He looks down to where Gellert touched his robes, unable to stop the immediate stiffening of his body. There was a time when he would have warmed to Gellert's gestures, enjoying every brush of his skin against his own. But he's cut himself off from intimate physical contact in the years since, adopting a more monkish existence with his sole purpose in life the education and well being of his students. Gellert is right, however. He remembers how it felt to finally meet someone who wanted what he wanted, no matter how taboo. It had been a breath of fresh air, the moment when everything made sense. It's difficult to keep from longing for that same feeling, especially when the person who made it all possible was standing in front of him, unchanged by time.
"I remember," Albus says, his words softening. "It was a locket. The charm would only trigger when a specific touch was pressed upon it. If I remember, there was more than the weaving of the charm we found beautiful."
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"I remember," Albus says, his words softening. "It was a locket. The charm would only trigger when a specific touch was pressed upon it. If I remember, there was more than the weaving of the charm we found beautiful."