Hey @maryiritza ! I am your Ghost secret Santa this year! I adore Albino and am happy to see Primo being someone’s ship for once. I wrote a romantic little short about your OC/Primo and I really hope that you like it :)
The days had grown colder and autumn was turning into winter. The leaves had fallen from all the trees in the orchard and a light frost coated the grounds in the mornings. With the damp air came a change within Primo. “Seasonal depression” as they called it nowadays. And this worried Albino.
Albino had noticed the change in Primo for far too long. His love had not been sleeping well. The nights stretched out too long and he could often find him brooding in front of the fire place while nursing a glass of wine. He didn’t tend to the gardens as much and recently made a Ghoul cry when they commented on the despair the greenhouse had fallen in to. Albino hadn’t been able to coax a reason from Primo. All he had been able to do was watch his partner stay in his melancholy state.
On this morning, Albino rose from bed rather late. Normally, he was the first to wake and would make breakfast. Afterward, and much to Primo’s dismay, he’d dress Primo in his daily attire- brushing out his long flaxen hair and making sure his robes weren’t wrinkled. That hadn’t happened this morning. Primo’s robes were missing from the wardrobe. He had left while Albino slept. The only evidence that he had done any form of “self-care” was a half empty bowl of cereal that sat in the sink.
“That obtuse man,” Albino muttered as he saw the bowl. “Cereal isn’t a proper meal.”
Albino walked back into the bedroom and began to dress himself in his black cassock. When the last button was clasped, he sat on the stool in front of the antique vanity to pamper himself. As he applied products to his hair, his gaze caught the reflection of the vase of bleeding heart flowers that sat on the nightstand. Its petals had long withered, some in a scattered mess on the table’s surface. The vase was barren of water and the scum from dirty water was caked to the glass.
Albino let out defeated sigh. He and Primo loved to garden, tending carefully to Primo’s personal collection of poisonous flowers. Primo normally kept a vase of fresh flowers in their bedroom, saying “such beauty shouldn’t be kept in a garden”. Truthfully- Primo hated to cut his special flowers, but he had done it to make Albino happy. He loved him after all. However- the gravity of the situation fell onto Albino’s shoulders. Primo was truly depressed and was neglecting a passion of his.
Albino’s mind raced as he twirled the hairbrush around in his hand. He wanted to help Primo come out of this funk, to see a smile on his face again. He had been patient, not wanting to be overbearing. However- the time had come to push forward. And as he continued to stare at the sad flower vase, an idea popped into his mind.
The garden might be the answer. An offering…
By midday, he was elbow deep into his surprise for Primo. He and some of the Ghouls tended to the greenhouse, ushering in a fresh breath of life into all the plants. They pruned what was necessary, swept the floors free of leaves, and did many more things to make it look vibrant again. Someone brought candles and placed them all around, leaving enough room so as to not burn the plants. And once they were lit, their warmth began to chase away the darkness that had settled.
Albino just hoped it would chase away the darkness in Primo’s mind.
A while later, once dusk had come, Albino and Primo were taking their nightly stroll around the Ministry. It was routine after dinner.
They stopped at the archway that led to the gardens. Primo looked to his greenhouse, a look of guilt in his eyes.
“What’s wrong,” Albino asked, placing a gentle hand on Primo’s shoulder.
“I dread the day I walk in there again,” Primo said, the sadness in his tone. “I’ve neglected it longer than I should’ve. Satan forgive me for it.”
“We can go together right now,” Albino suggested.
Primo sighed. “You don’t need to see the err of my ways, Albino.”
“I know, but this could be a way for you to begin to feel better.” He laced his fingers through Primo’s, squeezing his hand gently.
Albino could sense the pressure Primo felt. He hoped that he would decide to go into the greenhouse. If not, the plan was thwarted. He wondered if Primo expected him to relent, but Albino wouldn’t.
“I’ll be by your side,” Albino whispered. He brought Primo’s hand to his mouth, placing gentle kisses on his knuckles.
“Come,” Primo told him, still holding his hand as he began to walk forward.
When Primo opened the doors, his eyes saw not what he dreaded. He instead saw that all was as it should be. His mouth fell agape. Light bloomed around him, adding warmth to the chilly winter air. His flowers were alive, looking healthy and vibrant. He felt his heart squeeze and a rush of love through his veins.
Albino brushed back his brown locks, anxious by Primo’s silence.
“Che bellezza diabolica,” Primo muttered. His hand fell from Albino’s as he reached out to touch the bleeding hearts. Their petals were cool but soft, but Primo was still shocked that they were alive.
“How is it possible,” Primo asked, turning around to face Albino.
“The Ghouls helped,” he answered, moving to the bench. It groaned as he sat down. “I did it because…”
He couldn’t finish. He felt his cheeks warm, realizing that he was bashful. Primo recognized this immediately. With a caring hand, he titled Albino’s chin upward until he could see his partner’s glistening green eyes twinkle in the moonlight.
“Don’t be embarrassed, amore,” he whispered, rubbing small circles onto his chin with his thumb.
“I did it because I’ve been worried for you,” Albino finally confessed. “You’ve been not yourself. More melancholy by the day. I wanted to do something to make you smile, to make you realize that the darkness of your mind can fade.”
Primo then sat next to Albino on the bench. His heart swelled at love’s confession.
“I have not been myself, no. That’s true,” he said, looking to the sky. “Things have been difficult. I normally am resilient, but this time, not so much.”
Albino lovingly laid his head on Primo’s shoulder and listened as he continued to speak. Primo had indeed been dealing with some difficulties- murmurs of the unsatisfactory job he had done as Papa, lack of warm candor, and the prospect of growing older. It had infected his mind with terrible thoughts and it wasn’t something he was accustomed to.
“But tonight…I think I can begin to become normal. Your love for me is reflected in the work you’ve done.” He gestured around, much pride in his voice.
“I would do anything for you,” Albino promised. “Your happiness matters much to me.”
Primo smiled. It was rare- something he only afforded to Albino in private. Albino reached up to kiss Primo’s soft lips, reveling in their warmth. They continued like that for a moment until it devolved into heated passion.
“Anything, huh,” Primo asked, his voice slightly huskier.
Albino slid off the bench and relaxed onto his knees. He slid his hands underneath Primo’s robes until he found his cock.
“Anything,” he vowed, ducking his head underneath the robes.
The night continued on. This was the beginning of Primo’s journey of self-healing.
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