looking into Enmu's deep, cyan eyes had been like losing himself in a dream. A dream, that he never wanted to wake up from. A sweet dream, coming to take him from reality. A true blessing.

Douma had shared intimate moments with his lovers multiple times. At times sexually, at times just in the sense of spending some moments alone. But never in his lifetime had Douma experienced anything this intense. Let alone with a half-stranger like Enmu.

It had felt magical.

And for the first time in his life, Douma had felt like he had a connection with someone.

Even if only for a few short moments.

Douma didn't know what it meant, but he knew that it had been one of the most meaningful events of his life. After all, he still couldn't forget about it.

Enmu was special. Douma had never noticed him, but that day at the ice skating arena had opened his eyes. And now, that he had seen Enmu, he couldn't forget about him.

There was something about him that made him so different from all the other people. When Douma had looked into his beautiful, cyan eyes, he had seen something. He had seen depth. A depth so beautiful, so mysterious, so fulfilled and so different from his own emptiness. His eyes had colour, unlike those empty shells of all the other people.

And even though he did not like to admit it, Douma felt himself growing hopeful. Hopeful, that with Enmu, he could have that connection, that mutuality, that he dreaded so much but still wanted the most; that Enmu could fill that void in his heart, and that Enmu could make him feel love.

Because that was exactly what he was starting to feel right now. Douma was in love with Enmu.

Everything about him was just so intriguing. His looks, his personality, his behaviour. It was all so beautiful. Douma couldn't help but feel drawn to him. It was like magnetism.

And every time Douma saw Enmu, it became clearer. He wanted him. No, he needed him. Enmu was like a drug, and he was the addict. It was as if that day at the ice skating arena had connected their hearts with an uncuttable thread.

But unlike all of those other people that Douma had wanted in the past, Enmu didn't spark that sexual desire inside of him. Or, at least, not purely that. For Douma, it would have been enough to simply be with him, to hold his hand, to talk to him.

But unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Douma had tried to approach Enmu multiple times, but the other always ignored him or tried to avoid him at all costs.

Douma really wondered why that was the case. Had he done something wrong? Or did Enmu… simply not like him…?

The thought scared him more than he would have liked to admit. Getting rejected was not a new experience for Douma; for he had just as many haters as he had fangirls. But the thought of getting rejected by Enmu… No, that was too much.

For once in his lifetime, Douma was scared that he could simply not be enough for someone. Normally, he was in a rift between 'I don't care about anyone' and 'I need to be the perfect person that everyone thinks I am'; but in the end, if someone disliked him, it didn't matter. He just continued living life.

But with Enmu, it suddenly did matter. And suddenly, Douma started having doubts. What if Enmu knew? What if Enmu knew about his emptiness?? And if he did, would that make him hate Douma???

Douma normally wasn't one to doubt everything, especially not himself. But right now, the doubts were really eating him out. Was it even possible that Enmu could like him? A creature full of depth and essence… Could it love a worthless, empty shell like Douma…?

And… did he even deserve to be loved by Enmu? Did he deserve to have that one feeling that seemed to make him happy and fulfilled be reciprocated? After all, what was he? What was Douma, other than a liar, a poser and a waste of space?

He was truly scared. Scared, that no matter how hard he tried to love, to be good, it would never be enough. And that finally, the karma for all the times he had lied to people and broken their hearts with his apathy and inability to keep feelings would get to him; and he wouldn't get that one thing that he wanted the most.

But that wasn't the only thing. Because of course, what Douma feared most was still love itself. The feeling was so foreign to him, he couldn't comprehend it or control it, and this helplessness was absolutely terrifying.

Plus, Douma was aware of the dark side of love. He knew how much it could hurt you, how much people suffered from it. Feelings were fatal, and especially people who loved each other very much were to get cut on each other's edges often.

And Douma didn't want all of these feelings. They were new and probably too much for him. Sometimes, he was truly glad that he was emotionless, and wanted it to stay that way. Because that way, he didn't have to deal with all of those people problems…

If he was being honest, Douma was scared that he would snap. That all of those feelings would be too much for him. And that he'd be too weak to handle