it surged through hugo's body as he woke up just at the crack of dawn, and he couldn't help but remain paralysed as he lay there, curled up in his personal ball.
he reached for his phone to call porter but ended up knocking it off his nightstand.
' shit .' he thought to himself. should he tell a doctor? even just check it out in the bathroom?
he had pinpointed the pain to his left eye, oddly specific but he started to lose vision in the very same eye, and he ended up just covering it, until he felt a thick liquid streaming past the boundaries that hugo once set.
' dont cry. don't think about crying .' he had never wanted to be seen as weak, so he eventually taught himself that he couldn't cry.
once he got to a mirror, he examined his eye and saw that his white sclera was gone completely in his left eye, replaced with red, and blood streaming out somehow.
" no ! this cannot be happening!" his words came tumbling out in a mixture of french and english.
he tried to wipe the blood away, he even pinched himself to make sure it wasn't a dream, or a nightmare.
however, since he had a very high pain tolerance, he didn't feel anything. so the next dream test was to look at a clock, or try to read something.
' okay, i'm not in a dream. ' he breathed a sigh of relief as he set about retrying to clear the blood. if his parents saw this, he'd be straight into hospital, or even to a priest for an exorcism.
hugo soaked tissue after tissue with the blood but it wasn't clearing up soon.
he willed it to stop, even prayed for it to stop, the pain was killing him mentally. he normally would've had a high pain tolerance for the rest of his body, but not his head .
' what is happening to me ?'
the man grabbed his phone and called porter. he'd know what to do.
his breathing started to slow and become ragged, but he called porter anyway, if he worried, he worried. hugo couldn't seem to stop the "bleeding".
" porter? you there? i've run into a bit of a situation ."
the phone hung up and no less than ten minutes later, hugo found porter on his doorstep, breathing heavily, as if he'd just sprinted, with sweat beading on his forehead.
"i got your call, i- hugo what the fuck happened to your eye ?!" porter began, cut himself off, then cut himself off again, shocked at how this could possibly happen to his friend.
the french man seemed sorrowful, but his bloody eye only showed signs of smugness, like he was half demon.
"i'm just as perplexed as you are, porter." hugo felt a weird mix of guilt and pleasure tugging at his chest. he hated scaring porter, but something was corrupting his mind to make him think he was happy whilst he was terrifying his best friend.
continually rubbing his eye and trying to get the blood away was a pain, especially on his eye, but he couldn't help it.
feeling the blood pour through his hands, he heard dark thoughts pour into his mind, and it was unexplainable.
but his consciousness was slipping away.
he passed out on the floor in front of porter, writhing and wriggling around like a worm about to be stomped on by some tiny child.
porter picked him up bridal style, and carried him to the sofa before wrapping the french man up in a blanket, leaving a rather large towel underneath him to catch any dripping blood.
even if his lover was becoming a demon, porters feelings wouldn't change. even if that was his downfall, he loved hugo no matter what.
hugo was still writhing and wriggling, mostly in pain, some of it just from him being so uncomfortable on the sofa.
all porter did was sit for a while in the kitchen, on the hardwood chairs that he knew hugo adored, and just thought.
thought about how he could handle this.
about what could, or would, happen if his lover was a demon - maybe even half demon.
would hugo's feelings for him change or would they just stay the same?
* * *
hours later, after hugo woke up, porter noticed that the french man refused to make eye contact, or even speak to porter, which made porter a little uneasy.
only hugo knew why he wouldn't speak to porter, and that's because if he spoke, it was gravelly, deep, and putrid.
it wasn't his lighthearted voice. it was some horrid mix of demon and light, thick french.
his eyes were burning, burning from the pain of the "demon".
he only murmured in a low voice, barely audible as he walked around the kitchen, doing his regular thing, and he refused to speak to porter.
his canine teeth were significantly sharper. like a vampire, but a little more blunt.
if hugo was to sum up his emotions in one word, it's fear.
what would he do if porter didn't like the "new" him?
as he sat down, he feared. feared for porter, feared for his family, hell, he even feared for porters family.
he didn't know how dangerous this was.
an exasperated sigh resounded through the small room. it wasn't a sound hugo would make, so only one other person was left in the room.
and that other person just let out another sigh, standing up, and looking at hugo.
"what is with you right now?! you're ignoring me, and you're not even looking at me!" he couldn't find words to express his emotions to hugo so all he did was point out what was going on.
hugo never looked up, he never looked down, nor would he speak. he didn't want to terrify porter like he terrified himself.
" hugo!" he hated to shout but he felt he had no choice. porter hated being ignored.
growling, hugo turned to look at porter, blood red 'orbs' glaring straight into porters deep brown eyes.
his heart jumped. he didn't expect hugo to ever growl at him.
it was a bit of a shock.
well, 'a bit' is a massive understatement. porter was scared shitless , but he kept his composure.
"why are you ignoring me?" he kept a firm tone to his voice, and although he hated seeming like he was giving orders, he had to.
hugo tilted his head slightly, almost mockingly, smiled darkly, and a deep, gravelly, almost croaky voice leaves his mouth.
" n'aimerais-tu pas savoir ?"
porter knew this statement or question all too well. hugo had been teaching him french in-between their make out sessions, and told him that ' n'aimerais-tu pas savoir ?' was an awkward question because it didn't make sense.
and he shivered.
shivered at hugo using a technically incorrect sentence, and shocked that he was growling .
honestly, he didn't want to talk to hugo, because one wrong move spells disaster for both of them.
the foreign man stood menacingly, and walked slowly to porter, then bent down, not that he was crouching, but that he was bending over porter.
their faces were incredibly close, and hugo did nothing but move his hand closer to porters temple.
touching it with his middle and ring finger, the pain that porter had next was indescribable. it was like being stabbed, and twisting the knife.
he could feel his eye burn, and he could feel tears streaming from one eye, but a much thicker, less liquid like substance pouring from his other eye, and he glared at hugo, before standing up abruptly and grabbing the man by his jacket collar, growling deeply. " what have you done to me !?" his screaming echoed out through the room, then cut off sharply as a loud ringing noise resounded through his ears, causing sheer agony , enough to make him drop the significantly taller man, and fall to the ground, squirming and silent. like an infection was ravishing through his body.
a low, melodic voice resounded from hugo.
"he knows, believes, his love can make it better."
the bilingual man caressed porters cheek before continuing his almost demonic song.
"let us pretend it doesn't matter ."
hugo's black and red eyes took on a sense of endearment as he looked at porter, having a fake pity for the american boy's pain, and continued his song, changing the tone.
"we can do this together."
it pained hugo on the inside to look at porter, writhing and crying, but he was being forced to, by his more evil thought process.
the one that wanted porter to suffer, the one which enjoyed watching pain.
the one which was so unlike his hugo, that it was almost inhuman.
porter was wincing in pain and seething through his teeth. the only thing he could get out of his mouth was "what the fuck are you singing?!"
hugo shushed porter and just pressed his index finger to porters forehead rather firmly, making porter fall asleep.
"maybe you'll finally shut up." he growled.
* * *
when porter woke up, vision hazy and blurred, hugo was the first thing he saw. looking straight at his eyes.
"finally woke up then, have you?" a snappy voice made porter flinch slightly.
his appearance had changed so much that it was scary. gray toned skin, wild, frizzier hair than porter remembered, he ditched the bun and cap, and his clothes were either stained or torn in some way.
if hugo took a thirst for blood, there was nowhere to run, and certainly nowhere to hide.
"fuck, you scared me..." he mumbled, hoping that hugo wouldn't hear anything.
too late. hugo heard him. and smiled bitterly.
"oh..." he said in a fake pity voice, like he was talking to a child who just fell over and cut their arm, "did i scare you, mon amour ?" he pouted, faking his sadness, it was all falsified. porter knew this but went with it anyway.
from what porter knew, those words meant 'my love', or something along those lines.
then hugo smiled. a bitter sight, almost sickening to look at.
" mon cher , you seem so... innocent." he had a low growl before continuing, "i hate seeing you like this. all scared and silent."
porters words caught in his throat. what was he supposed to say, or even do? hugo was standing over him, he had nowhere to even move, and even if he did move, hugo would instantly trap him again.
'it's a lose-lose situation.' his mind screamed at him.
'DON'T MOVE' were the words in bold, being light up like a christmas tree in his thoughts.
and the space between their faces was getting smaller and smaller. he could blame hugo for that. but he couldn't picture what was going to happen.
their foreheads touched, and porter froze up, still.
he couldn't and wouldn't move.
hugo breathed heavily, and he smelled of freshly burning cigarettes. like he'd been smoking recently. it was a smell porter hated, because he hated the fact that hugo was killing himself so easily.
"hugo... why were you smoking..." porter whispered, more like breathed, heavy and rasped.
the person addressed just shushed him, then sang again. " let us pretend it doesn't matter ."
the man below him coughed, as if to say 'shut the fuck up.’
"but porter. it's your favourite song!" hugo laughed, ugly and sickening, then his laugh faded quickly. "it's our favourite song." and for a split moment, he looked genuinely sad. until that moment ended, and it was back to his... "normal" self.
he got up, getting away from porter.
"i'm gonna.. leave you be for a while." he said and ran off in the direction of his studio.
* * *
after hours of working on a song, which he labelled "albatros".
no lyrics, just a series of melodies and notes, fitted neatly onto a 1080p resolution screen.
after working for what seemed like all day, he finally turned his attention to a song he never finished, but played at live shows anyway.
the deep voice which was actually his own vocals resounded through the room, with the eerie lyrics.
"we can do this together"
porter had heard the loud music, but thought nothing of it, because he knew hugo would be working on more... dark music.
which, again, wasn't a shock, because hugo had recently been enjoying making the dark music. the french man had vocally expressed to his lover that he felt better after making it, like he could get all his frustrations out just through this new, almost strange music.
porter took a deep breath, then exhaled, rather loudly. hugo had expressed his addiction to smoking, but porter didn't see the whole whoop about it, so he made his way to the french styled, yet modern, kitchen, and he pried the lock to the cabinet - where hugo always kept his cigarette packs - open somehow with his mind , or with strength.
what were the new powers doing to him? and to hugo? hugo wasn't overly strong, yet with this new "demon" in his small body, he could do things he never even dreamed of attempting as his normal self.
hugo had also become a lot more confident and forward, he'd openly expressed his deepest, darkest desires to porter.
once the lock was quickly disposed of, porter called quietly, "hugo? can i borrow a cigarette?"
receiving no answer, he took it as a yes and, despite his mind screaming " no " at him, he took a cigarette from an open packet, then found the lighter, and carefully lit the new, strange solid which hung from his mouth, clasped lightly between his lips.
a slow drag in, minimal coughing as he exhaled the chemical-induced smoke.
he didn't even make any effort to get rid of the traces of thick grey surrounding him as hugo walked in the door.
"i heard someone calling me-" his voice cut off when his eyes rested on porter's, shocked. "-... porter what the fuck are you doing?" it turned stern, and his eyes turned an evil shade of red, and they twitched, ever so slightly.
porter only chuckled and imitated him in a childish voice before saying something else. "you're surprised? you have an entire cabinet locked for all the stereotypical french stuff, and you're surprised i go for the cigarettes instead of the alcohol. besides." with that, porter put the intoxicatingly addictive solid back in his mouth, another slow drag in. another toxic breath out.
"cigarettes are easier to give up than alcohol. there's more remedies and more treatments. no "alcoholics anonymous" and all that bullshit." porter laughed incredulously, deep and gravelly, like stones were rubbing against his vocal cords, he couldn’t believe what was happening.