not to me, not if it’s you ; oct 7th
He collected the time they spent together like butterflies in jars, keeping each memory alive behind his glass jar to keep safe and look at on other days. On slower days. On days where Aether had one too many commissions and Xiao had Adeptal duties he could not ignore.
On those days Albedo took out his collection of jars and went through each memory, sorting through the warm feelings as he let his heart thaw in the icy depths of Dragonspine.
And although the two men brought nothing but joy to Albedo’s white plain life, there had always been a nagging feeling that disrupted his warmth, a feeling that dared to break his glassware.
Aren’t you selfish, it would ask, keeping them all to yourself, aren’t you guilty?
Albedo didn’t think of himself as possessive but—well, there had been instances: times where he’d smile a little thinner or narrow his eyes a little longer when someone brushed their hands over Aethers, or when someone got too close to Xiao.
Moments where he felt an uneasiness in his stomach, a greed he could never fully quench where he sought hard to pull them in and hold them in his hands, dragons greed he called it.
Because Durin had obviously not corrupted him enough it meant a dragon's tendency to hoard and hide prized possessions had also bled into Albedo’s newest quirks.
It didn’t help that the two men had Albedo entirely wrapped around their fingers, more often than not he found himself willingly ready to drop anything to spend time with them.
In a way his desperation disgusted him, but it was never enough for him to care to stop leaving at their beck and call.
Sure, there are times he finds his behavior selfish, and others where he’s entirely repulsed by his decisions. But the smiles on their faces are enough to transcend his mortal insecurities, he has centuries to love them, there is no use spending those years feeling uneasy.
Love had always been an unfamiliar concept but it was an emotion that came easy with Aether and Xiao. It wasn’t as difficult anymore, not to him, not if it's them.
He thinks it over once more; not if it's them, in a way it’s the truth.
Yet this time, it wasn’t as repulsive to realize.