Against The Cold ~ Alberose

Chapter 15

Sucrose glanced down at her watch. It was five-thirty. Just about forty-five minutes until the Fatui-Abyss Order alliance would attack the remains of the Knights of Favonius.

Albedo had fallen asleep in Jean's chair, which he'd moved to the side of Sucrose's bed. The fading moonlight trickled into the tent, casting a pale shadow across Albedo's face. Sucrose watched him -- his body moving as he took in breath after breath, his eyelids fluttering as he moved through dreams, his hair falling over his eyes, striping his face.

Sucrose took a deep breath and reminded herself of all that she'd read in Rhinedottir's journal of Albedo. She reached out and gently brushed a few strands of his hair out of his eyes in a fond gesture. Sucrose continued to gaze at Albedo's sleeping form for a long while before noticing beads of sweat forming on his face.

He was emitting quiet noises of . . . pain. Albedo was twitching and clawing at the arms of the chair, his eyebrows furrowed. When Sucrose shook him awake, he jumped halfway across Teyvat in fear.

"Sucrose, w-what- Archons- Holy-" he spluttered, wiping his brow and sitting upright in his chair. "Are you okay? Did . . . I . . . were you hurt?"

Sucrose raised her eyebrows and Albedo looked at her, panic and confusion burning in his gaze.

He ran a hand through his hair and gave a shaky breath. "Archons, it felt so real," he breathed, a tear tracing down his cheek. "Everything was dark and- You were . . . dying and-"

Sucrose covered his mouth with her hand, shutting him up. "You don't need to tell me," she said quietly, removing her hand. In truth, Sucrose knew exactly what he'd dreamed of -- Durin, and the connection with the magical beast that Albedo had.

Albedo nodded unsteadily. "Can you just . . . hold me . . . please?"

Sucrose felt her cheeks heat, but she nodded and wrapped her arms around him. He pressed his head to her chest and sniffled.

"I'll always be here for you," Sucrose heard herself whispering to him, almost as if she had no control over it, almost as if someone were squeezing the truth out of her. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah," Albedo mumbled. "I'm really sorry, by the way, if what . . . what I told you the other day at the lab made you . . . uncomfortable."

"Ah." Sucrose blushed even deeper and absentmindedly ran a hand through Albedo's hair. That moment seemed decades in the past. The ongoing battle made everything else seem insignificant.

Sucrose's head was spinning. She didn't know how to respond to . . . whatever was going on between them. She needed time to get her feelings figured out, to get what she read in the notebook figured out.

"I-I'm flattered," Sucrose began. "But can you just give me time? Time to . . . time to process everything?"

Albedo tore away suddenly and stood up. He tucked a strand of hair behind his ears. "Right, yes, of course," he said anxiously. "I'll go, Jean probably needs me, I'll be ba-"

"Albedo." Sucrose looked at him sternly, reaching out for his hand. Given his anxious state, she was surprised that he didn't pull his cold fingers away from hers. "And you say I ramble."

Albedo couldn't help cracking a smile, but he avoided Sucrose's gaze.

"You don't need to go," Sucrose mumbled shyly, her face red.

Albedo sucked in a sharp breath, but inched closer and closer to Sucrose, his fingers wrapping tighter and tighter around hers with every passing breath.

Sucrose's eyes widened with the realization of how close their faces were to one another. "Hey," she breathed awkwardly, shifting her weight from foot to foot.