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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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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