#trufflebread

We see that Norton tends to suppress his emotions. Out of habit, he never really shows what he actually feels, and he comes off as taciturn as a result. On the other hand, Fool's Gold doesn't hold back nor bottle his emotions up. He expresses himself however he pleases, and he is pretty straightforward about it. He is just Norton without any filters.

I can picture a scenario where Alice's and Norton's relationship starts to evolve: Norton would never admit that he has developed any feelings for the journalist, denying anyone who dares to poke him about it. Even pushes back his own thoughts that might entertain the idea. He makes sure to keep a certain distance from her, no matter how much he actually wants to get closer. Perhaps deep down he is scared of rejection as he thinks Alice is leagues above him. And he doesn't want to lose her.

Then when FG enters the scene, suddenly he is unapologetically affectionate and flirtatious. He stays close to her and follows her around. Plays with her hair and holds her. Utters sweet words to her. A very obvious declaration of his feelings for Alice.

And when Norton comes to, he would be absolutely horrified by all the things he had done as FG. Forget the hunting down and eliminating his fellow survivors. Forget losing their trust because of it. All that didn't hold a candle to the utter disaster that was being so blatantly open with his feelings for Alice. He can never come back from that. He wishes he could just sink into a hole and disappear. There is no way Alice would reciprocate his feelings. Not to someone like him.

NOTES:

CREDITS TO MY DEAREST DEAR @st0nedluissera FOR HELPING ME W/ THE PLOT!!!!

     There was something about the look on Alice’s face that he just couldn’t shake minutes after meeting herfor the first time.

It was strange-- rarely did he ever care about what people thought of him now. He did whatever he wanted and figured whiners could stick a finger up their nose if they wanted to complain about him and his rocky attitude. 

     But this woman… 

     “Am I that ugly or what??” Norton blinked. The woman hadn’t anything except for a brief introduction  with a measly ‘hello’ and had been  staring at  him as if he were a pile of dynamite about to explode on her. 

     He just wanted to survey the land, man. 

     “Ah,” as if breaking free from a trance, the woman--a journalist, she declared earlier-- suddenly blinked and flinched slightly, taking a moment to inhale before looking back up at him. “I’m… afraid I didn’t quite hear your question, Mr. Campbell.”

     He  blinked back at her. And then he shrugged and sighed, “D’oh, forget about that one. I’m just here to ask if you’d be willing to let me survey your land. I’m a prospector.”

     “Oh, I see,” her face was filled with life once more. She smiled at him and began rocking back and forth on her feet. She  had some nice shoes. “Is there a specific kind of mineral you’re looking for?”

     “Gold.”

     “...Naturally,” Alice nodded. Now her eyes  were sharp, staring at him. He felt naked as her eyes scanned his frame with a hint of scrutiny. She had seemed nice at first…

     “Why don’t you come inside?” she concluded, the smile returning once more. 

                                                                              ~

     Alice had no time or  need to ponder the strange dilemma that had just befallen her.

     Yes, she told herself several times, it was Norton Campbell who had arrived at her door. Yes, that same prospecting Norton Campbell whom she had sacrificed herself for-- and not just for him, but for all else who had been stuck in that Manor which she now had possession of, cursed land it was. 

     She felt a sense of giddiness as she led him to herdining table. As she heard him pitch his case-- searching for gold to split money between his own purposes but also to back an orphanage restoration effort (Alice imagined it was led by that religious man, Andrew Kreiss, and the sketchy but well-intentioned Kreacher Pierson. How were they doing, anyhow? Lord willing they’d come visit just like Norton had, somehow). 

     It was strange, and in more ways  than one-- it seemed the deal with that Angel had truly worked, and now Norton had lost most if not all meaningful recollection of the Manor in its entirety.

     As he continued, taking out contracts, pens and, of course, what money he had, Alice made sure  to take several notes on his  behavior. Posture. Tone. What was he doing here? How did he… why…

     He embodied a stained imitation of a salesman, --she knew full well he was not the most eloquent man-- lacking the charisma and suave tone while holding sincerity. 

     (And there was no sign of the same rigidity he once held, faced with the terrors of the Manor he had been lured into for the sake of a madman’s whims. No sign of the same fear that  had marred  his face as Alice  had taken the stand right in this very room to end those terrors once and for all.)

     Sincerity-- it was all Alice needed.

     He was still talking even when Alice had already signed off on the contract. 

     “Huh…” Norton had cut himself off the moment he realized Alice was offering his pen back to him.

     He looked up with an almost pleading expression, as if to ask if she had really agreed to such a thing. 

     Alice nodded.

     She had already given so much for him (for everyone)-- what was a little bit of herself  for another good cause?

                                                                           ~

     Working with Alice DeRoss was a dream.

     Over the next few weeks, Alice had offered (and Norton had accepted) him a spare room, made him food (even allowed him to cook with her), and often spent time with him in her quaint little greenhouses that held roses and sunflowers and all kinds of lovely things in full bloom. 

     It was a Sunday, now. Alice had  driven back from a more populated region after what Norton assumed was a church service and service in a soup kitchen (she seemed the type, even if she never really opened up on her ventures) to discover Norton sitting on the steps inspecting some kind of gem in his hands. 

     “Hello,” she chirped, carrying some wrapped fresh bread and two bottles of milk in her gloved hands. She wore a ruffled puff sleeve dress made out of some kind of rich person textured fabric with a green ribbon around her waist. “What’re you doing out here, Norton?”

     “I’ll answer that if you tell me who makes your clothes,” he hummed, eyeing her up and down. “And also if you tell me how you’re so rich in the first place.”

     ‘Still as blunt as always,’ Alice mused internally as she sat beside him, offering him the milk and half of the  bread she bought. He took it rather hesitantly and offered her the ore he had been observing. 

     “So?” he raised an eyebrow, digging into his  bread. 

     “I’ve told you several times now that it doesn’t matter-- but you could  say I was born rich,” Alice eyed the ore. It was gold. 

     “Yet you have no servants? Aside from me.”

     “Oh, good grief, Norton.”

     “Just teasing you,” he did something akin to a chuckle and watched her take off her satin gloves. “Nice gloves, lady.”

      “Thanks,” she lightly rolled her eyes. “But you say  everything I have is nice.”

     “Can’t a man be honest?” he spoke before taking another bite of his bread. 

     “Better to be  honest than to be flattering,” she ribbed his side. 

     “I am both,” Norton side-eyed her. “And you know what? I’ll be honest again.”

     “Oh?”

     Norton’s gaze softened. And then he formed a bitter smile. 

     “Is it weird to say I’m… not looking forward to my contract ending soon?” he forced out of his mouth, pausing at times to think through what he was saying. “I mean,I’ve found all the gold I could ever want here, surprisingly…”

     “Like this one?” Alice raised the ore. 

     At that, Norton’s solemn expression broke and formed a tiny (but genuine!) smile. “...You too, huh.”

     “Huh?” Alice rapidly blinked.

     He gestured for her to return the ore. She did. 

    Norton held it out for her once more, placing it further into direct sunlight. “This is pyrite. It's called ‘fool’s gold’. And for good reason, too.”

     “Oh,” Alice turned a subtle shade of pink. 

     “Ah, don’t worry about it,” Norton’s smile grew as he placed the ore between them. “Rookie mistake.”

     “What’s the difference, though?” Alice tilted  her head 

     Norton picked up the ore again, more carefully now. 

     He leaned closer to her (taking a swig of milk in the process), and then pointed to the ore itself. “Color’s duller than actual gold. Plus, pyrite’s way lighter. 

     He continued. “Gold’s real dense. Did you know it's malleable, too? 

     He suddenly brandished a mallet. “Check this out.”

     “Where did that come fro--”

     “If I hit this right here…” Norton began, setting the ore on the ground. Then, with one hand shielding his food, he  hit the ore with a moderate amount of force. 

     (Sparks flew.)

     “It shatters,” Norton concluded as the faint scent of sulfur wafted through Alice’s nose. 

     “Wow,” Alice lightly applauded, a bright smile on her face. 

     …Something about  that made Norton blush. 

     “Aww, now you’re all red,” Alice cooed, her giggling almost musical as she placed the back of her hand to his forehead. Norton shut his eyes as Alice slowly retracted her hand and added:

     “Maybe you should go back inside.”

     “You should join me,” Norton hummed, and then reopened his eyes.

     His grin fell from his face when he noticed the blood staining the lower half of Alice’s face.

                                                                               ~

     For the next few days, Alice’s conditions rapidly deteriorated. 

     It started with the nosebleeds-- the longer she spent with him, it seemed, the worse they would get.

     That first time, it lasted for a minute. 

     Lately, it would last for half an hour if not more. 

     Not to mention the nausea, too. 

     Alice was no longer a presence at the dinner table in recent times. The only trace of her was in the food she would still attempt to make.

     The dishes had gotten simpler--and Norton felt it was selfish for him to notice. Gone were the elaborate desserts and coffees with whipped cream and trufflebread she seemed so fond of serving at hours of the day. He wouldn’t even get started on all the roasted things they shared together. 

     Now, there was nothing to share. It was mostly soup fit for one with a side of standard brioche to boot. She left  the whipped cream out for him to use sparingly. 

     She seldom left the house now, and by the time Norton’s contract had ended, she only left  the house  on Sundays.

     “I’m sorry, Norton,” she drearily sighed on yet another fateful Sunday after returning to Oletus from a nearby town down the hill. 

     Norton had been lounging about in the greenhouse, sitting on a bench they had built together in front of the sunflowers (it turned out they had shared a favorite flower). He flinched the moment  he heard her hoarse voice. 

     How had it all gone so wrong, so quickly?

     She took a seat beside him. 

     “Last  day for me,” Norton hummed, not daring to meet her gaze. He felt it pierce him through. “Maybe I’m making you sick, huh, Alice?”

     “...Maybe,” she confessed-- and she really meant it. 

     “Sorry,” he muttered. “I know it's terrible. Being basically bedridden and all that.”

     “Everything will be okay.”

     “Always the optimist…” Norton mused. His eyes had lingered on the sunflower in front of her. 

     He sighed. He eyed the top of her  head. “You remind me of them, you know.”

     “Them who?” she tilted her head. 

     “The sunflowers.”

     “That’s a sweet sentiment.”

     “No, I’m serious.”

     “...”

     The silence was unbearable. 

     Norton dared to speak again: 

     “You know, I think I love you.”

     At this, Alice immediately piqued up. (She ignored the throbbing pounding at her head-- as if her head was being smacked like mallets, and  her skull was the pyrite.)

     She looked straight at him-- and too quickly for Norton to avert his gaze away. “You… what?”

     “What if I said I loved you?” he repeated, hushed this time. This was… incredibly embarrassing for him. 

     “There’s a lot of different kinds of love, Norton…” Alice’s eyes fell to the floor. 

     “Well, sure. But I just wanted to tell you that. Because I know tomorrow I… have to go, and…” Norton shut his eyes. 

     He was a fool talking to a lady of straight gold. 

     “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I think I sound really stupid right now.”

     “I’ve never cared  about that,” Alice retorted, and then she placed a hand on his shoulder. 

     “...”

     “...You know, it’d be wrong of me to not be honest. And flattering, like you are."

     “Heh,” his eyes remained focused on the floor. 

     “So… let me return the sentiment,” she formed a weak smile. It was almost exactly like those same bright beams he used to give him all those weeks ago, and yet there was something… different about it. 

     Norton just couldn’t name it before she spoke again:

     “I love you.”

     Her words weighed on his body like a cross of gold. 

     “Ah…” Alice’s eyes suddenly widened. 

     She slammed a hand over her mouth.

     The muted sound of coughing was the only noise Norton could  hear, even as she left.  

                                                                      ~

     All things happened for a reason. 

     At least, that was what Alice believed.

     She took anything, would take anything, as long it made sense in the end.

     As long as the truth was worth  it. 

     To her, it always had been. 

     She hadn’t hesitated when she was offered the chance to set all the souls she had grown to love, to care for, to cherish, free from the hellscape that had  been Oletus. 

     She didn’t use ‘hell’ sparingly, either. 

     She had given so much. She had given all of ‘Eurydice Lamb’-- that false self from so long ago. 

     She had dealt with an angel. 

     [“You couldn’t sell your soul, Orpheus. Why did you think all of them would be any different?”]

     [“I would do anything for you, Eurydice. You understand this is all in everyone’s collective interests, yes? Let me have this, Eurydice. It benefits you, too.”]

     [“You’ve gone mad.”]

     [“...”]

     [“You cannot sacrifice them for me. A devil won’t uphold its deal.”]

     [“It's the only thing I haven’t tried, Eurydice.”]

     [“You--”]

     [“I won’t look back.”]

                                                                 [BE NOT AFRAID]

     [“Nobody will remember your sacrifice, Alice, should you choose to make it.”]

     [“I will make it.”]

     [“This will impact your own memories as well, Alice.]

     [“I warn  you that the consequences will be dire. For a set amount of time, no one will remember you. No one will recall your --or his’-- very existence. Should one of them encounter you before this period of time ends, remember that for their sake, you will suffer for it.”]

     [“I’m not sure I understand I will do it.”]

     [“Your faith is admirable. Very well then.”]

a/n: deal w devil boring ‘deal’ w angel fire

hallelujah… so close now… it’s like that feeling when you’re able to leave a party bruh…