[This is a pain over a decade in the making, a pain that Albert has felt since he realized he was different, not like his wretched family. The pain of being kind in an unkind world, of being gentle with no way to remain such. The first few times he killed were so terrible, and each is seared into his mind. The fact that it got easier, that he became numb, is what he grieves now, too, as he feels the warmth and serene understanding coming from Ignis. Their bond that had dulled over the last few days of Albert's hiding flares to life, passion and grief, acceptance and sorrow.
If he could be by this man's side until the bitter end...
After what feels like forever to Albert, the tears subside and he lifts his head slightly. He wants to say something warm, or something profound, about the oasis that Ignis has become already, but his mind is so clouded and stuck between his own pain and the adoration and support Ignis radiates that all he can do is stare at the damp spot he made on this man's beautiful shirt.]
Oh. Your shirt. I'm so sorry.
[He finds Ignis' eyes easily, those arms still around him, every point where they touch a soothing reminder of the connection they've made. His fingers loosen their grip on the poor shirt and he smooths his fingers over the wrinkles he's caused.
His voice is whisper soft now, on the heels of that fragile apology.]
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If he could be by this man's side until the bitter end...
After what feels like forever to Albert, the tears subside and he lifts his head slightly. He wants to say something warm, or something profound, about the oasis that Ignis has become already, but his mind is so clouded and stuck between his own pain and the adoration and support Ignis radiates that all he can do is stare at the damp spot he made on this man's beautiful shirt.]
Oh. Your shirt. I'm so sorry.
[He finds Ignis' eyes easily, those arms still around him, every point where they touch a soothing reminder of the connection they've made. His fingers loosen their grip on the poor shirt and he smooths his fingers over the wrinkles he's caused.
His voice is whisper soft now, on the heels of that fragile apology.]
Ignis. My darling, dearest Ignis. I...