"Allen,"
The boy looked up from his knees at his drunk master laid against the stem of a dead tree.
It was a cold night and the wind was chilly. They had nowhere else to stay but the woods, since Cross was deeply in debt with every bar and every inn within the only close-by city.
"Yes, master?"
Cross hesitated for a while. He looked at his apprentice through the fire they lit and sighed.
"Allen, give me the bottle."
"Eeeehh?" frowned the boy.
He colouldn't understand how Cross could drink so much. The general had been drinking the whole day. Allen was convinced that if his master had any more alcohol he wouldn't wake up for days. And that would be so uncool.
"Brat... the bottle." demanded the general, once again.
The white-haired then glared and made no mention of handing the bag or any bottle to his master.
"No," he said firmly.
Confusion and anger flashed through Cross' eyes, but Allen would be strong and take care of his master. No more drinking, even if meant disobeying the man.
"No." he repeated
Cross fell silent for a moment and watched as Allen got on his feet and kneeled down beside him, close to the fire.
He placed a gloved hand over his master's gloved one and looked resolutely at the other's eyes.
"You are so selfish, master."
Confusion was still present within the general's look and a frown took place.
"You always drink a lot, and when you wake up you always have headaches. I am always worrying about master, but master seems to only think of me as a helping-hand to pay-off debts."
Allen was pouting and Cross' frown deepened.
"Master doesn't seem to care about his health, but I do care about master, so I won't get you any more alcohol."
The boy grasped the gloved hand under his and looked down, shaking slightly.
"This is because... this is because I love you so much that I will take care you, master, so I can always be with you" he finally said, blushing.
When Allen decided to look up at his master's face, the man had his eyes wide opened and his mouth was gapping. The boy wondered if Cross was speechlees after his confession, but the fact that his master's face was rather pale didn't make Allen feel so safe. Suddenly, Cross' shaky hands and arms made his way to Allen's frame and grasped the boy's shoulder.
He seemed to be in pain - Allen thought so.
In a last effort, the man mumbled,
"Allen... the bottle..."
And gasped, and coughed, and fell unconscious on Allen's lap.
The boy didn't expect that. Why would Cross insist on asking for a bottle 'till he passed out? It's not like they had any more alcohol in the bag, anyway.
"Oh... no..."
Then it all made sense for Allen. The bottle with the pain-killer. Oh, poor master.