Fayt watches Albel sleep as they both rest in a forest.
Poetry was a forest. That, and an occasional breeze whistling through the trees. Fayt never thought such a thing until he was actually in a forest near Aquios. He also decided that poetry was the cool earth under his back. He'd have to wash his shirt once he reached the city, but he figured that could wait for right now. Especially since Albel was right next to him. All that could be heard of the Glyphian warrior was his breath. Fayt opened his eyes and turned towards his dark haired companion.
He looks peaceful when he actually sleeps. Fayt smiled as the sunlight painted itself on the leaves. He had seen many beautiful things in the universe, but for some reason, this moment topped everything. Maybe it was because of the simplicity of the underdeveloped planet, or maybe it was because no noise of industry came near this place. Or maybe, it was because he could feel Albel's warm, slender body inches away from him.
"I think I've discovered what perfection is," Fayt said, studying Albel's almost delicate features. When the elder man didn't say anything, he decided to elaborate a little but. "Just being here, watching the sun make shadow puppets out the trees, listening to nothing but the wind while we're this close together. This defines it, don't you think?"
Albel opened his crimson eyes. "Shut up, maggot! Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?"
Fayt chuckled. He figured his companion would say something like that. What he didn't figure, however, was that Albel the Wicked was smiling too.