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Speaking His Truth

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Waking from his sleep, Diavolo shifted around in his bed within the encompassing darkness of his newest hotel room. Making slow, lazy movements under the silken sheets, he came to sit up, throwing his long legs over the edge of the bed, his brows pinched together and his lengthy, feathery pink hair framing his face in slight disarray. The comforter easily slid down his broad shoulders to surround at his nude waist, and he could not bring himself to care about his appearance at the moment as he sat still. His eyes remained shut with drowsiness and a pain lingering behind them, trails of a dying headache. As he had laid in his bed moments ago, his thoughts upsetting as much to prove unbearable and his heart rate increasing, he only had one desire to fulfill right now—to speak with Doppio.

Cracking an eye open slightly, he let his gaze settle upon his pillow, to which he made the most minimal of movement so as to slide out his laptop from underneath it. As he stood with a low, quiet groan, he opened it and made his way to his desk before softly placing the laptop down and pulling out the padded chair, taking a seat in it, scooting forward a tad.

Squinting, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and opened up a blank word document on his desktop and began to type, his fingers gaining speed as he went about his message to the other.

Doppio.
My Doppio, I need to speak to you, respond now.
 
Diavolo stared at the messaging system until he blinked and before his eyes was a message from Doppio. He allowed himself a small quirk of his lips, an attempt at a smile through his horrid mood, as he read the message. He remained ever unconscious to his own hands dancing across the keys, having provided what he reads:

Boss! Yes, this is Doppio! Right where you need me. What can I do for you, Boss?

Where are you? Are you alone? If you are, you do not have to address me like that, my sweet boy.

Ah, haha, yes, Diavolo... I’m in a hotel room, and I just so happened to open my laptop when I got your message! It’s like we’re psychic or something! ...Is there something you need me to do for you?

Diavolo could gradually feel his heart begin to regain its steady rhythm again, receiving these sweet words from his subordinate. He was the only one Diavolo had ever sought, and the only one who could ever make him feel warmth. He huffed when he remembered he needed to respond to him now, remembering why he needed to speak with him.

Yes. I simply need you to speak with me, that will be all. Nothing more, nothing less. Doppio, I feel terrible, and I apologize for coming to you with this, Diavolo paused for a moment, the fear of rejection or, worse, betrayal, taunting him at the back of his mind, but his faith in Doppio won as he slowly began to continue typing, but you are the only one I can trust to hear me. I will ask you for your permission—are you comfortable with this? I would not want you to feel pressured to carry this weight that has nothing to do with my organization, understand. This isn't a command, but a request.

He waited for a few minutes until he received a message, one that caused his eyebrows to come together again, though his stomach did not twist, in fact it felt lighter than he could ever remember it feeling.

Of course, Diavolo. I would love to speak with you, and in return I want you to tell me about anything that’s on your mind. I don’t care what it is… I love listening to you. I’m no rookie when it comes to supporting you, you know that, or else I wouldn’t be your number one! So, I’ll talk, if that’s what you want.

...Love. Doppio loved his company. Diavolo stared at the sentence for a sizable moment, not withholding his smile this time before letting it slip. He exhaled a sigh, closing his eyes momentarily, readying himself, before he returned his fingertips to the keys,

Thank you, Doppio. I remain ever gracious to you. I asked you to speak to me, but I know now that you know I am the one wanting to say something. So I won’t make you wait. I feel sick.

Sure thing. Why do you feel sick? What are you feeling right now? And what do you think might have caused it? If you suspect someone, just drop a name, and I’ll take care of them, Diavolo. I’ll fuck them up.

He thread a large hand through his hair smoothly, pushing it back and away from his face as he let a deep chuckle fill the room, shaking his head at the boy’s response.

My adorable Doppio… there is no need for that, but thank you. Truly I am the one who is doing this to myself. I feel such hate right now that I feel nauseous. I feel like my body is too hot, too cold, too heavy for my own soul. I want to break everything in this room, yet at the same time, I want to remain hidden and confined in this room forever. Doppio… can I ask you, have you ever felt this way?

...Yes, I know just how you feel! I’m… relieved, I’m not the only one. Well, I mean, it’s a terrible thing to share with you, but… knowing we share this pain, I feel so close to you, Diavolo. Like you understand me… not that you couldn’t before, it’s just that suddenly I’m aware of this. Yeah… I’ve been that angry. So angry that I just wanted to puke, or run away, to just escape my body somehow. Please tell me you haven’t puked, though, haha!

No, I haven’t. I’m pleased to hear that. Diavolo stopped. There, he said it—he revealed what went on inside his mind to someone, and… that someone accepted him. Related to him, even. Of course, it would be Doppio. No one else would ever so deeply care for and understand him as much as Doppio did. No other than his dear Doppio. ...Thank you, Doppio. he concluded.

Hey, can I ask you something, now?

Diavolo lifted a thin, arched brow at the question, as the boy inquiring him about anything personal was unfamiliar to him. Certainly, he had never let the possibility open to him before, but right now, it was different. He had made himself vulnerable, and if Doppio wanted to know more after accepting him for who he was and had experienced, then so be it. He would gladly sate him.

Yes. What is it? Diavolo swallowed thickly, feeling his heart in his throat, retreating his hands from the keyboard as he waited so that he would not clench the keys and break them. If only he could hear the other’s voice right now, could read into his tone, could know if what was about to be asked were in his favor or not.

First, I just want to say, you mean the world to me, and, second… I love you. I love you so much, Diavolo, and I'm so happy that you told me all of that. So I want to know, is it because you love me too that you came to me with this? Have you ever told anyone else about what you're going through right now?

And Diavolo snickered. It was nervous at first, before he realized how genuine it was. There was something about the other’s words that had him feel the cheekiness behind them, as well as the passion. He rolled his eyes, not at Doppio, but to himself. He had panicked over nothing, of course. Doppio would never dream of doing anything that would cause him unease.

Hm... my Doppio. You already know the answer, don’t you? You just want me to say it. I’m feeling much better now. And… yes, I wanted- no, I needed to speak with you about this, because you do not compare to anyone else. You alone are the sole person I will speak with, because I love you too. Deeply, I love you, my dearest Doppio. That is my confession for you. Doppio… I think you are my soulmate.