Under a pile of blankets, head buried into the pillow, panting with fever he calls to you.

It was the day after all the sobbing, the stories from Vanitas that explained so many unspoken things about him.

And yet, it was unbelievably sad.

He speaks out from where he lay, still ill but also flushed from slight embarrassment.

To you, and you alone.

For you were all he had, other than that Vanitas of the Blue Moon, who he wasn't the keenest on.

"Forget all that I said yesterday."