A simple tilt of his head, an amused glance. "I wasn't going to. I'm not as mad as you may think." Though if mad meant angry or insane was left to the imagination. A smirk tugged at his lips, more amused than cruel. The man's frozen look told Albedo far too much about how Klavier had been affected by this, and it gave him something--a renewed strength in something dear and dark, perhaps, and maybe just in himself. Maybe it was now the same.
He handed the items back to Klavier without any games. "Sorry about your pen," he murmured. though the blank tone gave no indication of any genuine apology. The boy stood then, and peeled away the bandage he had been fiddling with the entire shift. The redness there pointed to what had been a large injury--in truth, it had been bitten down to the bone, muscle ripping away like some kind of meat. And it was, wasn't it? Just meat in the end. Ruined flesh and empty husks, shells of what once was. Albedo took an open-mouthed breath, shuddering suddenly. Something too much like a memory had slipped in, a vague snapshot and sharp emotions--death and dying, the threat of it, and the ones that he--
--Loved. The ones he loved far too close on touching on it.
Albedo swallowed thickly, eyes squinted shut. Below his fingertips, skin was pulling achingly slow over a layer of muscle, the same faint glow accompanying the motion. His constant headache throughout the day? Partially from this, and partially from things half-forgotten, half-remembered. And he found that he didn't want to--
Forget. Remember. He wasn't sure which. But the urge and longing was strong. Severe. His hand grasped his healing arm like one would clutch at a loved one; seeking some comfort that wouldn't be provided. A low drone alerted him to the man talking again, though only part of Klavier's words made it through. He glanced down at Klavier, something in his eyes too much like fear. Albedo blinked, quickly, and then there was only loss. "Latin?" His voice came, small and unsure, like the child at the beginning. "I wouldn't know."
His eyes shifted downward. "It does." Almost defiant, Albedo looked up again, seeming old and much too young all at once. "Give me peace."
no subject
He handed the items back to Klavier without any games. "Sorry about your pen," he murmured. though the blank tone gave no indication of any genuine apology. The boy stood then, and peeled away the bandage he had been fiddling with the entire shift. The redness there pointed to what had been a large injury--in truth, it had been bitten down to the bone, muscle ripping away like some kind of meat. And it was, wasn't it? Just meat in the end. Ruined flesh and empty husks, shells of what once was. Albedo took an open-mouthed breath, shuddering suddenly. Something too much like a memory had slipped in, a vague snapshot and sharp emotions--death and dying, the threat of it, and the ones that he--
--Loved. The ones he loved far too close on touching on it.
Albedo swallowed thickly, eyes squinted shut. Below his fingertips, skin was pulling achingly slow over a layer of muscle, the same faint glow accompanying the motion. His constant headache throughout the day? Partially from this, and partially from things half-forgotten, half-remembered. And he found that he didn't want to--
Forget. Remember. He wasn't sure which. But the urge and longing was strong. Severe. His hand grasped his healing arm like one would clutch at a loved one; seeking some comfort that wouldn't be provided. A low drone alerted him to the man talking again, though only part of Klavier's words made it through. He glanced down at Klavier, something in his eyes too much like fear. Albedo blinked, quickly, and then there was only loss. "Latin?" His voice came, small and unsure, like the child at the beginning. "I wouldn't know."
His eyes shifted downward. "It does." Almost defiant, Albedo looked up again, seeming old and much too young all at once. "Give me peace."