X (In Love and War: Chapter 2) X

Fayt took his time returning home from the fields. He was almost afraid that when he walked in the door, everything would be ruined and pillaged and his guest would be long gone with anything of worth. That wasn't the case, however; everything was exactly as he had left it, and Albel was fast asleep in the bed. The sun had long since gone down behind the hills, which meant that Evia would be returning for the second time to join him for dinner, as he always did. Sometimes the blue-haired boy would make dinner and have it ready, and sometimes he would wait until his friend came so he would have someone to help him. Tonight, he decided, he would just go ahead and make it. "I wonder if... Albel will want to eat with us?" he murmured to himself as he placed a pot on the make-shift stove and lit the fire beneath it. "But what would he eat?"

He considered going up and asking the Wicked One if he was interested in dinner, but decided that he would set a place and cook a little extra, and leave it up to him to join them. The menu tonight consisted of stew, made with some of the corn he had picked earlier, a few boiled eggs, cut up apples, cheese, and little bits of meat he had managed to buy for only a few Fol; a leftover loaf of bread; and freshly squeezed orange juice. It was an unethical dinner, but it would have to do. Anyone who complained would just have to go without. While the stew simmered on the stove, Fayt set the table -- three places this time, instead of the usual two. Luckily, he had just enough dishes and silverware to accomodate another person.

Just as he was ladling stew into the bowls, bread already set out on the table, all three cups full of orange juice, Evia came trouncing into the house. "Hey, Fayt!" he chirped, offering his friend something of a wave and plopping down in his usual chair. "Where's your little sexy friend?"

"Upstairs, sleeping," Fayt replied without a thought to Evia's description of Albel. When he realized what the dark-haired boy had said, he shot him a look, but it went unnoticed.

"Is he going to eat with us? There are three places..." Evia observed, idly swinging his legs, heels scraping against the wood floor. Fayt nodded, setting the pot back on the dying down fire to keep it relatively warm in case anyone wanted seconds.

"Yeah... I'll go see if he wants to come down, hang on a sec." The blue-haired boy scrambled as noiselessly as possible up the stairs and peered around the doorframe into his bedroom. It seemed that his guest was still fast asleep, but he couldn't be sure. Clearing his throat softly, he inched into the room and wrung his hands. "Al...bel?"

The man stirred slightly, apparantly having some kind of horrid dream, for he tossed and grumbled every so often. Fayt hesitated, then gingerly shook his shoulder. "Albel. Hey, Albel! Wake up..." Albel continued to snooze, occasionally making a concerning whimper-like sound from the depths of his dreams. Fayt shook him a little harder. "Albel!"

"Mm." The tossing and unnerving noises ceased abruptly, and the boy could see the glints of Albel's red eyes through the dark. "What...? Oh, it's you. What do you want?"

Huffing a little at the impoliteness, Fayt withdrew his hand from the wicked swordsman's shoulder and placed it on own hip, instead. "Are you interested in having dinner, or would you rather starve?" he snapped, having almost forgotten how easy it was to lose your patience around this guy. Albel did not answer for a few moments.

"Dinner? Did you make it?"

"Well, obviously."

"Are you going to eat it, too?"

"Duh! Evia, you, and me."

"Evia?"

"Are you going to come eat, or not?" Fayt demanded, scuffing his heel aggrievedly. "If you aren't, it'll just be more for us."

Albel sat up slowly, tentatively, a mild scowl on his face. "Fine." He shoved the blankets off him and swung his legs to the floor, uncertainly standing up. Fayt reached out to help him. "Where is this 'dinner' of yours?"

"Downstairs," the blue-haired boy responded, beginning to wonder just how they were going to get there without Albel injuring himself even more. "It's just a short flight... I'll help you, okay?" Giving the man no time to answer, he took Albel's arm and began leading him to the door, moving at a pace that would allow the man to get used to being on his feet again.

"I can handle it myself," the Wicked One grumbled, half to himself, yet he didn't make any attempt at resisting the assistance he was given. His pride was taking a small hit, one that he could possibly overlook. And it would be worth it to do so: he was pretty damn hungry.

They reached the top of the stairs. Fayt didn't stop for a second, moving his guest down one step at a time, until they reached the bottom. Evia was still waiting at the table, eying the food desperately. "There you two are!" he cried when he spotted the two approaching the kitchen, "I thought I was going to starve to death before you came back!"

"Sorry," Fayt replied off-handedly, showing Albel to his seat, then finally sitting down in his own chair. "I hope it's not cold. Anyway... dig in!" Evia immediately did as he was told without a single thought, gobbling down his share of the food as if it were going out of style. Fayt was used to that behavior from his friend, and he usually ate rather quickly to himself, but this time, he was more interested in watching Albel. After the wicked swordsman had taken a few bites, he couldn't help but ask, "How... how is it?"

Albel paused, spoon raised halfway to his mouth, and looked at Fayt from the corner of his eye. "It's... edible." He took another bite and swallowed it down, then sipped from his orange juice. "You say you made all of this yourself?"

"Ye-yes..."

"Tastes like it." Albel smirked and took a piece of bread for himself and slathered it with stew. Fayt lowered his head, feeling his cheeks burn and tingle, mostly from embarassment. He couldn't tell if the guy was calling him down, or complimenting him. He guessed the former, but didn't want to go jumping to conclusions.

"Aren't you going to eat, Fayt?" Evia asked between slurps of his drink, "It's delicious as usual!"

"Oh. Oh, right." The blue-haired boy nodded and picked up his spoon, eating slowly. Of course, Evia had already licked his bowl clean and was going for seconds by the time he had finished, and Albel was nearly finished, as well.

"Soooo. Albel!" Evia piped up, propping his elbow up on the table and resting his head in his hand, "You're from Airyglyph, huh?"

Albel eyed the dark-haired boy suspiciously. "I suppose."

"What's it like there? I've never been to Airyglyph." Evia beamed, looking over Albel interestedly. Fayt's green eyes darted back and forth between the two of them nervously. What if Evia screwed up and let slip that they were in Aquios? But he couldn't very well just jump in there and interrupt them or anything... that would be acting too fishy.

Albel waved a hand, nibbling on the crust of his bread. "It's... cold."

"Especially in winter, I guess it would be," Evia giggled, spreading his fingers over his mouth to disguise his smile. "But if it's so cold, how come you're dressed like... that?"

Albel paused, teeth still sunk into his bread, and looked down at his attire. He hadn't ever really noticed anything wrong with it before. "Is it a problem?"

"No, no!" Evia giggled some more, unable to hide his amusement any more for it glistened too clearly in his eyes. "It's just that... well, you sure are an eye-catcher! Right, Fayt?"

Both Albel and Evia turned to look at Fayt, who stared back at them, stunned. "U-Uh..." He shot his friend an irritated, thanks a lot, look and nervously smiled at Albel. "R-Right! Eye-catcher. Ah... ah-huh."

"Bah," was all Albel the Wicked had to say on the matter. Evia squealed and giggled joyously. Fayt, still blushing hotly, scooped up everyone's plates and dumped them in the basin he washed everything in, dumped some water on them, and left them to wash later.

"Well!" Evia peeped, standing up and leaning on the back of his chair. "Hate to eat and run, but I promised I'd go visit Dion later! Although I do hate to leave such a hottie behind..."

The blue-haired boy, who had been drinking down his orange juice, choked into his cup and spat the juice back into its container. "Evia!" he scolded, wiping his chin of any drink that happened to be dribbling down it. Evia only laughed all the more wildly at his chastisement.

Albel perked an eyebrow, looking at the brown-haired boy as if he were insane, then turned his gaze to Fayt and jabbed his thumb at the mental case in question. "Is he always such a maggot?"

"Um, yep, all the time." Fayt rubbed the back of his neck, embarassed to high heaven and back. "You get used to it after you've known him nearly your whole life..."

Evia merely laughed a little more and approached the door, pulling it open. "Whatever! You two lovebirds try and have fun without me, alright? See you tomorrow!" And off he went. Fayt gagged into his juice cup again, blushing all over.

"What an idiot," Albel commented, rising from his chair with little difficulty. He felt a little less weak now that he had gotten something into his stomach. "Fools do not seem to be in short supply this season."

Fayt dropped his cup into the sink and furrowed his eyebrows at Albel. Was he insulting him again? What had he done this time? "I... guess you'll be wanting to go back to bed," he mumbled dismally, shuffling his feet.

"No," the Wicked One responded carelessly, "I'm going outside for some fresh air."

"...You can't!" Fayt yelped, jumping between Albel and the door. "I... I mean, you can't go outside at night, otherwise... all the uh, guards, go after you."

"Didn't that maggot you call a friend just go out?" Albel retorted, one hand on his hip.

"Yeah... but..." The boy's eyes darted from side to side. "He's a citizen of Kirlsa, so it's okay! You're not from around here, so they might, uh..."

"I get the idea already," Albel sighed, turning away and carefully beginning his trek back up the stairs. "You're not going to let me out. I get it. Shut up already." Fayt stood transfixed as the man disappeared upstairs, beginning to get the blood flowing in him again. He found it hard to think on his feet like that, especially when those garnet eyes were burning holes in his own.

"That... was close," he whispered to himself, slapping a hand over his heart and waiting until he had sufficiently caught his breath before he followed Albel upstairs. He peered into the room to make sure Albel was situated alright, and let out a strangled gasp, darting away from the door. What the hell is he doing? he thought, clamping a hand over his mouth.

Inside the room, Albel was working on getting his shirt off. Fayt listened, the back of his head pressed against the wall, to the faint rustling of material, then the soft creak of the bed that signified that the man had finally laid down. The boy took a breath, then peeked in again, eyes softening at the figure hidden under the blankets. He pushed the door open some and walked right in. "Everything alright?"

Albel poked his head out from under the blankets and turned his head to look at Fayt. "Just fine," he growled, tucking his legs up closer to his body. "Why, what do you want from me now?"

"I just... well, there's only one bedroom in the house... and I have to sleep somewhere..." Fayt practically whispered. He took a spare pillow from one side of the room and dropped it square in the middle of the room, plopping down on the floor and resting his head on it. "So I just... you know, I'll be right here if you need anything."

The wicked swordsman was silent for a moment. "You're going to sleep on the floor?" he finally asked, incredulity evident in his voice.

"Um... yes?"

"With no blankets at all."

"...Yeah?"

"In this kind of weather?"

"Mmhm..."

"I don't think so." Albel sat up halfway, propping himself up with his elbows. "Come here, maggot."

Blood suddenly running colder than the floor beneath him, Fayt got to his knees, peeking at Albel through the dark. He was only able to make out a rough outline of his frame in the moonlight that came in through the window; nothing but a dark shadow with two glinting eyes watching his every move. He got to his feet and moved over to the bed, trembling half from the cold, and have from being a little scared. This was a mass murderer he was dealing with, after all.

Albel reached out swiftly and seized the boy's arm, yanking him onto the bed, causing him to cry out in surprise as he tumbled onto the swordsman's legs. The older man practically dragged Fayt to his side, shifting the blankets over him, then lay back down. "This is where you will sleep," he said firmly.

Fayt swallowed hard, unsure of which direction to inch: further from Albel and the warmth of his body, or closer to him and the danger of being killed in his sleep. His mind was made up for him when a thin, strong arm pulled him closer around the middle. The boy continued to shake wildly. He could feel Albel's cold breath on his neck, and wondered if he would bite him, like in the stories of vampires that he and Sophia would read together. They would both get so scared, they would have to sleep with their parents at night, clutching cross figurines and bits of garlic close to them.

"Will you stop shaking so much?" Albel snapped, clutching the boy's ragged shirt in his fist and lifting his head from the pillow to stare at him. "Such a curious maggot."

The blue-haired boy shut his eyes and focused on calming down. He almost found it impossible, until he heard Albel's breathing regulate beside him. As soon as the man was asleep, he managed to relax, and even moved a little closer, curling up against the Wicked One.

As he thought about it, he found Albel was quite the "curious maggot" himself. He seemed to be as cold as the snow falling from the sky on the inside, but he was awfully warm on the outside. It was better than sleeping alone, with emptiness all around.