Emotions seethed at Rubedo's light response, and it was familiar, so familiar, to be angry in this direction--without a killing rage, or a tumultuous pain behind it, it could almost be something like from before all had shattered. Fallen to ruin.
He blinked, overwhelmed by a brief and torrid wave of pure regret.
Nigredo slipped into his mind--the moment passed; Albedo swallowed his petty sorrow.
Except he couldn't. Not now, and not with Rubedo in front of him, and Nigredo connected to his mind. Pain flashed on his face before he muffled it with irritation, but his emotions thrummed with clear and simple wanting-- It wasn't the time. And no longer could he claim that--
There were two instances that he found his head nestled in Nigredo's lap. Two instances, in that park and in solitary, that Albedo sang out his perfectly simple, wretched desire to just go back to how things used to be--
No, he didn't hold that want anymore. He desired forward momentum, and that was legitimate, but still, now, he just wanted things to be different. More than anything else.
Without saying a word to either, Albedo picked his way over the window ledge and moved over to Nigredo, slipping behind the other and holding the back of his shirt, his head laying against shoulder-blade. It was a close mirror, to a time long since past, to two brothers confronting a third on the girl that he liked, and the songs that they played, and Albedo was aware of the similarity. He didn't care.
{I'm sorry,} he finally gave to Nigredo. Sorry that that was discussed. Sorry Albedo couldn't make anything better. Sorry that, in the end, it would be the youngest who likely turned to comfort him instead.
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He blinked, overwhelmed by a brief and torrid wave of pure regret.
Nigredo slipped into his mind--the moment passed; Albedo swallowed his petty sorrow.
Except he couldn't. Not now, and not with Rubedo in front of him, and Nigredo connected to his mind. Pain flashed on his face before he muffled it with irritation, but his emotions thrummed with clear and simple wanting-- It wasn't the time. And no longer could he claim that--
There were two instances that he found his head nestled in Nigredo's lap. Two instances, in that park and in solitary, that Albedo sang out his perfectly simple, wretched desire to just go back to how things used to be--
No, he didn't hold that want anymore. He desired forward momentum, and that was legitimate, but still, now, he just wanted things to be different. More than anything else.
Without saying a word to either, Albedo picked his way over the window ledge and moved over to Nigredo, slipping behind the other and holding the back of his shirt, his head laying against shoulder-blade. It was a close mirror, to a time long since past, to two brothers confronting a third on the girl that he liked, and the songs that they played, and Albedo was aware of the similarity. He didn't care.
{I'm sorry,} he finally gave to Nigredo. Sorry that that was discussed. Sorry Albedo couldn't make anything better. Sorry that, in the end, it would be the youngest who likely turned to comfort him instead.