The boy wasn't exactly sure his thoughts at the moment. Albedo held tightly to the two notebooks in his arms, and fingered the origami butterfly with his fingertips. Why was it that people kept giving him things here? It didn't make sense at all. He couldn't wrap his mind around....
The game he had played on the board was both relaxing and extremely frustrating. He could say for the simple fact of it not being completed, but in truth it was more Nigredo's insistent necessity to not communicate at all. Was the younger really so stupid as to believe that Albedo would leave him alone if he was silent? The baby was reaching too far with that one. His actions, and lack of it, were just fueling Albedo's building rage.
But that wasn't for now. Carefully holding his things, he took a tray filled with the fruits and nuts and such that had been mentioned--Albedo couldn't bring himself to eat whatever the main course was. He slid into a table and picked at the things on his tray, the butterfly sitting next to him, watching. He stared at it with a blank look, not noticing that he was still holding on to the notebooks. Three people here--four, if you count how helpful Allen was--had given him things, been kind to him, in the solitary day he had been here. Four. For no reason other than their own kindness, from what Albedo could tell. And he couldn't understand that.
The thought seeped into his mind like a disease, swirled around those thoughts, and settled, with weight, over his heart. The pressure was almost unbearable, squeezing his chest like a giant hand that saw fit to snuff out his eternal life. That heavy thought. Why?
Why, if those other people, those strangers, could be so kind, wouldn't Rubedo, his own twin, do the same?
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The game he had played on the board was both relaxing and extremely frustrating. He could say for the simple fact of it not being completed, but in truth it was more Nigredo's insistent necessity to not communicate at all. Was the younger really so stupid as to believe that Albedo would leave him alone if he was silent? The baby was reaching too far with that one. His actions, and lack of it, were just fueling Albedo's building rage.
But that wasn't for now. Carefully holding his things, he took a tray filled with the fruits and nuts and such that had been mentioned--Albedo couldn't bring himself to eat whatever the main course was. He slid into a table and picked at the things on his tray, the butterfly sitting next to him, watching. He stared at it with a blank look, not noticing that he was still holding on to the notebooks. Three people here--four, if you count how helpful Allen was--had given him things, been kind to him, in the solitary day he had been here. Four. For no reason other than their own kindness, from what Albedo could tell. And he couldn't understand that.
The thought seeped into his mind like a disease, swirled around those thoughts, and settled, with weight, over his heart. The pressure was almost unbearable, squeezing his chest like a giant hand that saw fit to snuff out his eternal life. That heavy thought. Why?
Why, if those other people, those strangers, could be so kind, wouldn't Rubedo, his own twin, do the same?
[Taken.]