Core

Leaving

Giotto shifted and opened his eyes slowly. Blinking away the ghost tear, he stared at Caelum, who was still unconscious. He squeezed the hand he was holding, smiling when Caelum, as though on reflex, squeezed back. He sat up and stifled a yawn, using his other hand to rub his neck.

A mug filled with warm water was shoved under his nose, making him jerk back in shock. He looked up and blinked at Alaude, who gave him a pointed look. Shaking his head, he chuckled and took the mug carefully. "Thank you."

Alaude grunted in reply as he sat down at the side of the bed, his gaze trained on the unconscious man. For a brief moment, none of them spoke. In that brief moment, Giotto could see how worn out the man was. Back slumped instead of straight like it usually was, shoulders sagged. The usual cold facade of his had shed, leaving a look that Giotto had only seen it once.

The man was exhausted, because of concern towards the ginger or what, Giotto didn't know. (He could tell it was the former.) It was refreshing, however, to see Alaude like that.

"He's important to you, isn't he?"

Alaude gave him a withering look that anyone would see as the look of displeasure, but Giotto wasn't just anyone, no. To Giotto, it was the look of exasperation and resignation, yet it was also the look of fondness and affection. An affection that wasn't directed to Giotto but to Caelum.

Giotto smiled to himself. "I can see why." Although he had only just met Caelum, it felt like he had known him for years. It was one of the perks of harmonization, but it was different from the usual as well. It was like Caelum was a part of him that had been taken away years and years ago until he had forgotten of his lost.

A dear and precious family of his, if not by blood, by their flames.

Alaude huffed. (If he knew about what Giotto was thinking, he said nothing about it.) "He's troublesome."

"And yet, you still care about this troublesome man more than you would admit." Alaude didn't deny it. There was no point in denying the truth. Ever since three years ago, he had developed an affection towards the ginger without he himself knowing. He had never found the reason to it, and he doubt he would find it in the near future. (No, not the near future. Perhaps an idea, but not truly.)

Even so, he won't have it any other way.

It doesn't mean he appreciate anyone telling him about it, however.

Alaude narrowed his eyes at Giotto, who shrugged with an amused smile on his lips.

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When Caelum came to it, he was alone in Alaude's room. It took him a full minute to remember what happen and register it completely. It was surreal as well. His mind was clearer than before, and he felt at peace, like nothing has ever happen. He was aware it did happen, but it didn't feel like it. He actually felt like himself again.

One of the effects from, what was that again? Right. Harmonization. Probably.

Now that he knew of the Flames and all, he was hyper-aware of the feeling in him. The peaceful hum of what he thought was his flames with Giotto's lingering ones warmed his heart. Something that he didn't know he could feel again after all that. (He had half the mind of being a loner for the rest of his last, if he wasn't dead yet. Alone without anyone by his side.)

He felt, contented, which was strange since he had practically did nothing but breaking down every waking moment until then.

He mused at that thought as he stood from the bed, albeit clumsily. He stood still for a moment, letting the dizziness slide before moving to the door. Just as he reached to open it, the door swung open itself. He jerked and pulled his hand back, blinking at Alaude, who in turn, blinked back.