Chapter Text
When it came to profound things like writing, Sucrose’s anxieties melt away as if they have never been there. Long gone is the stuttering mess who cannot form coherent sentences when the barista asks a different question from the ones she’s been preparing for. She’s a lot more confident and more grounded when faced with things she’s seriously passionate about. That’s what Albedo had always admired about her, a trait of hers he finds admirable harboring the same interests as her. But, right now, it was his biggest enemy. With her utter focus on her craft, she often doesn’t even process how absurd she’s become when engrossed.
“We should date, Mister Albedo.”
“Sucrose, do you even hear yourself right now?” Albedo furrowed his brows at the girl before him, closing the book he picked up from the shelf.
“It isn’t a bad idea, is it? It’s only for two weeks. I need references for my book and I’m sure with your help, I’d be able to write romance novels with ease. Additionally, the relationship need not be real, I only need to know how to comprehensively describe how feelings are formed for a natural development in my story.” Sucrose continues typing on her laptop, nonchalant about her proposition.
Albedo sits down in the chair in front of her, glancing around the neighboring tables in the library if they could hear her right now. He stared at her face and the reflection of the screen in her glasses; of course, what illuminated was a document and her continuous writing. He smiled and leaned forward. “Alright, we could give it a try.”
Sucrose’s attention tore away from her screen and up to his face, smiling. “Fantastic! We start as early as tomorrow!”
Albedo chuckled and nodded, watching her continue typing away on her laptop. Things surely haven't changed from when they were back in college. Sucrose had always been dense when it came to matters that didn’t concern her. Though she’s shy and overcomplicates a simple social interaction, when it came to matters she was sure she had already reached the conclusion to, she no longer tramples back. Right now, their relationship with each other was nothing more than just good friends from college who pursued their intertwined interest; writing.
Perhaps, their little experiment for her new novel would add a variable that would differ from the current conclusion.
He opened the book he picked up earlier and started sketching the illustrations inside the book. This was how it has always been between the two of them since, minus Timeaus who’s still busy studying college. The two met in a biochemistry class and were paired together for most of the activities because of their high capabilities in the subject. They started out as mere acquaintances that simply worked on school activities together to now have their leisurely library visits as means of inspiration for the books they’re writing.
Albedo does a stroke, his mouth curling up in a small smile as he reminisces about the first time he grew interested in Sucrose.
The first time they were paired for class, Sucrose didn’t even show up for that meeting. He was understandably confused, of course, knowing she’s one of the top students of the class and seeing her blatantly skip on one rubbed him off the wrong way. But, after becoming closer with her through their experiments, Sucrose eventually confessed she didn’t come to school that day because she was too shy to face him. He laughed at how silly she was. His reaction relieved her. That’s how it has always been. Albedo found her foibles interesting, Sucrose found comfort in him.
He looked up from his sketch and glanced at a hyper-focused Sucrose. Seeing her dedication to her work, you would never have guessed she could barely contort sentences to people she’s not used to talking to. His eyes trailed from the reflection of the screen on her glasses to her naturally rosy cheeks he always found adorable and-
“Yes, Mister Albedo?”
Albedo snaps out of his trance and blinks a few times.
“Sorry, I was in a daze.”
“Was there something in my face that made you stare?” She rubs her cheeks while leaning into the laptop to see her reflection.
“No, no. I was just thinking. About earlier.” He watches her fumble in front of her laptop trying to spot anything in her face but he closes her laptop down on the table. Sucrose tries to open her laptop but Albedo holds it down. With a gloomy face, Sucrose gives up and looks up at him to finally talk.
“There’s not much to talk about. All we need to do is test every common event a normal relationship goes through and experiencing them firsthand will help me with detailing them in my book.”
“Hold on, why do you so badly need romance in your novels? Aren’t you a fantasy novel writer?”
“Exactly!” Sucrose finally huffs to complain. “The publishers want me to release a romance novel due to the high demand of romance novels in the industry. However, my concern is that I am incapable of writing such as I’ve never exactly been romantically interested in anyone nor anything aside from research and writing.”
“Mm. I understand now.” Albedo nods. “Knowing you, it would be hard for you to ask other acquaintances of yours for such a huge favor, a very sensitive one at that.”
“It doesn’t have to be if the relationship of both parties has already been decided. After all, there is nothing more to conclude if all the realms of the hypothesis have been explored.”
Albedo raises a brow. “And what’s the conclusion of our relationship, might I ask?”
Sucrose averted his gaze and looked back down at her laptop to answer. “Simply old friends to colleagues. Nothing more to it than that.” Something in Albedo internally recoils but he couldn’t tell what it was. There was a hint of disappointment etched on his face as Sucrose managed to finally open her laptop from his grip. Sucrose glances up at him. “Is it not true, Mister Albedo? You look grim.”
Albedo shakes his head and continues their research jargon for basic human conversations. It was an odd quirk they both shared and found amusing. “A conclusion can change if new variables are added to the hypothesis, right.”
“It can. Why?” She again does not look up at him while talking, completely focused on the story she’s writing.
“If romantic feelings arose between us from our little arrangement, would that change your conclusion of our relationship?” Albedo watches her face contort in a more puzzled expression than a surprised one.
“I suppose so.” Albedo beams– “But, that’s impossible. I am only your assistant, and our writing genres contradict each other. It would be quite ironic.” She laughs a little to herself. Albedo could only stare at her from his failed attempts.
She really hasn’t changed. It was quite comforting really. With the ever-changing world before him, he was glad she was the one constant thing in his life, a person he shares his oddities with. A person as disinterested in relationships as him (thus her cluelessness to that sort) and someone he can trust when it comes to their studies. Though she is frustratingly stubborn when it comes to writing and biochemistry, which he cannot deny. Knowing Sucrose, countering her statements with compliments would only lead to nowhere, the girl hates interaction but hates being complimented even more. With all these in mind, he was still boggled about how Sucrose felt towards their relationship. He had never cared about how others would see his with theirs, so why is he bothered that after years of connection with the green-haired girl, she still only viewed them as plain friends?
Albedo could only stand up from his seat and returned the book he borrowed for his sketches. Sucrose side-glanced at him before closing her laptop and preparing to leave as well. Once returning to the table, Albedo took her laptop bag from her and held it on his shoulder. “I’ll carry it for you. Consider this the start of our arrangement.”
Sucrose nodded. “I’ll have to take note of that for my novel. Though, I do not exactly see the point of having you carry it when I’ve done it completely fine on my own earlier.”
“Me neither. Though, I’ve noticed Timaeus does it constantly to Ying’Er. I figured applying it to our fake relationship would be just right.” There the internal recoil went again.
They both chuckled as they headed for the door. “It must be nice to reach that level of understanding in relationships. I commend him for that. I would never have the energy for such.” Sucrose goes out of the library with Albedo following. Her calm and collected composure from earlier immediately dissipated once the library doors closed and she was now out wide open.
Albedo noticed and took her hand in his, surprising both of them.
“Mister Albedo, what are you–” Sucrose was about to shake her hand away in protest after noticing the stares but Albedo held her hands tightly. “I have no interest in things like that too, but don’t you think it would be nice to learn more data as we go along the two weeks?”
There it was, the magic word, a research jargon that surely made things easier for her. “I see your point. But,” She fumbled as she noticed more eyes on her, “I am not a fan of the attention this is bringing.”
“Well,” Albedo side-eyed the people looking and urged them to stop. “Maybe you could add these little elements to the story? How can you put it… Ah, ‘He clasps his hand on hers, and the group stares, speechless.’”
Sucrose looks up at him and adds, “She lowers her gaze but her heart is fluttering at the new sensation, a connection she has never felt before.” Albedo beamed a wide smile. “Exactly like that.” Sucrose smiled as well and they walked the streets with their hands stuck like glue, though he could still feel that Sucrose was anxious about holding hands in public. Stringing her anxieties to turning them into descriptions for her novel seemed to have helped her. Though, he is now left wondering.
“Her heart is fluttering at the new sensation.”
He wondered if that was what she was feeling as they held hands. He certainly didn’t feel his heart race, but a part of him wished that it made hers. He pondered even more as he watched her face. She was looking at the pavement down below as they walked, he could tell she was thinking of the words to write for her book. Her cheeks are red, but they have always been like that, at least he thinks so. He wondered again if they were always this red whenever he was around. So many questions yet so little attention from the little chemist-turned-writer right beside him.
Maybe, in the next few days, he will get answers to the questions running around in his mind. Or maybe, she too will develop questions for him.