A/N: After watching Hetalia Axis Powers – which is so cute, shounen-ai ((depends how you interpret it)) and lovable – and watching England for a few episode, I was wondering how a scone taste like...Poor Canada, he was nothing but a ghost to all~! XDDDD And dude...America? Only munching hamburgers...? I TOTALLY AGREE, and I'm American too. Don't know why most people were offended. Pshaw. ITALY & GERMANY FTW. Japan is cute -w- Russia kicks ass. And Prussia is mean. :I Nuff said. :V
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. I'm gonna remind everyone again. THIS IS SLIGHTLY AU-ish. ;D WARNING: ATTEMPT AT LEMONADE. (I even searched the date when the condom was perfectly made…don't ask. And I found out the rubber thing part was finalized around the mid 1800's. Again, don't ask. Just read. XD)
Dedication: Maiyoko Iwagashi. Seriously, go on and read her fics!
Disclaimer: Ugh... My head, it HURTS. -keep swallowing strawberry ice cream whole- But it's so fun~ xDD Ahahahaha ow ow owwww. D: BRAIN FREEZE. No own. -twitches- I'm also coming to realize I'm loosing coordination in everything. x~x
Song of choice/Playlist: I have four in store for this chapter, one 'instrumental/classical', and two that is 'normal' (I couldn't resist XD) 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.~
Karmina – The kiss
Skillet – The last night
Bond – Victory
~.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.I.~
.:●●●●●●x●●●●●●:.
Serendipity
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---
Two
(Part II)
.:●●●●●●x●●●●●●:.
At this point he had no choice but to give this evening something worth remembering as the teen feared the worst. He is willing to struggle so hard and it will end in vain because of a certain battle taking place. Fayt could not just ask Albel to come along and join Aquios forces – there is no pact between the nations, what made him think there can be an agreement on that topic between two people? Scratch that – a 'traitor' and a 'captain of the Black Brigade' to ever compromise? Rubbish. Fayt rubbed his arms - no, it wasn't the cold affecting him from this point on, the blunette almost felt like he ran out options.
Not just options, he has also ran out of time to accomplish anything of the sort and stored a keen desire to have one more day – just one more blasted day. His verdant eyes sunk at couples roaming the streets with all their mushy goodness, from holding hands to just kissing. 'If only I was just as lucky.' He grinned, Albel would never let Fayt should public affections for the fear that the blunette will just tarnish his reputation, his title as the 'Wicked one.'
As if that wasn't already done…
The blue haired teen saddened, slowing down his storming pace to the castle—not as if he was rushing at this moment, the swordsman wouldn't back any time soon—until he completely remain stiff as citizens had no patience and pushed him aside to get through – it felt almost reminiscent since he suffers being pushed around by the maids in the beginning. He didn't mind one bit when his body went on its will to an alley, the cold winds blowing to his face with an identification of fresh bread and warm vanilla sugar.
Fayt continued following the path of the cold passage, and yet the aroma grew stronger for Fayt to keep going. His feet stopped abruptly. Here is he is and here she is.
"Sophia?"
Her viridian eyes averted from the bread she nibbled on to her friend looming over her—the brunette even reminded herself to have manners to keep her mouth closed to prevent gasping with chewed food in her mouth—and quickly she swallowed her small meal. Her expression is a warm smile, enough to mutely express: 'Hey Fayt, nice to see you again.' Sophia placed the loaf of bread on her legs—as she was sitting on the snow with her back leaning on the wall—her arms were spread wide open – open enough for a hug.
Like a book, Sophia could read Fayt easily. She knew he was troubled, despite not knowing why.
Fayt dropped his guard completely, quickly rushing into Sophia's arm as he tightly wrapped his arms around her back, as did Sophia. She ran her wiry fingers through Fayt's hair, soothing him as he tried his best to not burst out crying.
"Fayt…" she began, closing her eyes and smiling brightly enough to melt anyone's heart, "You can get through anything. I believe in you, and you should start believing in yourself."
---
There was an odd sensation numbing his fingers and pace once his destination to the castle has arrived, the guards weren't in the entrance as usual. Their tasks meant blocking out any specters or the unfortunate—especially children—trying to sneak inside. The gate was partly closed instead of wide open or shut fully and it sounded just too quiet. No crashing, no tumbling, no cursing – nothing, just pure chocking quietness. Fayt positioned his hand on his sword, tiptoeing within the door and poking his head in, emerald orbs examining the surroundings in case that can bluntly tell him something is plainly wrong.
There is not even a single maid in sight.
He slid the door open, cursing at the long screech from the rough edges of the door to the lumpy floor. Fayt quickly made it up the stairs, emerald pools looking tensely at the door closed to every room in the hallways. Like lady luck when he tilted his head further at the inspection of a broken pot on the floor did he successfully saved himself from a dagger that shot past him, only slicing away several strands of his bright cerulean hair.
Fayt shot back up; panting irregularly at the dagger lunged deep within the pillar. As it hit the ground, it made a loud clattering sound that echoed the room.
Here came footsteps and obnoxious cackles.
From the stairs came a large male with very long ears—like elves—dropping down in sags. On the left came another creature of the same species, toying with a dagger in his hand as his pale finger traced the edges. And lastly—on the right—creeping out of the hallway were the shorter of the two.
"Did'ja sneak out from yer place? C'mon boys, we outta teach a lesson 'bout stayin' put and listenin' to orders." The shorter of them spoke.
Fayt's eyebrow twitched just how this elf creature verbalized its sentences pissed him off. He sounded irritable enough for Fayt not to hesitate to pound this smug brat into place.
The blunette's direction was the one with the dagger; his agility surprised the creature and gave it not enough time to hold his weapon to protect himself. Fayt's eyes grew half-lidded with pity; he used the blunt side of his sword and knocked the creature hard in the shoulder – enough to make it unconscious.
The largest grabbed Fayt from behind unexpectedly, the large one's strength would be hard to squirm out of. The runty one stepped in front of Fayt, mocking the blunette's inability to move.
"Ya got a pretty face." The arrogant one mentioned, letting the dagger slide down Fayt's face dangerously enough for the teen to be apprehensive.
Fayt kicked the 'leader', snarling at the runt now laid across the ground with a stinging pain around his head from impacting with the stones.
"Don't touch me." The blunette threatened.
No matter the danger, it was not enough keep his mouth shut.
Because of this act, the larger tightened Fayt's small body, cutting off circulation and making him squirm even more to obtain liberation.
The runt came back, its weapon loomed dangerously over Fayt's head, but short one slashed the blunette's arm instead. The teen had to fight back the pain and decided to do a thing rather simple: he remained calm and bit the large one – hard on the bulky arms. The elf creature stumbled back and rolled down the stairs like a ball, eventually hitting its head against the wall – another easy victory although the teen's vision grew rather hazy and unstill due to blood loss. Fayt clicked his tongue from unconsciously gripping his arm the whole time, tainting his clean hand with a red blood
Fayt smirked – all that's left is the leader of this group.
"Even if ya defeat us, ya won't beat Lord Norton!"
'…Who?'
Fayt walked up to the trembling elf thing, he placed one finger on the pressure point found around the shoulder area and pressed roughly on it. Once the runt was unconscious, Fayt found a rope tied around the large one's pants. It provided the perfect restraint against the three when they were all tied together, now there scent mixed together can be defined as dirty socks, sweat, and stale cheese. He scrunched up his nose, 'Ever heard of a bath?'
Quickly he dashed away from the three, regaining the freshness of the air from the chamber room. He heard swords hitting against each other, emerald pools widened as one solider was dead and scrawled on the floor whist the other was putting up a fight against an unusual looking man with the strangest garments and large blaster held in his hand.
Fayt couldn't see his eyes, but the unruly sun-bleached blond hair proved to be different amongst average citizens.
It was evident enough: Lord Norton.
And since he as underlings and already killed a solider, that means he's a threat.
"Stubborn lil' thing. Just die!" screeched the blond man, blasting the soldier with the bizarre gun.
The King backed away, gritting his teeth at the defeat of his two guards.
Norton: "Yer next, this Kingdom is mine!"
"To do that, you have to go through me first, Norton!"
Norton twitched, growling at the blue haired teen waving his sword in the air with a chipper smile. The blond smirked, it might be easy too, and the lad is injured on the arm. "That's--" he held up his blaster, "--Lord Norton!"
Fayt ducked in time, dashing at the insane threat of the castle when Fayt used his sword to cut Norton's hand – not off his body, but enough to cause a large gash. The pain went through Norton's body, and from the pain he dropped the blaster on the floor. Fayt kicked it aside to be out of hand's reach.
Norton cursed at the blunette, punching the teen on the head and successfully getting the Fayt to stumble to the ground. Fayt's vision felt blurry again and everything felt unstable when everything was seen in two: two swords in his hand, two Nortons, two Kings, two everything.
Norton seized this opportunity to run back for his blaster, only until there was a blow on his hip that paralyzed his legs. He looked back, eyes peering at the blunette snickering at his accomplishment. Norton looked at his hip, the sword jabbed into his body and droplets of blood on the ground leaving a puddle of crimson fluid.
Luck again that Fayt successfully swung his sword at the correct precision.
A few moments later, Norton had eventually grown weak from so much blood-loss he died trying.
Mission or not, Fayt needed to save the King one way or another.
'Where is Count Woltar at least…?' the blue haired thought.
The King stared in shock, his hands came together and clapped, "Count Woltar has great expectations as I finally why. Thank you, Fayt Leingod. If there's anything I can do, do not hesitate to ask."
Fayt limped, one leg collapsing on the ground. He rose his hand up to prevent the King to approach closer, "For…there be a truce within Airyglyph and Aquios…would be…nice." He grinned crookedly, eyelids growing very heavy, "And a…arrangement…for…" Fayt has grown too weak to continue his request.
Count Woltar helped the lad in time before all of his body collapsed on the ground, "Everyone is safe now from those hooligans."
The King nodded, but more concerned in Fayt's final request than anything. But he did demand this much, "Get him medical attention."
-
White.
White everything.
Fayt sat in the middle of nothing; he couldn't even inquire if what he was sitting on was white nothing or a white floor. There was nothing but him, sitting down and staring at particularly nothing. Not a flower, no snow, just zilch. Him and a white room without a door felt so weary to him, and yet so peaceful.
As hard as he tried to visualize anything, the images all came blurred or became a pure white fragment. A memory of Sophia came to a blur. The time he woke up first and confronted a redhead in strange clothing became hazy. Working alongside Cliff turned to a white. Being with Albel—his eyes blinked quickly—oddly that remained. His face hurt—reminding himself he has been bruised but apparently it didn't show—and yet Fayt was still able to laugh. The first words he could clearly hear from visualizing the unusual scarlet eyed and bi-colored haired swordsman: maggot, worm, and even Leingod.
Nothing can happen.
No day, no night.
No cold, no warmth.
No scenery, no chaos.
Fayt sighed in ennui, letting his back slump and fall on the white nothingness of a ground. He closed his emerald orbs, trying to visualize something more than Albel just bad-mouthing him.
He felt a poke on his stomach; he ignored it for a while until the gentle pokes became painful jabs. He yelped and shot up in a sitting position.
The little redhead.
"What are you doing here?!" Fayt asked, rubbing the pain of such a forceful jab.
She shook her head, wagging her little finger with a smug smile. Her fringes were swept past her ear and her amber orbs looking quite friendly towards Fayt. "I should ask you the same thing. It's too early for you to be here, way too early."
"I'm dead?"
"No, silly. Someone thinks that, though." The little redhead giggled, "We're deep within your subconscious where you picture yourself in death. Umm…what you imagine Heaven as, more easily put. Consider waking up?"
Fayt nodded, blankly staring the girl for a fraction of a second. His eyes delve more into a deep question glare, "Who are you?"
She turned around, skipping at her pace with a bubbly laughter and her little white apron flopping around. She turned back around, holding out a tempting double chocolate chip cookie that Fayt absolutely drooled over.
"I am known as Apris."
Her small body glowed and increased in size to the frame of a man, the white shine prevented any sight of his real form. Fayt's mouth opened wide-a-gap, he held out his hand, "W-wait!"
-
Fayt suddenly shot up, eyes widening when he failed to noticed his body wrapped in blankets, "At least give me the cookie!"
It then clicked; Fayt craned his neck as his eyes met the swordsman walking in with a damp towel, utterly lost from the outburst. Fayt blushed, washing away the embarrassment with nervous laughter. The blunette's laughter stopped when a wet towel came flying at his face; Fayt's head successfully dodged the cloth not a second too late.
Albel sat in a chair, burying his face in his hands, sulking the whole situation silently. Fayt eyed the comfort he was on: Albel's bed. The odd thing that confounded the emerald hued is from the beginning he has been trying to get on Albel's bed one way or another. Only now he gets the luxury when injured – it made Fayt twitch in annoyance. His emerald pools peered at his bandaged wrapped arm, a little blood smudging most of the white cloth, but still fine either way.
Norton died of blood loss, Fayt could have too.
"I'm dead?"
"No, silly. Someone thinks that, though."
Fayt formed a smile on his pale lips; he did feel slightly dizzy from all that went on while his life seemed on the edge the entire day, from his underlings almost stabbing his head if hadn't ducked – to Norton and his out of the ordinary weapon. And to now, it was Albel's consideration at this time that made Fayt feel important – someone worth worrying about.
"Albel, come over here and touch me."
Albel's scarlet eyes glared deeply into Fayt's emerald orbs, even Fayt was surprise himself how much Albel prevented himself showing more emotions than necessary. "How dare you joke--"
Fayt frowned, "I'm not joking."
The swordsman faltered the idea to bring himself closer and nevertheless stood up from the chair, his steps echoing the silent room. Fayt held out his hand and waited for Albel to touch it, however the swordsman was still undecided about the situation. Albel did rise his hand and Fayt was the one to gently grasp Albel's hand, "You feel flesh right? You can feel my body has no resemblance to a cold corpse. I'm alive, so don't worry. You didn't miss me too much, right?"
Fayt yanked Albel's hand, letting his arms capture Albel's thin body in a warm embrace, and it was a double point that he caught the swordsman by surprise. Albel wanted nothing more to pry himself away for his heartbeat went in a sprinted speed, making the man afraid that it can actually be heard. Albel's creamy-white face felt utterly warm as it delved into a deep pink blush. The blunette held Albel's leg and brought them on his lap so it would be more like a cradled hug.
"I'm sorry for getting you on a dragon…I'm sorry, Albel, I'm sorry…"
"What are you blabbering about?"
"I'm—not going to die…and I'm not planning for it to happen anytime soon. You have someone, Albel. You have me, always…"
Albel kept quiet and listened more attentively.
"Hurt me, beat me, I don't care. Kill me if you want to." Fayt said the last with a smile and pictured the war.
Albel ripped his body away, his finger—and claws—digging into Fayt's shoulder blades, "Why do you keep insisting for me to kill you?!"
Fayt blinked. He let one hand cup dearly on Albel's face, his thumb sending soothing circles, "For when the day comes that you come to hate me." Fayt emerald eyes pried away, his smile saddening when he clearly visualizes the day, too. If he accurately counts, it will be by tomorrow that there will a sense of a hate and betrayal no matter how much Fayt was against it and without a way to prevent it.
As Fayt looks back on his former self, this mission has been the best yet for it actually brought enlightenment to his secretly cold heart. Not because it was always a thrill ride to piss Albel off, it was more than that. Meeting Sophia has brought him out his heartless mentality, and in a way it helped him get through this mission.
Except that large portion that meant the most: meeting Albel and finding a thing, as Cliff stated, someone the blunette has grown 'attach' to.
"I…can't hate…you…" Albel professed in mumbles.
It was slightly a weary response for Fayt; he actually didn't want nor expected a response from the bi-colored haired. There was a moment of silence and finally Fayt let down his hand to cuddle Albel's thin frame, "Remember that time when I mentioned Sophia's questions?"
Albel nodded and so Fayt continued talking, "The reason she asked me some questions is because I left her, an old friend…for someone who was mad at me."
Albel rolled his eyes.
"In the hallways, she asked me these two questions: 'why can't I be just as important?' And then she posed another, 'who is more important?'"
"I didn't want to answer her because I was as confused just like her. Up until it was all just a spiral of no answers. She's been there for me for as long as I can remember, then why isn't she important enough…? Who was my real top priority…?"
The bi-colored looked the other way; he didn't want to hear this. He was in denial that he would be the 'important,' but somehow he thought of himself that way as well.
"The explanation: she couldn't be as important because I believed she could heal herself and always find her own path. Sophia is that kind of person; she can mend any wound in no time. I didn't care for her as much as I thought—she was like a little sister—but no one can come close to the person I hold near and dear. And you are that person, Albel…"
His scarlet orbs widened and his sunken fingers in Fayt's shoulders loosened when he directed his attention on the blunette directly.
Fayt smiled brightly, "Albel, I love you."
Albel positioned his hand on his face, covering up the embarrassment and happiness as his face grew warmer and darker in color. Fayt laughed, thinking it was cute as always.
"No need to answer, I wasn't expecting much of a response or any answer at all."
Fayt picked Albel's body so the blunette can leave the room – Fayt was absolutely famished, he had a strong sense it was time for dinner anyway. The teen was held back before so, he couldn't even move from the awkward hug Albel gave him – slender arms wrapped around Fayt's neck.
"-it again…"
Fayt scratched his head confusedly, "I didn't quite catch you."
"Say it again, maggot!"
Fayt blinked by the insult, the blunette's only assumption must be for the swordsman to reclaim his leftover egoism. Fayt shrugged, this is Albel. Moreover, Fayt wrapped his arms around Albel's back and clutched him closer, "I love you, I love you so much. I love you, Albel. I love you…"
---
While Albel fell asleep on his bed, Fayt took this chance to eat. There wasn't much left considering he got there very late, but the senior cook did provide him a decent meal from any leftover ingredients. Since the little girl always seems to be brewing trouble in the kitchen, Fayt just had to ask, "Have you seen that little redheaded girl?"
"What girl?"
Fayt dropped the question, thanking the lady and going back to Albel's room. 'Was that little girl serious about who she said she was? Whoa, hold on a minute! I thought Apris…is a guy! And Nel told me he set his own body on fire to be Elicoor… How can he be living in this face of the world?'
His head started to throb, 'Ehh, everyone is a weird one. Nothing ever makes sense.'
Fayt stepped inside and closed the door, "Apris…" he inaudibly mumbled. His emerald hues caught the sight of the large pile of gravel. He moaned from already suffering from a horrible back pain from last night's corner sleeping – his arm is injured as well, he also he didn't want the smell of dragon urine to stick to his bandages.
The blunette twitched and crawled near the ruble, "B-best not to complain…"
"…Why don't you sleep here then…Fayt?"
Fayt's ears perked up to the audible whisper, Albel was wrapped in his blanket and staring nervously at the blunette. Fayt sheepishly grinned and nodded; the blunette crawled over Albel's body and scrambled to the other side. He sighed in happiness, when could he remember to ever sleep in so much comfort? Besides the injury, that is.
Albel found it odd that Fayt made no attempt to touch him, hug him, it was quite…lonely. It almost drove the swordsman mad; he was actually getting use to all the passes for affections.
Albel crouched up from his bed, turning a bright pink from what he was going to ask. Before the swordsman was able to do so, Fayt shot up and gasped – loudly, "Did you just call me Fayt?" asked the blunette; his expression was evident enough of pure shock. The lad continued, "Please tell me I'm not hearing things."
Albel went back to lie on the bed, making sure the blanket fully covered his head to muffle his voice, "Isn't that your name?"
Fayt felt butterflies in his stomach with a warming sensation rising to his cheeks—blushing, indeed—and felt so incredibly cheery again and grabbed Albel's torso in a hugging cuddle fest – although the other male refused to show himself from the covers.
"You're so cute!"
Albel felt those arms drift away from him suddenly – like it jerked away on contact. He wanted to find out this weird reaction, so he kicked away the blanket as scarlet orbs eyed the deeply embarrassed teen. Has the tables turned? The bi-colored haired always assumed his would be the victim or the flustered one.
'Compared to our first meeting, a lot has changed.'
The blunette completely surrendered. "Sorry…aha ha…"
Albel was definitely not satisfied with such an answer, "Having second thoughts?"
Fayt shook his head, "No, no, of course not! I'm just--" the teen looked away, clenching the folds of the blankets tightly, "--trying to keep my…excitement…under control."
The teen squirmed under the clear stare Albel gave him, not at the face – no, the stare was directed down below. Even with the blanket covering, it didn't provide much help. Albel shifted his head back at the walls, "We could try…" he suggested.
"Really?! I'll go buy the things—I doubt you have anything for safety—I'll be back!"
At soon as Albel went to stop Fayt, the blunette already scrambled out of the bed and out of the door. The swordsman sighed deeply, crawling away from any of the leftover parts of the blanket covering his body. Albel's hands gripped the ledge of his bed as he looked underneath it, pouting that all he bought will go to waste.
"I did have everything ready…"
---
Fayt wanted to ascertain that he closed the door by checking it twice, his radiant smile twisted into a frown—picturing ugly women made it go flaccid, thankfully enough—as he then descended down the stairs. Stuffing one hand into his pocket, there was the feeling of cool plastic with a slippery hold.
The packet was still there.
---
If only there can be a musician following Fayt so whomever can play Johann Sebastian Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D minor in the background will match the looming doors of Luther's mansion that steadily opened – the creaking made Fayt's spine grow cold.
"Ah, dearest Fayt! I'm so glad you can make it. Come in, come in."
Fayt's emerald hues tried to fake as much friendliness as possible, preventing his eyes from shuddering to seeing this accursed Luther Lansfeld, "Don't mind if" 'Burn you, hunt you down, castrate you, kill you, slit your throat, make sure someone sexually transmits a disease in your body' "I do."
Fayt ignored all the fancy portraits hanging up in Luther's glory, most of them were poses as it represented him as a noble leader. Or portray him as glorious man with children gathering around him and holding hands. 'Pfft, what a lie.' The walls were of a pure white layer, a second coating exposed the detailed swirls of a sky-blue color. The walls were divided by a single chrome lining, as the other side was painted in a full sky-blue with angelic figures all around. The roof—it was not flat but round—had more angelic creatures painted near a replication of a sun. In the middle of the replication held the very large crystal chandelier.
The pillars were made of the purest marble—at least four of them were in this single room alone—as the floors were made of ceramic tiles. Instead of displaying beautiful flowers in a vase, it was consisted of pure silver vases with real gold carved into flowers as the very center core of every flower had a large diamond. While around the room where large sculptures of the one and only: Luther. If that was not enough to satisfy his needs for luxury, then the fireplace was just another display to add least enlighten such classiness with wonderful taste of something modern.
'This place screams "I have enough Fol to burn."'
"Come, Fayt. Sit down."
The blunette craned his neck and sweat dropped; the loveseat simply looked new and recently placed in the following spot for this very occasion. And Luther's sexy, seductive smirk didn't help Fayt either.
'Think of Albel, think of Albel…! You hate Luther, but don't show that much hostility…'
The couch across had boxes and shopping packs piled on one another – that's a no-go.
'Do it, Fayt. You have to.'
The teen considered himself thin enough to leave a safe gap between Fayt and the blond man. A steel bucket rested on a table with yellow pastel infused with cyan blue color doily designed in the perfect net patterns – the ice inside the bucket held the bottle of cool pomello juice and alongside stood two cups.
"I would've served the finest wine." Luther melodramatically sighed, "Alas, you are too young."
'I'm nineteen; I think I can manage alcohol!'
"Juice is for children – might as well go with the best Airyglyph has to offer."
'I'm not a child, bastard.'
Luther picked up the glass cup, pouring the juice for two: Fayt and himself. The blunette quivered, he had to keep his eyes on Luther or throw up looking at the hanging partial-nude portrait of the blond with fruits, an imaginary garden scenery, and chaise lounge – how authentic.
"Sir Luther! Is this fine?" a young maid called from the kitchen. Luther picked his body whilst excusing himself for the moment.
With the wonderful opportunity, Fayt dug into his pocket and yanked the sleeping drug packet. It dissolved into Fayt's cup splendidly as he then brought the packet back inside his pocket. He looked around desperately on the table, fetching the sugar packets behind the bucket. On cue, Luther walked into Fayt pouring white sprinkles substance into the blonde's cup.
"I apologize; it was just a petty problem." Luther hotly said, letting his gloved finger slide on Fayt's chin.
Fayt hid his disgust with a nervous laughter, closing his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck in uneasiness.
Luther reached over to the cups and switches them, the glass accidentally hit each other and Fayt mentally smirked, 'He fell for it.'
The blond picked up his cup, "In trade, I will keep your secret of any relation to that Aquarian spy as long as you intend you stay here, my little Fayt."
"Sure…"
Fayt took a long gulp to the pomello juice, appalled by the extra sugar combination added to his drink – better than accidentally getting the salt instead. His emerald pools watched conscientiously at the cup Luther 'elegantly' gulped down—pinky mannerism, and all—as he placed the glass cup on the table. Luther grew slightly weary and his eyes were forcing to close.
Fayt sipped on his drink, watching with amusement as Luther fell into sleep on the loveseat. Fayt picked the tipping glass from Luther's hand, dumping the remainder of the fluid on the blonde's hair and face.
"If only you knew how much I rather have you dead than asleep."
The teen slammed the door on the way out, hearing the shrill cry of a worried maid screaming out Luther's name.
---
Fayt waited patiently outside for the evening to turn to a dark night, making this the ideal chance to have everyone sleeping by now. The guards were off duty by the time Fayt slid between the narrow doors into main entrance. As the two men went off, everyone went lights out and no one was in sight or running around last minute, leaving Fayt at ease to enter the prison cells.
The keys were in his pocket and he opened the barred door. Nel did not utter a word, her body feeling perfectly well for a long walk back to Aquios and sufficiently enough to get out of this cold nation. She began with some stretches for her legs and arms, scrunching her nose to the fowl scent of the dead soldier. A pity that no one comes down here to actually check the basis. Who cares, though? More of a benefit for Nel, she smirked and gripped the documents and her leather bag tightly behind her back.
Fayt: "Let me do one last thing."
They egress the prison cells with prudence and very wary of their surroundings just in case anyone loitered around the hallways or castle. Both walked up the stairs in absolute silence, creeping into a half-opened oak door. Nel stepped inside right after Fayt, holding the documents tightly she's been hiding behind her back the whole while since the blunette was always ahead of her.
The blue haired teen dug around the room, finding the old paper of the King's celebration—using the blank side—and a quill pen with an ink bottle conveniently right beside.
Fayt dipped the quill in the ink bottle, scribbling down only a few words. Once done, he went to Albel's bedside and examined his frowning yet angelic sleeping face. The blunette kissed Albel softly enough to not wake him and then he took a few steps back, motioning Nel to follow him out. Fayt held on the door's frame, smiling at Albel's sleeping face one more time. 'I wanted to make love to you so much, I'm sorry…I just can't in this disposition…'
He swiftly exits out of the room.
As for Nel, she might as well take her kunai and assassinate the Wicked One here and now while she still has the chance. In the end, she refuses and will let Fayt do the killing for she has enough to deal with – partial guilt? The redhead shrugged the idea and took silent footsteps to the table, pin-pointed whether it was in a correct spot to see bright and early.
Nel snatched the note Fayt wrote on and left behind for Albel to see, her fingers controllably fixed the slight error with a malicious smirk. 'Fayt will just have no choice.'
The documents were neatly piled, with the finishing touch of the note stuck all the way in the back.
'Show no mercy, Albel Nox. Fayt needs to have a reason to protect himself against your inflicted rage. Let's see who will be the first one killed off.'
Nel let her eyes loom across the hallway for a fruit bowl remaining in place on a small pillar-like stand. She frowned and grabbed a bright red apple and let the fruit rest on top of the documents.
---
The pair has already knocked the remaining guards to unconsciousness when their bodies plummet the harsh snow. Nel proposed it will be risky getting through this path and would've been better off if they went through the vent in the prison cells, but Fayt reminded her that he already had someone in store for this speedy trip, so she followed through the deep snow blowing past her legs with the crispy winds resembling hot-white knives prickling her skin.
Fayt lead Nel, ushering her inside the hidden cavern—regardless of the monster's corpses that still lies around from the last kill—blocking out the cold winds for a brief moment.
"Peanut, Peanut!" He bantered, fixing his expression to a smile – or at least trying.
The stomps came from the passageway, revealing the mighty green Hauler beast sniffing Fayt's pockets.
"Easy there, I got your food. I went and fetched it while Nel took her time." He mused, rubbing the snout of the Hauler beast.
The redhead crossed her arms, eyebrow twitching to the following of: 'took her time.'
Both jumped in the cart simultaneously, bumping head accidentally with excruciating pain included in the mix. As they apologized to each other, Peanut abruptly stopped at the fork between the two destinations, this lead Fayt to poke his head out of the cart.
"That's right, tear down the wall. We're going to Peterney, on the r-r-ri-right…" Fayt's words quaver in tone; his hands were already trembling with a wetness forming in his emerald eyes. Little tears dropped on his fingers as they came streaming down Fayt's cheek as he sobbed loudly.
He didn't care how much his crying sounded like a kid that has lost some toy.
No, it was much more than that – Fayt lost someone.
Someone that every right to be loved and needed love.
Nel jumped in astonishment; hesitating and recoiling back her hand at every moment she tried to comfort the blue haired teen with a pat on the back. Her emerald eyes locked back in the trail of darkness, her theory was correct – Fayt may just be confused, is all.
Nel tried to latch a smirk on her chapped lips; it must be the root of problem. The redhead rubbed her temples to reduce her overbearing stress.
'Victims, playthings…they're all the same! This is just new experience, Fayt has no real idea.'
Peanut slammed the wall, protecting the pair from any rocks flying out due to the sudden raze, emitting a whining sound to be the considerate one to console Fayt instead. The blunette crawled out of the cart, sitting on Peanut's strong neck and hugging it with his cold and shaky arms, "Al-Albel…Albel…"
Peanut slowed down its pace as Fayt fell asleep, hiccupping and sobbing reduced to silent breathing.
Nel sighed. The redhead cupped her hand on her cheek, analyzing deeply the notions of Fayt's reaction. She shook her head, "I just don't understand him."
.:●●●●●●x●●●●●●:.
A/N: Overbearing, Nel? Psh pawsh. This chapter left me dying inside, I don't know how though. And my soul died twice now 'cause I revised it twice. D: Well, what did I tell ya? Fayt just can't escape or let Albel go with him. Hello, with Nel there, he'll be screwed over – more than usual, too. What did you think of the little girl? 8B Yesh, HE IS Apris. :D And now I remembered—actually, after reading—that Apris is a GUY. I seriously thought it was a girl. Now I picture him as a kinda god—in the game—to be able to willingly go into any form he wants. Why not be super innocent to go in a little girl's kinda body than a little boy? That means…THE TEACHING IS WRONG. Remember?AU-ish;D Opposite gender changes must be a fun idea, that's my logic! 8DDD Eck, whatever. I go with 'it.' For now, excuse the mistakes.