Albedo stands by a stone next to Aether, gazing at a horizon he cannot see. "Can you describe it for me?"

Aether dutifully does. He gestures at what looks like a formless white expanse and describes a visage of snow, hills and mountains completely covered in white, a vast icy lake nestled between a valley, and the colourful spires of a distant Zapolyarny palace.

Albedo listens patiently, occasionally looking away from the featureless horizon to their intertwined hands. Or rather, how Aether has awkwardly positioned his ungloved hand so Albedo can intertwine his own against it in a pretence of physical contact.

It's a silly facade, but one Albedo wants to partake in. If he wasn't a coward, he could have enjoyed the real thing.

… And if he keeps being a coward, he will fade away before he can voice such desires. He doesn't mind rejection. Leaving such things unsaid however, renders his existence lesser than a shade's.

"Aether," Albedo speaks up, and his companion pauses his narration to look back at him.

Albedo glances back down at their intertwined hands. He moves his fingers closer against Aether's skin, partway submerging them, unsure if Aether can even sense the difference.

"During our picnic, I wanted to kiss you," Albedo says, looking away at the featureless horizon. "That's why I got so physically close to you. I wanted to do everything I hadn't done. Die without regrets."

And Albedo couldn't even do that. Sure he could rationalise to himself that he didn't want to guilt Aether even more when the time came, but if so, he did an awful attempt at it. Inviting him to an outing, keeping the friendly facade, then hurting him in a pursuit of death.

Albedo's surroundings momentarily become even more distant. His vision tunnels as his hearing and Aether's response becomes muffled.

"– Albedo?" comes Aether's voice as that moment passes and Albedo catches himself staring at Aether's concerned face, his form the only clear object in his vision.

"S-sorry, I didn't catch what you said," Albedo says, using all his composure to stay still, as if he merely spaced out. Terrible. Here he is, appearing inattentive at such a critical moment.

But if Aether has any misgivings about his behaviour, it doesn't show on his face. Quite the opposite, his smile is as warm as the sun itself. "I said when you get back…" he looks down and Albedo follows his gaze to see him trying to close his hand against Albedo's even when his too passes through his immaterial form, "we'll have a proper one. And then as many more as you want."

… Aether reciprocates his feelings. How wonderful.

Albedo can't help but laugh, even as a bitterness rises through him. "There's not much time."

Aether's smile drops to a worried form as he looks Albedo up and down.

"You've noticed my condition is deteriorating," Albedo continues when Aether stays silent. "I think it's something similar, if not exactly like the phenomenon of erosion you described to me a while back." He looks down at his immaterial form, appearing less and less detailed by the day. "Only I have no body to ground and shield me from it, much less a divine form possibly crafted to combat that very thing."

But once again, Albedo's not telling the full story. Truth be told, he expected to deteriorate much faster. This was why he didn't go through with this plan in the first place. By his estimate, he should have only lasted for a few days before the last remnants of his mind were swept away by the torrential leyline flow that sustains him.

But Aether's presence once again proved to be nothing sort of a miracle.

Initially, Albedo expected to be able to manifest only when close to a leyline blossom, which would in turn speed up his erosion. However, and Albedo's not sure on the why or how, being close to Aether seems to sustain him, as if Albedo is feeding, or more appropriately leeching, off his lifeforce. More than that, Aether's presence also seems to delay the rate of Albedo's erosion, for he should have already lost his mind.

In fact, merely being beside Aether gives Albedo strength. If alone, Albedo's deformed Vision would have withered and dissolved to dust, like the rest of his body. But Aether holding it in his hand, on his person, imbues it and Albedo with a strange warmth, like sitting next to a fire during a snowstorm.

And the effect has only gotten stronger. When Albedo first materialised, Aether's presence was like a warm pitter-patter of rain. Now, Aether pushing their hands closer together makes Albedo feel like he's submerging inside a host spring, a river of nectar and ambrosia.

These warm feelings from being close to Aether can only compare to a strange inward warmth that surges through Albedo when Aether looks at him full of concern and says: "Tell me what I can do to help."

Albedo smiles, and leans into that golden glow, feeling his scattered thoughts coming back together to make a presentable outline of possible courses of action.

Next to him, Aether yawns.