Can you please do Valdemar infected with Hanahaki disease?
Human emotion was such a trifling, insignificant matter. Valdemar had reassured themselves that this little blight upon their mind would eventually resolve itself, as miniscule and meaningless as it was. With the line of work they had married with, internal conflict was the least of their concerns.
Although, no matter what excuse they concocted in their precise, calculating mind, nothing ever seemed to add up. They knew what was going on, but not why. Why was this little thing bothering them so deeply? Perhaps it was the jingle of bells that they heard in your laugh, or maybe the radiance of warmth your smile emitted. The focus that reflected back at them in your clear eyes, eyes that they had gotten lost in, too many times to count. The way your hair shone in the sunlight, the starlight, lamplight. There was, of course, the possibility that it wasn't solely your exterior presentation, more that you even took the time to acknowledge them. Not only this, but you held the courage to engage in casual conversation with them, asked them about their day, what they would be doing later. These small acts left them reeling, confused. It was an assault against their mind, a battle between what little humanity was left of him, and his subconscious.
When they spotted you speaking with Valerius, they hadn't left notice of that familiar sparkle in your eyes. Something sparked in them, raw and violent. They felt a sudden urge to knock the consul to the ground, pry his ribs open and redecorate the palace with his entrails. Such thoughts were not uncommon, but much more insistent. The way you looked at him… it just made them inexplicably enraged. That look was the same as you had given him- interested, curious, pure. It did help, they supposed, that Valerius didn't seem remotely interested in conversing with you. However, it did irk them that he was glaring you down with that obnoxiously judgmental expression.
How dare he look at you in such a manner. You, who held nothing but generosity and intrigue lacing the cheerful tone of your voice.
Out of seemingly nowhere, their chest begun to itch. They turned their head, instinctively lifting their elbow to their mouth to cough. But this didn't seem to have helped the itch, only worsen it. They walked off, leaving you to chat with the reluctant Valerius, the Countess now joining the both of you.
Mild discomfort and the occasional cough hadn't been too much of a bother for them as. At lease, not until the unknown symptoms evolved and worsened to the state of their body wracking violently, leaving them teeming and gasping for breath, leaning against walls, too weak to move much. But why? Even through the excruciating pain, the horrible tightness in their chest, they were still inquisitive. All that the effects pointed to were bronchitis, but the color of their skin hadn't changed at all during the time they experienced this obscure ailment. The prospect baffled them, they'd studied medical science and related subjects for the better half of a few lifetimes. None of it made any sense. Especially when the pain in their chest had begun to travel up their throat. The sensation was similar to bile rising from the stomach, but they had no reason to be vomiting. Whatever it was caught in their throat, it refused to come up. Frustrated, Valdemar decided that they would remove it.
They discarded their gloves to the side, carefully reaching into their mouth. Sharp teeth nicked soft, gloveless skin, but didn't much bother them. They carefully grabbed at the matter stuck in their esophagus. Strangely enough, it didn't prove difficult to pull out, though it made them gag slightly. Once removed, Valdemar stared at the material, dumbfounded.
Beneath the bright speckles of blood, it was clear to see that what they had pulled were a faded blue.
