![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolevalanFandom: Gankutsuou
Characters/Pairing: Albert de Morcerf/Franz d'Epinay
Prompt: 5, Envy
Word Count: 703
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Characters, situation, etc, not mine. Set in episode 16, so mild spoilers for anything before that point.
Author's Notes: An internal monologue to go with the "Wrath" prompt for Albert. More dialogue in the future, I promise. Oh, the angst.
Franz’s eyes hurt. He leaned back in the chair and stretched absently, hearing his spine crack more than feeling it. How long had he been sitting here? He shook his head and got up, looking out the window at the sea. The sun was setting and it had set the sky aflame, brilliant oranges and purples and reds. Summer in Marseilles. Beautiful.
But he couldn’t take it in; he couldn’t really see it. His thoughts were still whirling, always coming to rest on the stack of papers behind him, like a ball that kept rolling down to rest at the lowest point of its track. Gankutsuou… the Count must be becoming the monster. Or is the monster. Or…
His jaw clenched. Whatever the case, it meant that he had been right all along. The Count was bad news, for all of them. For Albert. Franz ran his fingers through his hair and sat down again, sifting through the notes. He would find the answer, and then get back to Paris. He knew it was there, if he just looked hard enough.
And he had to keep himself busy, after all. Because of the nagging voice at the back of his mind. The suspicion that his feelings about the Count, though proving more and more true with every step he took, didn’t come from observation or from cleverness. He hadn’t seen any evidence, right away, that the Count was anything more than eccentric, and that was certainly common enough in the aristocracy.
No, the thing that made him hunt down the Count’s origin, that drove him, mercilessly, was nothing so altruistic. Of course he wanted to keep Albert safe. Always. And yet…
Somehow, I had the feeling you would come.
He could still see Albert, shirt open, face covered in dirt, looking up at the Count in easy gratitude. With something close to adoration; reverence. As if he had been the one worried to death about Albert’s safety. As if it were he that scoured the face of Luna, trying to raise the funds, as if it were…
Franz buried his face in his hands for a moment, trying to gather himself. The way that Albert looked at the Count, even from that first moment; it drove Franz insane. They had known him a few short months, if “knowing” him was the right word, and yet Albert had an easy intimacy with him, as if they had been close for years. He dropped Franz like an old, unfavored toy the moment the Count beckoned. And it stung, it did.
If the Count had actually had Albert’s interests at heart, if he had actually been a friend…would he still be this consumed with jealously? Franz stared blankly down at the foreboding symbol he had sketched in his notes. The eyes stared back. Probably. But would he step aside, if he thought Albert could really be happy?
He already had. If either of them would admit it, Albert and Eugènie were in love. And Franz would never tear them from each other, ever. No matter how it stung to be the third wheel. But the Count…the Count was an entirely different matter.
Albert looked at Eugènie with love, when he remembered to, but she looked at him the same way. If there was anyone in the world who Franz knew cared for Albert the way he did, it was her. When Albert looked at the Count…there were blank eyes, compassionless eyes, looking back at him. And Albert didn’t seem to notice the difference.
Albert didn’t notice a great many things.
It had become dark. Franz rose to draw the curtains on the harbor, now lit with a sea of tiny points of light. He wasn’t crazy. The Count and Gankutsuou had to be linked. But as for what he wanted with Albert… Franz could almost taste it in the salt air. He was so close. The motive was just beyond his fingertips. He returned to his work with new resolve, shoving the jealousy, the hurt, into the back corner of his mind. He would save Albert de Morcerf, whether he wanted to be saved or not.
As for the Count?
He could go back to Hell.
Characters/Pairing: Albert de Morcerf/Franz d'Epinay
Prompt: 5, Envy
Word Count: 703
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Characters, situation, etc, not mine. Set in episode 16, so mild spoilers for anything before that point.
Author's Notes: An internal monologue to go with the "Wrath" prompt for Albert. More dialogue in the future, I promise. Oh, the angst.
Franz’s eyes hurt. He leaned back in the chair and stretched absently, hearing his spine crack more than feeling it. How long had he been sitting here? He shook his head and got up, looking out the window at the sea. The sun was setting and it had set the sky aflame, brilliant oranges and purples and reds. Summer in Marseilles. Beautiful.
But he couldn’t take it in; he couldn’t really see it. His thoughts were still whirling, always coming to rest on the stack of papers behind him, like a ball that kept rolling down to rest at the lowest point of its track. Gankutsuou… the Count must be becoming the monster. Or is the monster. Or…
His jaw clenched. Whatever the case, it meant that he had been right all along. The Count was bad news, for all of them. For Albert. Franz ran his fingers through his hair and sat down again, sifting through the notes. He would find the answer, and then get back to Paris. He knew it was there, if he just looked hard enough.
And he had to keep himself busy, after all. Because of the nagging voice at the back of his mind. The suspicion that his feelings about the Count, though proving more and more true with every step he took, didn’t come from observation or from cleverness. He hadn’t seen any evidence, right away, that the Count was anything more than eccentric, and that was certainly common enough in the aristocracy.
No, the thing that made him hunt down the Count’s origin, that drove him, mercilessly, was nothing so altruistic. Of course he wanted to keep Albert safe. Always. And yet…
Somehow, I had the feeling you would come.
He could still see Albert, shirt open, face covered in dirt, looking up at the Count in easy gratitude. With something close to adoration; reverence. As if he had been the one worried to death about Albert’s safety. As if it were he that scoured the face of Luna, trying to raise the funds, as if it were…
Franz buried his face in his hands for a moment, trying to gather himself. The way that Albert looked at the Count, even from that first moment; it drove Franz insane. They had known him a few short months, if “knowing” him was the right word, and yet Albert had an easy intimacy with him, as if they had been close for years. He dropped Franz like an old, unfavored toy the moment the Count beckoned. And it stung, it did.
If the Count had actually had Albert’s interests at heart, if he had actually been a friend…would he still be this consumed with jealously? Franz stared blankly down at the foreboding symbol he had sketched in his notes. The eyes stared back. Probably. But would he step aside, if he thought Albert could really be happy?
He already had. If either of them would admit it, Albert and Eugènie were in love. And Franz would never tear them from each other, ever. No matter how it stung to be the third wheel. But the Count…the Count was an entirely different matter.
Albert looked at Eugènie with love, when he remembered to, but she looked at him the same way. If there was anyone in the world who Franz knew cared for Albert the way he did, it was her. When Albert looked at the Count…there were blank eyes, compassionless eyes, looking back at him. And Albert didn’t seem to notice the difference.
Albert didn’t notice a great many things.
It had become dark. Franz rose to draw the curtains on the harbor, now lit with a sea of tiny points of light. He wasn’t crazy. The Count and Gankutsuou had to be linked. But as for what he wanted with Albert… Franz could almost taste it in the salt air. He was so close. The motive was just beyond his fingertips. He returned to his work with new resolve, shoving the jealousy, the hurt, into the back corner of his mind. He would save Albert de Morcerf, whether he wanted to be saved or not.
As for the Count?
He could go back to Hell.
