[ how odd now, that the notion of a few hours apart seems ultimately unpleasant, that he will be counting down the minutes until he sees him again. but the adage proves true: that absence makes the heart fonder, and in albert's absence, ignis will contemplate the weight of what has been allowed to flourish between them. albert, who is impossibly complicated and yet absurdly compelling in his own right, is a man who is opening up to him in degrees. there is a kindness under that slick charm, a hidden pain that ignis is just barely brushing the surface of, and he supposes that perhaps it's true that like calls to like.

he looks back at him, really looks, memorising every inch of him -- and yet, it's still not enough -- the longing is overwhelming, powerfully pulsing in the bond that they share, like a siren's song calling out to him. albert doesn't want him to go, he thinks. so he kisses him again, breathes the same air as him before he slowly pulls away, releasing him from his hold.

they both have things to do and places to go, and despite feeling like a reckless teenager, ignis knows that he must leave for the day. he runs his fingers through albert's soft hair again, cupping his face briefly before he definitively steps away. his heart is still racing, even as he picks up on albert's thoughts, skimming the surface of it. despite not being able to grasp them, he can sense that lightness, that wonder.

albert's choice chases the shadows from his own thoughts away. ignis will face them on his own time, come to terms with the inevitable future that descends upon him -- that one day, albert's face will truly only be a memory. ]

So we will.

[ he says finally, with a soft smile. saying goodbye is such sweet sorrow, but they will meet again tonight. ]

I'll come for you in a few hours, Albert. Dress casually, we are visiting some lively places tonight.