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Albedo had not felt like himself for the past several weeks. He was known for drifting between different ideas before giving up on them entirely, but he had been unable to finish a single experiment. On the other hand, Sucrose and Timaeus had finished several, and being outdone by his assistants—well, that just didn’t seem right. Of course, Albedo had a nagging suspicion about the cause behind his restlessness. She had honey-blonde hair and matching eyes that shone with wonder each time she discovered something new amidst their trips around Dragonspine. She also had an annoying pixie following her everywhere, but the traveler was able to rein in her companion’s actions, so Albedo didn’t mind it too much. He hadn’t expected to see Lumine much after first encountering her and asking for her assistance regarding the Cryo Regisvine that had unexpectedly come back to life.
Every thought of her was fleeting, and yet...
“Albedo?”
Speak of the devil.
The alchemist looked up from his workbench where a dozen bottles that contained elemental dust had been strewn about heedlessly and towards the cavern’s mouth where two silhouettes lingered. He sighed, wiping off his hands with an old rag, before heading towards his expected visitors.
Albedo’s first mistake was letting others know where to find him. Initially, it didn’t bother him, because no one was foolish enough to brave the dangers of Dragonspine just so that they could have a quick chat with the alchemist. There were some researchers who would do that, however they typically lacked the spirit and gear needed to traverse the frigid mountains and quickly gave up.
Lumine, however... well.
This was her fifth visit that week. Albedo had no idea how she could have so much spare time on her hands. Sure, her companion had once mentioned off-handedly how Lumine had endless amounts of time, but for the traveler to spend it toeing with death perplexed him. If he were in her position, he would try to be more productive. Then again, he probably had more free time than she did and had nothing to show for it, so perhaps it wasn’t as odd as he initially believed.
“Lumine,” he said, offering her a smile. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Sorry for barging in,” she replied sheepishly, before noticing the amusement on his face. “...again.”
“It’s quite alright, I don’t mind.” He didn’t, although maybe he should, considering the lack of work he had accomplished over the past month. He gestured for the two to enter and proceeded to return to his unfinished work. He had been trying to create life out of elemental dust, but so far all of his attempts were interrupted by his lack of interest.
Lumine’s gaze slid over to the experiment, curiosity vibrant in her golden irises. “What are you doing today?” She asked, standing next to him.
“Same as yesterday,” the alchemist replied.
“That’s boring!” Paimon said, her loud tone invading his momentary peace. “When are you going to do something interesting?”
“Like?”
“Well, like… uh…” the pixie leaned towards the traveler, attempting to whisper. “Any ideas?”
Lumine thought for a moment, before addressing Albedo. “Well, I’ve personally been curious about those icy-looking lawachurls. Like, how do they regenerate their shields, you know?” She shrugged sheepishly. “I’m not sure if that’s what you’re looking for, but…”
Paimon smacked her shoulder. “You were supposed to tell Paimon that; not him!” the pixie declared adamantly.
The traveler shrugged. “He could hear you anyway. You’re very loud, you know?”
“Paimon is not loud!”
Albedo sighed, as they continued to bicker, realizing that there was no point in trying to continue anything. It wasn’t going to get him anywhere, after all. “You know, since you’re here, I wouldn’t mind hearing about your adventures so far,” he said, his voice interrupting the childish argument.
“Sure!” Lumine agreed quickly, her eyes lighting up. “Will they help with anything?”
“Maybe. I guess we’ll find out,” the alchemist replied. Truthfully, he just wanted the two companions to stop threatening each other. That, and he also liked hearing her voice.
The next few hours consisted of Lumine animatedly retelling her success in battle against Dvalin, with Albedo listening intently, his sketchbook in his hands. He told her it was to write down anything that caught his interest, but secretly he was taking the opportunity to sketch her, admiring the excitement in her eyes. Paimon was also taking an opportunity, and was making many futile attempts to examine Albedo’s dust that he had left out on his workbench. Of course, before Paimon was able to get close, Lumine would swat at the pixie, and drag her away.
Lumine finished up her tale as Albedo added a few finishing touches to his drawing. “Well, I’d best be on my way if I want to make it out of here before nightfall,” the traveler said, stopping another of Paimon’s attempts to mess with a bottle of elemental dust.
Inwardly, Albedo felt disappointed, but he didn’t bother to show the emotion on his face. He knew the traveler’s visit would end, as they always did, but he had grown accustomed to her presence. Not to mention she had thrown around several intriguing ideas he thought would be interesting to research next. He didn’t tell her that, of course.
He looked up, prepared to offer a good-bye, before his eyes slid past the traveler and to the scenery outside of the cavern. “If you’d like to risk it, go ahead,” Albedo said with a knowing grin. Noting Lumine’s confusion, he gestured to the storm that had begun outside. “The weather doesn’t seem too accommodating.”
“Oh.” Lumine followed his gaze, taking a look at the storm herself, a thoughtful expression crossing her face.
“That’s alright! We have plenty of warming bottles, so we should be fine! Besides, Paimon was promised some sticky honey roast once we made it back to Monstadt today!” The pixie chirped, throwing in her opinion.
“I don’t know, Paimon…” Lumine answered with a tight-lipped frown.
Albedo’s heart jumped at her hesitation. He felt bad that her later plans were ruined, but he didn’t mind having her company for a little longer. He was a little selfish, he supposed.
“Maybe it would be best if you stay for the night,” the alchemist offered, taking another look at the worsening storm. “Don’t want to risk you freezing to death.”
“Is this some sort of trick to force Lumi to drink another one of your experiments?” Paimon asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at the alchemist.
He chuckled, finding the overprotectiveness the pixie held for Lumine endearing. “Of course not,” he replied, taking no offense at the accusation. “If I wanted that, I’m sure I could just ask and she’d do it.”
“That’s true, she is a bit gullible…” Paimon said, trailing off as she eyed the blonde beside her.
“I’m right here,” Lumine interjected with a pout. “Besides, you’d never do anything to me.”
Don’t be so sure, Albedo thought, but didn’t say, unsure how she would take the response. “Well, it would be a shame if I lost a valuable test subject,” he said instead, admiring the way Lumine’s eyes narrowed at being referred to as a ‘test subject’. It was oddly cute, in a way. Of course, what he was really worried about was losing her, but he didn’t dare voice that aloud. There was something about her that drew him towards her, yet no matter how many times he tried to figure it out, he couldn’t comprehend why. Maybe it was because she was an enigma; she was so easy to read, so trusting, yet he knew close to nothing about her.
“We’ll stay,” Lumine decided alongside a chorus of disbelieving shouts from Paimon. Turning her attention to her companion, she narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“My sticky honey roast!” The pixie complained, floating to the ground with a huff.
Lumine let out a heavy sigh. “Sorry,” she offered to Albedo, before readdressing Paimon. “I can make some for you. It doesn’t need to come from Monstadt.”
“Oh, really?” Paimon flew back up, her eyes shiny with gratitude. “Wow, thanks! Lumi really is the best!”
“Yeah, whatever,” the traveler said. She looked at Albedo again. “Is that okay?”
“I don’t have a problem with it,” he responded. “Although I probably won’t be having a bite. I don’t have a very strong appetite.”
“What? Not even a bite?” Lumine asked, bewildered.
“No, thank you.”
“But it’s my cooking! You don’t get that everyday!”
Albedo let out a sigh as she continued to pester him. “Okay, I’ll have a bite,” he began, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “On one condition.”
Lumine paused, eyeing him warily. “And that condition is..?”
The alchemist nodded to her hair. “I want to look at the flower you wear. I’ve never seen it before.”
A moment paused as Lumine considered her options. Albedo was sure she would reconsider. The two were closer to being strangers than best friends, after all, so there was no way she would—
“Okay, it’s a deal.”
No, he should’ve expected that. She really was gullible.
She gave him a grin, reaching into her hair and carefully pulling out the flower that was typically tucked by her ear. “Remember—at least a bite,” she said, placing the flower in his palm. “Now, where’s the cooking pot?”
---
Albedo had to confess, her cooking was delightful. But he hadn’t lied earlier—he really did have a small appetite. He took a few bites of Lumine’s proudly-made masterpiece before handing it off to Paimon, much to the traveler's disdain.
“That was not a bite!” She objected with a frown.
“You’re right,” Albedo replied, standing, “it was three.”
She did not have a comeback for that.
The group finished up their meal, with Paimon asking for more and more, until the traveler adamantly refused her requests.
“Lumi,” the pixie whined, tugging on her arm. “I’m so hungry!”
“You know, sometimes I wonder if there’s like… more than just you, Paimon. I’m bigger than you, but you manage to eat so much!”
“Paimon is just gifted,” her companion remarked.
Lumine scoffed. “Yeah, gifted at stealing my mora.”
Before Paimon could respond, Albedo decided to interject with his own opinion. “Perhaps her proportions are different,” he said, staring down the pixie. “Maybe she’s just… seventy percent stomach.”
Lumine stifled a laugh while Paimon glared at the alchemist. “Hey, that’s rude! You’re just jealous you don’t have an appetite like me!”
“Sure,” Albedo remarked. “But with a few experiments, I’m sure we could figure it out—”
“No!” Paimon screamed, hiding behind Lumine. “You are not running tests on Paimon!”
“If you insist,” Albedo replied with a dramatic sigh. Truthfully, he was just getting her back for all of the mischief she had been causing earlier.
Lumine let out a laugh at the interaction before turning towards the alchemist. “Are you done with the flower, then?”
He nodded. “You can have it back. In the end, I just sketched it. I wouldn’t want to experiment on something irreplaceable.”
“Oh!” She clapped her hands together. “Can I see?”
“Of course,” Albedo replied, leading her towards his workbench. He had ripped out a piece of paper from his sketchbook to draw on to hide his earlier drawings of her, and held it out to her. He gestured at the flower that was poised on the table. “It’s unique,” he offered, not quite sure how to feel about the exquisite flower.
“It is,” she said softly, looking back and forth between the real flower and the sketch that she held in her hands.
“Paimon wants to see, too!” The pixie hollered, quickly floating towards the two.
Truthfully, Albedo should’ve seen this coming, and should’ve been better prepared. On her way, the pixie managed to topple a bottle of elemental dust, finally achieving her initial goal. Of course, the alchemist doubted Paimon had expected the outcome. The dust she had knocked over was filled with the pyro element, and, of course, it had fallen across Lumine’s exquisite flower. The moment the dust touched the flower, its petals began to burn.
Lumine’s expression dampened quickly at the sight. “Oh… oh, no, no, no,” she muttered, aghast, reaching towards it.
Albedo was quicker. He plucked the flower from the mess, releasing a small ow as the flame licked at his hands, burning them. With a touch of anemo, Lumine managed to rid the flower of the fire, and clutched it delicately in her hands. Albedo shook his burnt hand, before grabbing for another bottle of elemental dust—hydro, this time, to counteract the pyro. He grimaced at the aftermath, his workbench even messier than it had been. He moved the remaining bottles of elemental dust and tried to wipe up the mess with the rag. He was able to clean the majority of it up, but he didn’t have the necessary materials to finish up the job. Oh well; it was just a workbench.
Lumine’s flower was another matter.
The alchemist took a look at the traveler, who was looking at the flower with a pained expression. Paimon was a few feet away, looking like she wanted to say something, but unsure about what. “Lumi, Paimon is—well, Paimon didn’t mean—”
Lumine shook a hand at the pixies’s attempt to apologize. “It’s okay,” she said half-heartedly. “I know you didn’t mean to.”
Albedo sighed. He didn’t like the expression she was making—he was much more accustomed to her cheerful nature, looking like she didn’t have a care in the world even though he was sure she did. He reached for his sketch that was laying forgotten on the ground, replaced with the real flower in the traveler’s hands. “Give me a second,” he said, turning back to his workbench. He felt her eyes trained on the back of his head as he finished up the drawing, adding color to the sketch with a bit of paint and dust. He took another look at the drawing, before showing it to Lumine, her face hopeful. “Does this look like it?”
She nodded. “Pretty much a perfect replica.”
“Thanks.” Albedo laid the paper back on his bench before staring at it for a moment. He wasn’t the biggest fan of this technique since it existed to defy the natural rules of the world, and, well, life itself. Nevertheless, it had been a while since he had done it, and the flower was unique. He doubted such a design existed in all of Teyvat. Taking a small breath, he did what he did best—he made a new one for her.
Lumine gaped at the flower he held in his hands. “Oh, wow,” she murmured, and he took pride in the expression she made, her eyes wide in shock. “Thank you.”
“I can’t promise it’ll last forever, so at the very least, be careful with it,” Albedo ordered, handing the flower over to its proper owner. “Let me know how long it lasts.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but was quickly interrupted by her companion. “That was so cool!” The pixie declared. She looked at Lumine, unable to keep direct eye contact. “Paimon really is sorry, Lumi,” she began, before turning her attention to Albedo. “And sorry to you, too, Mr. Chalk Prince! How much of that stuff did Paimon ruin? Paimon can easily collect more!”
Albedo chuckled at her enthusiasm. “That’s alright, I have some left. Besides, no offense, but I don’t think that’s a task you’re capable of. You can’t wield a sword.”
“Well, yes, but…” the pixie paused, thinking. It must have hurt. “Paimon can hit them with her fists!” She demonstrated by flailing her hands around, Lumine taking a few steps away from her companion. “Paimon is very strong!”
“Of course,” the alchemist replied.
Paimon sensed the disbelief in his tone. “You don’t believe Paimon, do you?”
“Of course I do,” he lied. Of course he didn’t. “Well, it’s late. Why don’t we sleep? I don’t think any disasters can happen when you’re unconscious.” He looked pointedly at Paimon, who looked away guiltily, before slipping into her pocket dimension. Albedo was rather curious how that worked. Another time, perhaps.
---
Albedo was never the best at sleeping. He often had many ideas slipping through his mind that prevented him from doing so. Right as his eyes began to close and sleep began to envelop him, his eyes shot back open. He must’ve heard something, but after listening to nothing but the breathing of himself and Lumine, he was determined he had imagined it. He closed his eyes again, lulled to sleep as he felt content in the cavern, paying no mind to the feeling of the ground beneath him (he had offered his blankets to Lumine and had explained how saying no was not a valid response). He was on the cusp of unconsciousness before he was awoken again by something. He twitched, a little bothered, before flopping onto his other side and facing the traveler. He sighed, prepared to look around the cavern to find the source of the noise before realizing where it was coming from.
Lumine was crying.
He hadn’t noticed it initially, but after listening closely, he could hear her muffled sobs from beside him. The alchemist shifted into an upright position, his gaze glued to the back of the blonde’s head as her cries quieted. She probably heard his shuffling. After a moment of hesitation—should he bother her? Some people preferred to deal with their emotions privately, and Albedo wasn’t sure what she preferred—he nudged her shoulder. “Lumine?”
She offered no response, and Albedo shrugged, deciding it would be best to forget about the incident. Right before he gave up on the notion of consoling her, he noticed the traveler shift ever so slightly. Slowly, she turned on her back until she faced him. Tears streamed down her face, a mismatched frown expressing her misery alongside bright eyes. Albedo frowned, realizing this was the second time he had seen such a look on her face. “Did I wake you?” She asked, her voice a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
Albedo responded with a gentle smile, leaning forward to carefully wipe away her tears. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he responded. “Do you want to talk about it?”
She blinked, the remaining tears spilling down her face, before sitting up in a similar position Albedo was in, shrugging off the blankets that protected her from the cold. “Okay,” she answered, her voice wobbly.
“You don’t have to,” Albedo added, noticing the look of worry in her golden irises. She shook her head, gazing at him. “No, it’s okay, I trust you. Besides, you’ve already seen me like this, so…” she trailed off, an airy laugh replacing her frail voice.
Trust. There she was again, throwing that word around. “I suppose so,” Albedo murmured. He turned to face her, sitting cross-legged, before nodding at her to begin.
Lumine took a moment, looking at the unrelenting storm that was continuing outside. “I was thinking of my brother.” Her voice was so quiet, Albedo was afraid he would blink and miss her speak. He clung onto her words like a lifeline, noting the desperation that flooded out of her lips.
“You have a brother?”
The traveler nodded, a soft smile creeping up her face. Albedo simply stared at her, encaptured by the vulnerability in her expression. “His name is Aether,” she continued. “We’re twins. We were… separated… before coming here.”
By here, Albedo knew she was referring to all of Teyvat. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice mirroring her hushed tone. He was afraid that if he spoke too loud, he would lose this moment, lose her. He studied the way her eyes softened as she mentioned her brother and the way her lips formed a small smile despite her sadness. He couldn’t relate to her situation very well, but the alchemist thought of Klee. He tried to imagine how it would feel if the young girl disappeared. He wouldn’t have anyone to spoil, no one to find making a mess of his alchemy table because she was trying to create some explosives against the Acting Grandmaster’s best wishes. The traveler must’ve felt something similar to this, albeit stronger because she and her brother were related by blood, unlike the relation between Klee and Albedo. He didn’t know the full story behind Aether’s disappearance, but he imagined it wasn’t a pleasant one. “Can you tell me about him?” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could comprehend what he was saying. He looked to Lumine, worried he had said the wrong thing, before realizing that she had been looking at him for a while.
She hummed, leaning back into the ground. “Where to begin,” she whispered thoughtfully, her smile highlighted by the torchlit cavern. “Me and Aether are really similar on the outside. Blonde hair, golden eyes—” she gestured towards her own features as she spoke “—you name it. But our personalities were vastly different. He was very outspoken and always spoke his mind, no matter what.” She paused, a small frown overtaking her features. “Sometimes, he’s a bit too blunt. But I know I can always go to him whenever I need an honest opinion. He also really loves flowers.” Gingerly, she reached out to touch the flower in her hair. Albedo stared for a moment, admiring it—it matched Lumine in terms of beauty and exquisiteness. “He got me this one,” she said, sitting up, placing the flower in her hands.
“Is that why you were so distraught when Paimon ruined it earlier?” He asked, remembering the mortified expression that had covered her face.
She nodded. “It’s very important to me.” She gave him a smile, and he returned the expression, memorizing the look on her face. He would have to remember it so he could recreate it in a sketch later.
“So… flowers, huh?” Albedo offered, prompting her to continue.
She sighed. “Yeah, flowers. Teyvat has some pretty ones. I think he would like the windwheel asters the most.”
“They are lovely,” Albedo agreed, picturing the flowers beneath Windrise, where they were typically found. He preferred cecillias, but he could see the charm. Neither were as pretty as her, though.
“Aether got us flowers and I did his hair,” the traveler continued. “It was always our trade-off.”
“You did his hair?”
“Yes, I…” her voice trailed off as she scrutinized Albedo’s appearance. He flinched away from the sudden attention, his face warming at her intense gaze as he shuffled around awkwardly, pushing the feeling away. “Sorry,” she said, chuckling at his tense posture. “I was just thinking that your hair seems long enough.”
Albedo instinctively reached for his hair, gazing at her curiously. He had forgotten to loosen it before attempting to sleep. He wasn’t typically this forgetful, but then again, he was around Lumine. “Long enough for what?”
She smiled at his reaction, before gesturing at him to turn around. The alchemist ignored the request, opting to continue sitting cross-legged, his shoulders stiff. “Albedo,” Lumine said, a whine in her voice as she leaned towards him. He backed away from her for a moment, not expecting her to be so close. If he tilted his head forward the slightest bit, he could kiss her. He refrained from doing that, of course, deciding to remain still and simply breath beside her. She stared at him for a moment, tilting her head, although Albedo doubted she was thinking the same thing he was. “Albedo,” she repeated, snapping him back to reality. “Turn around.”
He blinked. “No.”
“Why not?” Her lips curved into a smile. “What happened to trusting each other?”
“I never said I trusted you,” the alchemist replied adamantly, but turned around nevertheless. A second later he felt her hands in his hair and this time he couldn’t prevent the faint blush that creeped up his neck. “What are you doing?” He asked, shifting his head to the side.
“Stay still,” Lumine ordered. “I’m doing your hair like I did Aether’s. I always put his hair into a braid. I’ve gotten quite good at it, actually—!” Her voice was interrupted by a confused hum. Albedo felt her tug at his hair.
He grimaced. “You could stand to be a little nicer,” he snapped, but his tone fell on deaf ears.
“Sorry,” Lumine said, offering a half-assed apology. Her next words were cut off with an annoyed groan. “What in the world did you do with your hair? How did you get like this in the first place?”
“Years of practice,” he replied. “Do you need help?” Albedo decided not to roam on the fact that he had basically just given her permission to do archon-knows-what with his hair. It was probably worse considering he had slept on it, but knowing Lumine, she would refuse his assistance.
“No, I got it,” she said. He smiled, feeling elated that he was able to guess her reaction. Lumine wasn’t the type of person to simply give up. She would—as she was doing right now—continue to try until she reached a solution. Albedo typically found this endearing, but when the solution involved pulling his hair several times, he found he wasn’t as charmed. There was another sharp tug and the alchemist felt his hair loosen up, the strands falling loosely to his shoulders. Lumine weaved her fingers through his hair and Albedo couldn’t help but twitch as her cold hands grazed across his skin. “Your hair is soft,” the traveler murmured as she continued her work.
“Thank you..?” Albedo wasn’t sure if what she said counted as a compliment or, but he took the words to heart anyway.
She laughed again, the sound warming Albedo up as if he had just lit a torch in the midst of a Dragonspine storm. “You’re welcome,” she chirped, her fingers lingering on the nape of his neck every now and then. Albedo no longer flinched at her touch, deciding to enjoy the moment instead. The alchemist was still rather tired and found himself zoning out a bit, before snapping back to reality. At this point, he was sure that he probably wouldn’t be getting much sleep that night, but he decided not to dwell on it. Instead, he thought of Lumine. The way her fingers slid through his hair was oddly relaxing. No one had ever messed with his hair before, nevermind braiding it. Whenever Albedo watched Klee, he was usually the hairdresser between the two. He would normally object, but since this made Lumine happy, he decided not to.
(And, truthfully, he didn’t mind nearly as much as he thought he would.)
He missed her touch when she was done.
“Your hair is too short,” she huffed indignantly from behind him. “Aether’s braid was longer.”
“You couldn’t tell that just by looking at it?” Albedo asked mockingly, shifting his head and feeling the strain from whatever she had done to it. Truthfully, he was afraid to find out. Lumine spoke in confidence about how skilled she was, but the alchemist couldn’t help but hold a little bit of doubt.
“Oh, shut up,” Lumine replied as the alchemist stifled a chuckle at her remark. “Not everyone is as smart as you, Mr. Chalk Prince.”
“Of course, my apologies,” he responded, attempting to be serious. It didn’t work and he found himself letting out a loose string of laughter.
“Whatever,” she declared, lightly prodding his back, her light-hearted tone betraying her attempt at being exasperated. “It’s good enough.”
Albedo shifted around until he was facing the traveler again. He reached up to touch his hair, feeling a bit self-conscious, before deciding that there was no point. The alchemist was aware that he was handsome. He had heard several variations of the compliment from Lisa each time he visited her library in hopes that she would finally quit.
(Of course, that had yet to happen.)
Besides, it was Lumine’s handiwork, after all, so he really had no reason to feel embarrassed. “Your turn. Turn around,” he ordered, grabbing her shoulder and whisking her around.
“What—!”
“It’s only fair, Lumine,” he said, holding out her name for a second longer than necessary, appreciating the way it sounded.
She was quiet for a moment before finally accepting the situation she was in. “Okay,” she conceded, “but I don’t have anything to tie my hair with.”
“That’s fine, I’m sure I can find something.” Albedo stood up, glancing in the direction of his alchemy workbench. He knelt down and began examining the two containers that were used earlier, making sure not to hurt himself on any pieces of glass. Finally, he spotted a jar with a thick, black ribbon around the lid. He untied the fabric and hurried back to his previous position, sitting behind the traveler. He didn’t have nearly as much work to do as Lumine had to do since her hair wasn’t initially tied up. Instead, he opted to run his hands through her hair, searching for any knots he could untangle. He caught a rather nasty one and, with a knowing smile, yanked. Lumine let out a sharp ow before following his pull, leaning back into him.
“Oh. Whoops,” he offered nonchalantly, taking the opportunity to lean into her warmth and stare at the golden hue of her eyes as she looked up at him, disgruntled.
“Oh. Whoops,” she mocked, leaning back into her sitting position. “That hurt. Can’t you be more nice?”
“You know, I think I said something rather similar to you, earlier. I’d say we’re even.”
She huffed in response, but didn’t say anything, so Albedo continued working his way through the knots in her hair, deciding not to pull as much. After running his hand through her hair a few more times to make sure he had gotten all of them (and, truthfully, to just feel his fingers slide through her hair), he scooped up her hair into his hands, moving the strands toward the left of her head. Lumine’s hair was noticeably short—shorter than his—so he had to be careful that he didn’t lose any of it. He used the ribbon he had grabbed earlier and looped it around her hair until it wasn’t tight enough to hurt, but tight enough that it wouldn’t slip loose with a shake of her head.
“Are you done?” She asked, trying to look at him from over her shoulder. “Not quite,” he responded. “May I see your flower?”
She nodded, dropping it into his open palm. Albedo stared at it for a moment, before gingerly clipping it onto the ribbon. He turned her around, examining his work, before nodding approvingly. “Okay, done.”
She smiled, and Albedo noticed the light blush that dusted her features. “How do I look?”
“Well…” he paused, taking in her appearance. Whether she was searching for a compliment or a truth, Albedo didn’t feel obligated to offer either. He didn’t bother fixating his attention on her hair, already comfortable with what he had done with it. Instead, he focused on her expression. Her eyes were still a little red, stained with the aftermath of when she had been crying a few moments prior, and her lips were set in a fond smile. “How do you think you look?”
She frowned, clearly unsatisfied with the answer he had given. “I don’t know, that’s why I asked you! I don’t see a mirror around to look at.” She gestured around dramatically, showing off the obvious absence of the previously mentioned item.
“Well,” Albedo hummed, leaning towards her. “I think you look beautiful.” Yet again, Albedo was in the position where if he tilted his head forward a bit, he could kiss her. Except this time, he did. It broke as quickly as it started. Albedo glanced at her, examining his expression. Her eyes were wide and she appeared startled, a hand covering her face. She hadn’t ran away from him, though, so maybe that was a good sign.
“Oh,” she squeaked, before shutting her mouth closed after hearing the high pitch of her voice. She cleared her throat. “That was…”
Albedo waited for her to finish the sentence, but she didn’t. “Sorry,” he said, looking away. “I probably shouldn’t have done that.”
He made a move to get up, but before he could, she had grabbed his jacket, providing just enough force to keep him where he was. “Wait,” she said, her voice soft as she looked up at him. She was close to giving him direct eye contact, but Albedo could see that she was looking a bit off to the side. “If you leave now, things will be awkward,” she continued. “I don’t want that.”
Albedo wasn’t sure how to answer, so he didn’t. He decided to listen to her and sat back down in front of her. They stared at each other for a moment.
After what felt like centuries of silence, Lumine’s voice finally broke the silence. “Why did you do that?” She asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious.
A coy smile found its way up Albedo’s face. “Well, when someone likes someone else, they—”
“Okay, okay, stupid question.” She paused, before looking away, fiddling with her fingers for a moment, before abruptly looking back at him. “So are you trying to say that… you like me?”
Albedo frowned. “I think so?”
“You think so? Do you just randomly kiss people, then?”
He smiled a bit at her remark. “No, you’re right. I like you, Lumine.”
She opened and closed her mouth several times, her face flushed.
“What? Too much?” He asked, a small smirk donning his features.
“Too blunt,” she replied with a pout, finally able to string along a coherent thought. “You’re similar to Aether in that way, I guess.”
“Thanks, I think.” He hadn’t paid it any mind a few moments prior, but her hands were still gripping his jacket. He leaned in a second time, noting how she followed suit, her eyes closed. He kissed her again, making sure not to break it off as quickly as he had the first time. She may not have said it aloud, but Albedo was confident that his feelings were reciprocated.
Lumine really did look beautiful. She would make a lovely portrait.