A/N: Speedy, speedy, speedy! Ne? Even though I am so neglecting my other things. Well, present from me to you? AWESOMENESS. Expect a lot of updates soon 'cause summer is almost here for my school, only two more fawking days and then graduation~! CLASS OF '09 FTW. ... I'm gonna miss everyone there...sigh. At least I can get away from assholes, which is only five of them 'cause I lift weights and I'm not afraid to beat anyone I want to a pulp. (Those who deal with a Hispanic family—sadly like miiself—you can understand WHAT THE HOLY FAWKING HELL THERE IS TO FEAR! D:)
Summary:
What are the odds of a noble swordsman with a self-absorbed egoism to be swayed by such a frail boy in the cold streets of Airyglyph? .:Albel/Fayt:.
Extra Notes: 'Thoughts' are gonna be written in italics. So, understand the situation… I had to add a character in, and I detest using OC for my fics, so I had to use someone from Star Ocean. So, as I scrolled down the list of characters…I saw (SPOILER FOR THE FIC, DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO RUIN THE SURPRISE) the only decent character… Luther… My point being: I'm gonna use him – and this is AU-ish. Expect him to be used (same clothing, I don't even want to describe every frill on his outfit, it screams in a poor-rich nation "Look at me, I am mighty and rich.") as a NORMAL person, not that whole 'I'm-a-god-wannabe' – and coming from me out of all people who is non-religious, but come on! He is gloat-y looking. .3. And no, he's not evil…well, I don't know yet. Maybe I'll tweak something or not…plus, he makes perfect high and mighty looking noble - don't flame me or be criticizing if I didn't get his character right, pshaw. I'm trying! …this is really long… xD
Dedication: Maiyoko Iwagashi. Seriously, go on and read her fics!
Disclaimer: BWAHAHAHAHA -- To nothing, for I own nothing as well. Anybody noticed I hate rap? I do~ but I think Eminem is the only rap artist I'll actually listen to... Random comment.... xD ... My pen shitted on me.
Song of choice/Playlist: I have two in store for each chapter, one 'instrumental/classical', and one that is 'normal'. Go ahead; you're free to choose which one~! Just in case you have different preferences! Artist first, song next. Got it? Good.
~.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.~
Good Charlotte - Victims of love
Apocalyptica - Grace
~.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.~

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Serendipity

---

---

Hurt

.:●●●●●●x●●●●●●:.

Several days in counting after the King's celebration, everything returned back to normal in the castle – the maids were always still in a rush to finish their regular activities, the servants were badgered as much as ever, even the little redhead was having it difficult and trying her best to make food despite always having something in a brunt crisp. As for Fayt, he was actually irked while his easy-going nature never showed the fierce anger drilling his noggin. And because the celebration was just a while ago, Duke Vox hasn't considered leaving out of the castle to examine enemy territory just yet.

That was Fayt's real reason to being annoyed.

Duke Vox was staying for a while longer, of course the statement didn't sound that bad at first, until Albel literally started avoiding the blunette or ignoring the teen's existence completely.

So not amusing.

---

Fayt recalled just yesterday when he was teasing the swordsman with food, trying to feed him every time Albel swatted Fayt's hand. Once swatting the hand away, Albel reached for the fork but it was always snatched away by Fayt on the very moment just as the scarlet hued picked up the metal utensil.

He was actually hungry for once, too, which meant Albel grew quickly frustrated. And because of that anger, Albel opened his mouth only to say the names of arthropods to describe the blunette, but rather got a piece of meat plopped in his mouth.

Coincidentally, Vox was carrying out reports in his hands, but stopped right in front of two to snicker and say, "Fed by another, Nox? I'm surprised."

Albel's eyes widened, he pushed away Fayt roughly and tried to save up any scratch up dignity he still had left. Albel's fists were clenched tightly; he stood up and stomped shakily towards his room.

---

'It reminds me a whole lot when Albel had the same look when the King mentioned somebody playing with food. What an idiot that person must have been!'

If he only knew…

---

Another event happened in the hallway, Albel happened to be walking by with maids hurriedly doing their chores, giving as much space for Albel to pass. He just returned from practice, self-explanatory to the color on his cheeks where a tad bit pink including his nose.

Fayt exit Albel's room, eyes twitching to a trail of blood splotches on the lumpy hallway. Fayt noticed Albel's hand leaking with blood and no bandages, and his face showed absolutely no trace of pain, as if his wound had never reopened in the first place.

He picked up at the swordsman's pace, gently lifting Albel's hand when the bi-colored haired turned around to glare at whoever was touching his hand. But once he noticed it was just Fayt, the claws gripping on his katana loosened, and his frown wasn't as dark as it just was.

"This is to go to Woltar; this is to go to…"

Albel eyes darted back at Vox coming down the hallway, his mind panicked as he looked back at the hand Fayt was still examining.

The footsteps grew closer, Albel smacked away Fayt's hand viciously, "Don't touch me, disgusting wretched fool!"

And then the scarlet hued left, not even looking back at just how much Fayt was hurting physically—Albel went and smacked the same hand where he injured Fayt with his katana—and mentally.

Duke Vox only looked at Fayt with a bit of disgust, his face screaming 'Smart move, stupid commoner.'

---

Fayt sighed, exiting out of the castle and taking a step outside, oddly it wasn't snowing as it usually was, but rather quite sunny but not enough to melt down barely any snow since the white wonderland was thick in snowfall.

Even if he left, then what?

Go out for a while and come back – too much of a hassle.

Try and go to Albel – Vox might as well come out randomly just so Fayt can get hurt one way or another.

Do chores?

'…Now I'm getting desperate.'

Fayt's emerald hues looked down at his boots; he raised his head and pumped a fist in mid-air, 'If he wants to avoid me, then fine! I'll do the same!'

The soldiers guarding the main entrance lifted an eyebrow when Fayt suddenly was over enthusiastic and ran back inside like a cheery kid; they shook their heads and remained in their post of guarding the entrance.

As for Fayt, he noticed Albel and Woltar descending down the main staircase.

Fayt quickly looked around, a clumsy teenage maid has just broken a plate, and she picked up the remaining pieces and gathered all of them on her apron. As the maid picked another large fragment, the tip had made a slit on her finger, oozing out scarlet blood, "Oh no…"

Fayt hastily kneeled across the maid, "Are you ok?" Before she nodded, Fayt took her finger and placed it inside his mouth, only one eye was open to see Albel and if he had noticed.

Clearly he did, but just walked away, following Woltar. The old senior noticed a strange tension between the two, but ignored the fact for now.

"Tsk, I wanted more of a reaction." Fayt said, taking the finger out of his mouth and standing straight, forgetting all about the maid who blushed a bright red.

'Hmm. Maybe a change of a better scenario and gender will do the trick.'

---

The grandfather clocked strike twelve on the face of numbers, it was the afternoon and no accomplishment whatsoever after all this time, not even a trace of anger in Albel's eyes or a sense of care. He wondered, just how did a few days ago they almost connected their friendship with the whole fever ordeal and now they act like total strangers? Fayt furrowed his brows; speculating if the time they spent together in the watchtower was just as meaningless as any other time.

Since he needed some way to vent out his frustration, he was in the training grounds for all his effort during the past few hours.

Fayt sighed, jabbing his sword into wooden figures replicating the Aquarian side with their faces poorly painted with an expression of terror.

Hands held high and everything…

'This is so wrong on my account.'

"I wonder if Cliff is alright, I'm starting to--"

"So this is where you went."

Fayt squeaked, turning his heel rapidly to notice Albel just watching Fayt swinging around the sword like it meant no real danger. Fayt breathed irregularly, clutching his shirt from such a fright and someone to actually disturb his train of thought. When calming down, the corner of the blunette's lips twitched upwards, but he forced a frown so he wouldn't look too excited by Albel's mere presence.

"Yeah…here I am. Unless you want me to leave, because I don't mind, nor do I care."

'Man, I really gotta improve on acting and lying.'

Albel took a seat on the pillars, watching Fayt intensively with his scarlet orbs as he sat down. Fayt gulped on the spot, trying his hardest to pry his eyes away from Albel's stare and the awkwardness his stomach felt, almost like a sickly churn.

Fayt gripped the handle of the sword for dear life, slicing the wooden figure in order to distract himself from the gaze.

"That was terrible; you need more of precision on the target and pin-pointing the degree of the body. I won't even begin to mention the major flaw between slicing the air was utterly unbalancing your aim."

Fayt's eye twitched, he wouldn't expect such a blunt criticism of his sword handling skills from Albel at such a point when Fayt tried his hardest to block out Albel's existence.

"I am truly sorry," Fayt said harshly, exposing all sarcasm in his tone, "But why would such an expert swordsman even waste his time on such a disgusting wretched fool." The last three words had a pause between them to emphasize his point.

Albel clenched his fist, "That's childish, even for you." The bi-colored haired stood up, ignoring the last comment to assist Fayt with accuracy of a target. As he held Fayt's hand—still gripped on the handle of sword—the pair lifted the weapon up slightly.

The blunette pushed himself away, faking a flustered look for an expression, "Don't touch me." He snickered to mimic Albel's tone of voice when he did say that to the teen.

"Stop making an ass out of yourself, Leingod, and just listen!"

Fayt threw the sword on the snowy ground, every bit of his mind went into a turn-oil that he had every bit of trouble controlling it, "If anyone is making an ass out of themselves, it's you! So no, I'm not listening, and I don't want to! Crawl back to Vox since you only consider being a noble bastard around him!"

At that instant, Albel tackled Fayt to the ground; his claws digging into Fayt's neck with tiny spots of blood trailing down the more Albel grew fierce. The blunette was desperate for air as he was soon losing oxygen in his lungs, he weakly clamped onto Albel's shoulder, and successfully turning the positions as the snow was splashed on the swordsman face.

Fayt took a deep breathe when catching Albel from surprise, but nevertheless they were rolling around in the snow between their wrangling as one was try to choke the other, and the other trying his best to escape.

Fayt finally elbowed Albel's torso, it let the grip on his neck loosened enough for Fayt to scramble away with another course of irregular breathing.

"W-why…so defensive when I…mentioned Vox…?" Fayt said between his breath, but quickly got on his legs to flee the scene from another attempt of Albel reaching for his katana.

---

Count Woltar watched Fayt dashing out of the castle at full speed; bright red scratch marks around his neck with trails of blood following his white shirt and several red blotches. The rest of his clothes were covered up in snow and around his pants. But since Fayt left in such a speed, a trail of snow followed his path.

Ferocious stomps were heard, Albel had a head full of snow and dripping water from his bi-colored locks, his nostrils flared as he continued to stomped towards the entrance, the blunette's body was nothing more than a little dot.

"Did he say where he's going?" Albel asked, attempting to calm his never-ending anger.

Woltar chuckled, a little diabolical smile forming on his old wrinkly cheeks, "Actually, he did say something, he said…"

---

Fayt continued to walk through the sunny afternoon of Airyglyph, snow crunching and several individuals slipping from the snow forming to ice. The teen cursed when he dug into his pockets, not even a single Fol to buy a lone piece of fruit. Since it was the afternoon, it would be just the exact time the emerald hued would be eating, his stomach growled loudly: completely famished.

Now what? After leaving like that, it was a wonder if he would still be allowed in the castle, no less permission from Albel. Fayt gulped, he actually fought back towards Albel and childishly angered him by mimicking the swordsman from what he said. It's a surprise his body in still in tact, Albel sure would have already cut up Fayt's body with his katana.

"I'm so hungry…"

Fayt slumped on the walls, his back sliding until his bottom hit the snowy floor.

"What a sorry sight, it seems starvation is the main cause of death in this nation. Pitiful."

Before Fayt looked up, his eye twitched, 'Honestly, what the hell…what's with everyone having such a cocky attitude…? And towards me of all people!'

His emerald uneager eyes looked up, a blond with a smug smirk implanted on his pale white lips, the blond fringes covered up a pair of oceanic blue eyes—Fayt prevented gawking at those marvelous and captivating eyes of man—that suited his skin perfectly and toned more of his face. Oddly, his white-gloved hand held out a steamed bun – presentably hot and appeared just made and so appetizing to Fayt's empty stomach.

Fayt hesitated to outstretch his hand, wondering if it really was alright to just accept the steamed bun from a complete stranger.

'As long as he's not a sweaty disgusting beast, I think it's alright to get accept food from mister Flashy and Rich-looking here.'

"Thanks…" Fayt's hand was an inch away from taking the bun, but the blonde's other hand took Fayt's arm by surprise, the blue-eyed manage to pull up Fayt from his sitting position. Fayt blinked rapidly, noticing just how much each other's chest touched one another and just how close their faces were from each other.

The blonde frowned for a fraction of a second; he closed his eyes and pulled on a sweet smile, "Luther. Luther Lansfeld."

Fayt nervously smiled back, backing away so both of them can have their space.

'I've never been so claustrophobic in my life. Dearest Apris, now I understand how Albel feels…screw it, not like that's ever gonna stop.'

"Fayt Leingod…" his emerald orbs were trying their best to avoid looking at the blond, and the main objective of getting the steamed bun. Fayt crossed his arms, seemingly annoyed and noticed how Luther was taken slight aback.

'What…? Something I said?'

Luther snapped out of his confusion, eyes dimming at Fayt's neck – scratches, dried-up blood, red markings… Luther's gloved finger trailed down the red marks on Fayt's neck, the blunette stood awkwardly stiff in place as his legs trembled slightly.

'I would be the last person to say this, but I feel very…touched…and not in the good way.'

As Luther's finger continue to follow the path down to Fayt's toned chest, the blunette jerked back from the little flutter he felt in his stomach – and not because of any mushy feeling either. Fayt silently apologized, but try to let the topic change by pointing at the bun, "Can I eat that? I'm seriously hungry."

Luther peered back the bun, no longer did the steam was able to be seen, it had gotten pretty cold and ripped open just a tad as the stuffing was dripping on the snow.

"Oh, you wouldn't want this ruined thing," the blonde casually threw it across his shoulder, "Come to my home, there are plenty more where those came from. But it wouldn't be fair for someone to freeload that easily, so you have to work for it."

Fayt's blank expression proved one thing: "I don't know how to cook."
'That's why I felt wonderful living off fruits, vegetables, and finally having people prepare food for me.'

"And that's the beauty of learning something new each day – come, we must prepare since you'll be learning from the greatest: no other than myself. Feel honored, Fayt, it is a simple meal you can surely accomplish."

---

Fayt's eye twitched - sure, he knew he might have to work off in order just to get fed, it sounded like everything was worth that much for something in his famished state. He didn't know whether the choice was safe or not, Fayt didn't enter Luther's mansion when asked to come inside, so the blonde decided for one of his servants to bring out a wooden stand. If anything, the blunette looked like some vendors in the process of making steamed buns: very inexperienced since all he did was gaze at the vegetables and the long sharp butcher knife trembling in his hand.

Luther furrowed his brows, his arms crossed with one finger tapping impatiently when he waited for Fayt to make a move. He sighed, dropping his arms to the side, "How about this…chop any of the vegetables or meat - but the onions must be last!"

The emerald hued was completely oblivious from the change of tone of Luther's last statement; he began with the pork in the little plastic plate ready to be cut up. For an extra touch, fresh basil and pepper were added to the meat.

Once Fayt was done with the pork, Luther took away the plate and entered his mansion. For a short while of the blonde's absence, Fayt looked at the rest of the ingredients that were on plates and wondering what in the world should he do with it. Grabbing the ginger root from the tip, the teen examined the root; seemingly it seemed clean and decided to chop it up.

With a few other vegetables in the progress of being minced, Luther came back with a steamy plate of pork with a crisp smell sending a wonderful aroma to Fayt's nose, as well as some curious town dwellers that asked if they were soon selling. Fayt laughed lightly and whole-heartily, explaining to misunderstood citizens. Luther's eyes grew half-lidded with a small smirk on his lips for the blunette has caught his eyes even more. Blue orbs kept gazing at Fayt's torso, as if he was stripping off Fayt's clothing with his eyes.

Fayt never noticed, and asked the occupied blonde for the plate.

"Luther, what about the dough?"

Fayt took a quick whiff at his hands; he scrunched up his nose momentarily at the horrible smell of raw shrimp he just cut up.

"Already done." The blond popped open the lid of a small wooden basket, the wooden plank divided the dough and the flour sitting on one side, some of the flour was even blown a tad bit by the rushing winds - sunny or not, there would always be windy conditions.

"Get small portions and roll them up."

Fayt nodded to Luther's directions, he tore off small pieces of dough and rolled them up in small balls, the lad already believed the eight he has already gotten done would be enough until he continues with the rest of the dough. Emerald eyes glanced over oceanic blue hues, mentally uncomfortable with the stern stare at Fayt's progress.

"Now, Fayt…flatten it with the rolling pin." A maid from the mansion scurried out quickly, she was barely visible to Fayt since he came out and went back inside rapidly, handing Luther a silicone rolling pin.

'What…the hell? What about the original and average wooden pins?'

Luther watched Fayt shakily push aside the knife and reaching out towards the rolling pin, once getting said pin, he flatten the dough into a perfect circle. Luther motioned Fayt to pick out the flour and to add it to every piece of dough he already rolled. Once reaching the second, Fayt's small amount of time of talent diminished when rolling the pin incorrectly. Luther crept to Fayt's back, his chest touching Fayt's back and his gloved hands clasping on Fayt's fingers.

The blue haired jumped slightly, squeaking how close they became in a matter of time.

"L-Luther?"

The blunette felt a warm breath on his neck, hotly the older male whispered, "Shh…do as I do. You want food, don't you, Fayt?"

Luther's hands guided Fayt's hand on the process of rolling the pin, Fayt felt the blonde man slowly sliding one leg in between his, nudging him ever so often when the chances of Fayt trying his hardest to pay attention at the rolled dough.

"See? Easy." Luther said again on Fayt's ear, "Looks like you forgot to cut up the onion, let's see if you can do that much."

Fayt was easily irritated by the comment and so occupied chopping up the onions brutally that the blunette was unaware of Luther's hands slipping out of his own, draping around Fayt's torso and eventually sliding down inch per inch. Meanwhile, the emerald hued felt water in his eyes from chopping up the onions, the gas causing his eyes a major irritation, thus the water sliding down his cheeks from the tears – reason being the onion as a cause.

Fayt's watery eyes looked over at Luther, his mouth was going to open to ask for goggles, but the blunette was slammed forcibly down on the snowy ground. The knife managed to be tipping on his work station whilst the onion rolling away from distance after flying in the air.

The tears never stopped slipping down Fayt's cheek, which meant the nuisance will not yet cease.

Otherwise, Fayt's head throbbed from the sudden impact, his watery eyes manage to notice Luther licking his lips with the blonde's body on top of him, and Fayt's wrist were brought up and held up only by one gloved hand. His mind throbbed so much that his mind was so clustered to understand the situation, especially unaware of a shrill voice calling out his last name.

Imagination? That's what Fayt assumed.

"Luther, get off me."

"I think not, my little Fayt." The other hand stroked Fayt's cheek, some of the tears drenching his white glove.

Luther's face crept towards Fayt's neck, but the blonde's hair was violently yanked from the back of his head, the pain making him cringe and releasing Fayt's wrist. His oceanic blue eyes tried to look at his perpetrator, but a long blade dangerously close his neck made him assume the a possible person:

"You know my status around this nation. Unhand me now, Nox."

Albel hissed, gripping Luther's hair tighter and pulling Luther's head upwards for the blonde to realize just how mad he was, "Fuck off, Lansfeld. You have enough pets." Albel let down the blade and let loose of Luther's hair, "Scram."

Luther stood up away from Fayt, dusting off his clothing for any leftover snow before it could as so much as melt in his expensive attire. Quickly before he departed, he whispered into Fayt's ear and left. Fayt raised his body with his elbows, perplexed of that hate between the two, or more as something as detestation. Albel hesitated, but let out a hand to assist Fayt to rise up from the snow, his heart plummet when he assumed Luther did something to the teen, considering just how watery Fayt's eyes were.

Fayt almost smiled, reaching out his hand to grab onto Albel's hand—the one without the gauntlet—until a voice reminded him just how bad this little 'happy feeling' was:

"Just don't get attached."

Fayt frowned instantly, the hand he was going to take hold pulled back slightly. He harshly slapped Albel's hand, picking the emerald hued up himself and adjusting his pants. Albel's eyes widened, looking at the reddish hand of his and Fayt fixing himself.

There was a stinging pain now that Albel had his turn of getting his injured hand hurt.

Fayt titled his head, glaring even harsher at the swordsman, "Get away from me." Fayt said whilst his tone of voice was so heartless, cold, and distant when he walked the direction of the castle and rubbing the tears from his eyes fully caused by the onion.

Albel broke his gaze from his hand and watched Fayt's drifting body. He frowned, but calmly said, "…If that's how you want it…"
He followed Fayt, clenching his injured hand: 'Then I'm alright with it…after all, I might have came too late…or when he was left alone in the hands of that foolish Lansfeld.'

Albel bit his lip, wallowing even harder, 'I'm destined to be hated, even by him…This is normal, this is normal…'

The bi-colored haired placed his reddish hand on his mouth, feeling a strange wetness around his eyes slipping through his fingers. When stopping abruptly as Fayt finally became aware the footsteps coming to an end, he uninterestedly looked back. His eyes widened twice the size - Albel was examining his wet hands from the tears coming from his eyes, he even looked just as shock at himself when the tears never stopped flowing.

How Fayt could identify Albel's expression by thinking as such: as if Albel was actually a good soul and marked his first kill, shocked to see blood on his hands for the first time.
Except this scenario is with tears.

"Albel…?" Fayt asked, full of concern and fragments of guilt, "Are…are you crying…?"

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A/N: MAJOR OOCNESS, LEAVE ME ALONE. I was kinda dead afterwards when I thought I lost my flash drive at school that had ALL this typed up, and I was so embarrassed thinking that somebody might have found it...I have a yaoi folder, ya'know...and pictures..........LEAVE ME ALONE.... D: Plus, I gotta prepare for graduation~! Squeees. MONDAY AND TUESDAY IS MY LAST DAYS OF SCHOOL. HELLS YEAH. :333333 Please don't flame, especially with the last part. I needed something, and I had a chapter exclusively for this. But w/e. Luther will be used in a few chapter, then bye-bye. BWAHAHAHA. Never really liked him...ALBEL AND FAYT 4 EVAAAAAA~ x) And I know, I could have replaced the meat for bean paste, but it's easier to go along with. Honestly, details suck. I'm losing my touch, BADLY. And I really gotta update my other stories...holy hell...how overwhelming...