The world tilts on its side, just barely. Just enough that, suddenly, nothing feels familiar —— not Albedo, not their tender ( still tender, like a bruise is tender ) heart, not the being - used. They stare at him, expression blank, eyes not widening. They dim, wash out like the planet's tide, and that's all. Lumine sees but doesn't take in. Albedo is — crying. Lumine doesn't understand.
The numbness now is swallowing / something sick making up the empty. Pollution, not just grief. How strange, to watch their lover cry while their face is perilously vacant. She's never seen him cry. Watched him hurt, certainly, but never cry. It's always been her doing the sobbing. ( she's reminded of aether, and how she cried to him so much more than he did to her. perhaps that's why it was so easy to leave her. she needed — as ever — too much. ) How strange, that this moment would summon Albedo's tears when nothing else has.
——— Why is he crying? They can't help but wonder. There's something small, childish, not - quite - hope trying to pierce the abandoned god's heart ——— maybe I'm wrong? Is he crying because I'm wrong?
Savage, quickly, don't hope. Don't want. Don't need. He's not arguing with me. He's agreeing. Don't need more than that. He used me, like everyone else. Stop being stupid or you'll deserve the pain next time.
How strange, to watch him cry and not understand why. He doesn't understand, so he can't process. Or his heart is already so hurt, it isn't allowing him to.
The earth is tilted, just barely. Lumine stands from where they sit. The earth is tilted, just barely. Lumine closes the distance, not quite sure, not quite awake, unable to parse this reaction or the reality in which it exists. Albedo had used him like an object. Albedo had lied to him. Lumine has merely put that reality into words. He sees them as an object — if that were not true, he would not have used them as one. "I don't understand why you're crying," Lumine confesses. They're not sure where they can touch him. They can't —— nothing makes sense. There had been something like sense in the mess of her / Albedo sees me as an object / I can be smaller, I can want less / it makes sense that he would use me, because that's why I'm here. Miserable arithmetic, but at least the math checks out. Lumine is not a person. No one truly loves Lumine as anything but a tool to use. But why would Albedo weep for a blunt weapon?
"—— I'm sorry," she says, rote, mechanical. He says he'll stay, but he's lied to her before, hasn't he? Again and again and again. Unfair to him, that she expected anything else. That small, childish voice cries too . But the girl is dying. Only god / sterile light is left. She takes his hands and can't feel the contact. She gropes for an answer and isn't sure why. He seems like he's grieving, but what? Her ignorance? Her ache at what he's always known? "Are you...angry at me? For realizing?"
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