The place was full of starry eyed heroes with hearts of gold. Perhaps not so much starry-eyed, he guessed. Just eager to please. Eager to help. Peter could count himself among those numbers on good day. At the moment, he had about had his fill from everyone else
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More than fair, in one way or the other. Perhaps it was because of that, that Albedo held to no prominent emotions when he entered. Was only quiet and subdued, in a way of internal thought rather than hidden pain. For what could he complain about in the past twenty-four hours at the least? And even before that, really--there was no trauma to sink into the remains of his soul. Things were evening around him, and with that, Albedo was finding a balance at well.
It was a little funny, in the end, and he smirked to himself, trodding forward.
To, of course, instantly lock on the form of his younger brother, a mixture of relief and comfort pressed against a cool anger and predatory disturbance. There existed no hesitation at the least. Albedo strode to where Nigredo stood, pausing in front of him with a hand resting on a hip. He had had half a mind to provoke Nigredo into touching him, but Nigredo looked a bit too miserable to play with. Albedo tilted his head, allowing a flash of warmth to slip into the still expression he wore. "Hello, brother."
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Nigredo smiled at the passing memory and his brother, for once setting aside his issues for reasons other than to hide himself. "Hello," he returned. The expression waned to something soft. "Are you doing well?"
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Albedo peered over to his brother, then shifted to face him again. His eyes dropped self-consciously, then he looked up again. "...You're not Rubedo. I know that." Sincere gratitute or apologies were never easily voiced, and here it remained the same. The link vibrated slightly between them, an emotion of apology pressing along it.
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It was while attempting a lackluster job of cleaning that Nigredo's brother spoke once more. Wondering at the source, the younger turned to the other with a curious glance. "Yes?" he asked, tone expectant.
Another's name and an acknowledgement caused his heart to skip in its palpitations, the memories involved resulting in perfect recall. His face paled, locking in another form of shock. Tolerance playing at love, and then only hate, only apathy from a source that you existed for. And Nigredo was not that, in a way the brothers agreed now.
He hadn't thought Albedo would mention it. He had assumed the other believed the words he had spoken: a love was a love until it died. With a brother as the cause. The apology, therefore, seemed almost too much. It rang with enough sincerity to herald doubt, and Nigredo did not know how to respond. "I..." He managed a shaky breath. "I didn't think...you would..."
Apologize. For something spoken in complete belief.
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He peered at his brother, not really upset in expression. "I do pay attention to you, you know. And I consider when I've done wrong." Right and wrong might have different definitions with Albedo than with others, but they held all the same--more and more, less and less, more-so now with a steady contact with a sibling, and interactions with ones called friends. Albedo sighed again--something in Nigredo's reaction, the complete show of emotion, relaxed him, smoothed him. For his brother had been upset over that, and so it was right for Albedo to not let it go. He gave a half-smile, the expression tired. "Is it all right?"
Now? Between them? How things stood? Or was there more to do, to say, before they would get anywhere near to it. Albedo was trying, and he would continue to do so.
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Nigredo paused abruptly, green eyes drifting to focus on a wall. "For my reaction." To assume the other was drawing comparisons between brothers. He must have been mistaken. "It wasn't wrong," he concluded softly, "so it's fine." He had enough fractures to recognize where interpretations had ceased their objectivity, and he wasn't so terribly sad to hold to those words.
A shudder ran through his spine, and without warning, he was nervous. Rather than stifling the reaction, however, Nigredo went with whim and followed through. "I will always love you." There was effort in the words, an admittance given freely but locked in hesitance for reasons unseen. "Is that hard to believe, Albedo?"
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Love him. As his brother would say now.
Albedo sighed, but not for lack. Nigredo had given things freely in the exchange, nerves and tensing alike. And so he would be rewarded for that with like, despite the dance that should accompany. "It's not that," he said quietly. Then looked at his sibling carefully. His eyes rose to the ceiling in thought, then returned downward. Strangely enough, he shrugged. "When it's just you, I understand. I understand how hurt you've been, and how deep your devotion goes. I know how fiercely you can love, and how intensely your need flows."
Said without pride or recrimination. Said as simply as facts, without asking for forgiveness. "It's when we're apart. When I start to think that you may love me, but it may be that you do because I'm all that's left. You may love me, but I wouldn't be what you choose."
He was quiet, watched, eyes discerning. "But you think that, too. Don't you?"
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Despite the threat that Nigredo was to Albedo (to Rubedo), he did not follow in the eldest's footsteps. Albedo acknowledged that here, and though Nigredo wanted to believe the other thought otherwise, he accepted the statement as it stood and wondered all the same. He watched his brother through the spray.
The other continued, detailing motives belonging to Nigredo that he himself had not known. Not fully, at any rate. Although this might have called for a lessening of fear, the child only felt it spike in anticipation. Discernment such as this spoke of something more than simple empathy, and if Albedo would give his reasons, Nigredo might as well try the same.
"I just know how much you love Rubedo," he whispered, the tone lifeless. "That's why I think you wouldn't." Choose me, he indicated with a free hand.
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His eyes flashed at his twin's name, and then they dropped to the floor. How much he loved Rubedo. How much he hated Rubedo. Wasn't it the same thing? He felt sick, and now Nigredo was the cause. The boy glanced up at his brother. "Love," he said quietly, "is only one half of the equation."
There was a beat, and then Albedo walked away with nothing more. He didn't consider how it might seem--all he understood now is what needed to happen to go forward, and it wasn't something that could take place in a shower. He returned with a cloth, soaked it and mixed soap, then raised his hand to his brother's hair, moving the cloth through it.
Not the same, but close. Enough for a mirror to form, a comparison where it wasn't wanted.
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"Right..." Apologies could wait. Albedo likely had no want in continuing a discussion.
Imagine his shock when his brother returned, a cloth in hand. Before a single reaction could be given, the cloth went to his hair and through the strands, ultimately resulting in the oddest and most awkward hair wash of his entire life. Nigredo practically gaped at Albedo, before sputtering on the soap that managed to sneak around his lips.
"Uh, Albedo?" He paused to spit out foam. "What are you doing?"
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He gave a sigh, then continued with his efforts. "The faster you're clean, the faster we can go elsewhere. The cloth is a bit annoying, but...." But bare hands could not be used. Not currently. He gave an idle grin. "You don't mind, do you?"
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Instead, the child turned a shade of red from self-consciousness. Green eyes lowered to the space of Albedo's chest. "I don't mind."
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Another time, then.
Albedo tilted his head to survey his work then nodded in satisfaction. "Come on, then. I want to try something," the child said before heading out of the room.
[to here]
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