Against The Cold ~ Alberose

Chapter 5

"Damn, it's cold," Timaeus complained, rubbing his hands together.

It was the next morning, and Sucrose's invention had worked like a charm -- the pot was just as hot as it'd been the night before.

Sucrose looked up as Albedo walked over to her. She blushed, remembering their absolutely ridiculous behavior the night before, and the embarrassment of waking up with Albedo burying into Sucrose's neck, her arm tucked around his waist and laying against him.

Thank Barbatos that Timaeus hadn't woken up yet, or the pair would never hear the end of it.

Albedo refused to meet Sucrose's gaze and instead bent down over their supplies and started packing up.

"Here, I-" Sucrose started but was shoved aside by Timaeus yet again. She gritted her teeth. It was all she could do to suppress the eye roll that was threatening to show off Sucrose's stubborn side.

"No, let me help," Timaeys declared, moving in to help Albedo. "You've already done enough."

Sucrose blushed heavily, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. He can't have known, right? she thought to herself in panic. He couldn't have seen us at all. No one did.

Sucrose, lost in her own thoughts, totally missed Albedo calling her name. As soon as she realized it she jumped up, apologizing furiously.

Albedo sighed softly. "Sucrose, it's alright. Don't be so sorry all the time."

Sucrose shrugged, nearly flinching at the note of impatience in Albedo's voice. "Right then," Albedo said, trying to sling Sucrose's pack over his shoulder, then wincing and gasping furiously after realizing it still hadn't healed yet.

"Here, let me take it," Sucrose said, grabbing her bag from Albedo.

The three alchemists marched out of the cave, leaving the odd red orb behind. Oddly enough, Sucrose noted, that it seemed to lose its power as soon as the Abyss mage left its proximity. Her natural curiosity took her mind away from her as she thought of all the biological factors possible for such an occurrence.

Suddenly she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. "Sorry to disturb you," Albedo mumbled, coming up behind his assistant.

"No, no, not disturbing. I was just thinking, Mister Albedo." Sucrose turned to look at him, again confused when he wouldn't meet her amber gaze.

"Please, Sucrose, for the love of all that is holy, stop calling me mister," Albedo cried out exasperatedly, causing Sucrose to flinch. He hardly ever spoke that loudly, and Sucrose wasn't used to hearing that volume from him.

"Ah, sorry, again," he said shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sucrose shrugged and adjusted her black-framed glasses. "It's fine," she mumbled distractedly.

"So," Albedo ventured, cautiously letting his fingertips brush past Sucrose's. "About, um, last night."

"Ah," was all Sucrose could manage, feeling a persistent blush stick to her face. "Right, I'm sorry, Albedo, I . . . ." Sucrose didn't know how to finish her sentence. For some odd reason, she didn't feel bad at all. Instead, she would give everything up just to be able to sit in that cave with Albedo again, fingers grazing each other and then latching together so that they were gripping each others' hands, every second inching closer and closer to one another's bodies, not daring to take a breath to disturb the terrifying joy they'd both felt.

"Why are you sorry?" Albedo said, still finding the tips of his boots fascinating and not looking at Sucrose.

Sucrose cleared her throat and bundled her blue coat tighter around herself. "It was out of line for me to act like that," she conceded at last, slowly pulling her fingertips away from Albedo's. "I am but an assistant to you, and that is the way it should be."