#emeraldwarmth

ღ;; Huh.. It was around here where Vincent had asked her to meet him, wasn't it? No, no, this was the wrong turn.. It must be back that way.. Or maybe not? Being slightly too carefree when accepting the directions to revere herself around Reveille, it was quite obvious at this point that the young noblewoman had managed to get herself in quite the pickle. Yes, she was indeed lost. Not only was she worrying over the fact that she was going to be late for her date, but to be in such a crowded place at this time of day.. Let's just say Ada had tried to 'pretty herself up' especially for the occasion. People picking her out in recognition of being in an upper class wouldn't exactly be ideal right about now and she could only imagine--- Bump. Oh no.. Was that---? "O-Onii-chan..?"

6. Our muses find an old abandoned tree house in the woods and decide to take refuge in it and share childhood stories.

◊ | There’s no other place to stay. Sure, it’s dark, and the two were separated from Gilbert, but they can’t stay up all night to find the Raven. “Hey, Oz.” Alice starts a small tug on his arm. “What about that place? It’s high up, and no chain can find us,” She squints her eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness.

◊ | Right away, a scowl is upon her lips, eyebrows narrowing angrily. She's building up rage, her blood is practically boiling in her body. "Excuse me?!" Those words ringing in her ears were nothing more than invisible daggers stabbing her chest. Alice wants to yell. She wants to cry. But...

Shaking her head, she merely glares at her manservant, amethyst eyes sharpening in a glaring flame.

"So THIS is what you really think of me, Oz?! HUH?!" 

SLAP!

She angrily slaps his cheek, not caring that there's a red mark on his face. KICK! The next thing she does is raise her leg, kicking him on the chest, sending the boy down to his bottom. Alice angrily wipes her eyes, before stomping on his chest hard.

"You good-for-nothing cretlin. If that's what I really am to you..." Dragging her heel away, the girl turns away, her back facing him. "Then I don't need you anymore." Her voice is breaking, like a million shards of glass shot by a bullet.

"...GET OUT OF MY SIGHT. And don't talk to me. EVER."

Alice keeps on running down the hallways, and when she reaches her bedroom, she slams the door, locking it down. She's been rejected. She was torn apart. All by her own manservant. There's a part of her conscience telling her that it's a joke--that Oz didn't really mean it. 

◊ | Alice blinks. She wasn't entirely asleep, but her eyes were simply closed. The girl hadn't drifted off into slumber quite yet--trains of thoughts were circling around her mind, like an endless dance of thinking. But--isn't this the time were you don't think at all? Dainty fingers stroke the fabric of the blanket, since it was cold in the outside. Oz's small mumble broke her railroad of deliberations, as her attention turns to the blond.

Amethyst optics squint at the sight of the young boy, as Alice tried to make out her vision in this darkness. Damn it. However, it didn't take a few seconds before she can see the sleeping Vessalius still in the depths of his dreams. (Was he dreaming? She can't tell. But he called her name.) Slowly, she sits up from the bed, the blanket draping down to her lap, but still around his shoulders. Alice doesn't waste any time to answer the boy.

"Oz?" Seconds pass, and still no answer. But she can still hear his breathing, and the somnolent sound of her name being called. "...I'm right here," Alice answers, her hand inching away from his, with only her fingertips making contact with his knuckles.

What is it, you idiot? C'mon, wake up already. You called me. So what do'ya need from me?