[She is difficult to miss, Dimitri thinks, and he can never be sure if it is the bright, unusual color of her hair, or the determination behind her walk, that draws his attention to her. Small frame not withstanding, there had always been something magnetizing about Byleth, a truth he’s accepted ever since the day they met — just young students seeking protection from bandits on that fateful evening that brought her into the service of Garreg Mach.
Maybe it’s something altogether different, an aura that he’ll never be able to quantify or pin down. As she makes a beeline through the cathedral, each step echoing through once-hallowed halls, he doesn’t think he’ll ever know exactly what it is.
But that mysterious something is headed right in his direction today.
He blinks, turning to face her properly, and on instinct straightens (five years’ habit of sloping his shoulders inward while alone, unapproachable body language, was hard to break) like he has a rod in his back when she’s near. What could she want? Has she news of a new development in the war? Her attention is definitely saved for him right now, and some silly part of him sucks in breath with the tiniest spark of anticipatory anxiety—
And then he sees the ribbon. —ah.]
Professor...
[He has been through this before, though the effort reminds him more of his days as a seventeen year-old. Some things never change, and the Professor’s determination to usher lost items back to their owners is one of them. He can’t stop this attempt — he knows it, even as she presses that ribbon against his armor and scrutinizes it with a frown.]
Sorry, Professor, that isn’t mine. [He adds, confirming what she’s already figured out. She looks up at him, like she has something more to say, and Dimitri appears expectant. ???? what is it, Byleth.... your ex-students never know until you blurt it out half the time.
Training, though! He nods at her, assuredly.]
Oh, yes. I had not forgotten. [Dimitri has remembered; training with the professor is a welcome activity, one that he has looked forward to often when it’s his “turn” on whatever schedule she’s made up in her head.]
Swords today, correct? Will it just be you and me?
no subject
Maybe it’s something altogether different, an aura that he’ll never be able to quantify or pin down. As she makes a beeline through the cathedral, each step echoing through once-hallowed halls, he doesn’t think he’ll ever know exactly what it is.
But that mysterious something is headed right in his direction today.
He blinks, turning to face her properly, and on instinct straightens (five years’ habit of sloping his shoulders inward while alone, unapproachable body language, was hard to break) like he has a rod in his back when she’s near. What could she want? Has she news of a new development in the war? Her attention is definitely saved for him right now, and some silly part of him sucks in breath with the tiniest spark of anticipatory anxiety—
And then he sees the ribbon. —ah.]
Professor...
[He has been through this before, though the effort reminds him more of his days as a seventeen year-old. Some things never change, and the Professor’s determination to usher lost items back to their owners is one of them. He can’t stop this attempt — he knows it, even as she presses that ribbon against his armor and scrutinizes it with a frown.]
Sorry, Professor, that isn’t mine. [He adds, confirming what she’s already figured out. She looks up at him, like she has something more to say, and Dimitri appears expectant. ???? what is it, Byleth.... your ex-students never know until you blurt it out half the time.
Training, though! He nods at her, assuredly.]
Oh, yes. I had not forgotten. [Dimitri has remembered; training with the professor is a welcome activity, one that he has looked forward to often when it’s his “turn” on whatever schedule she’s made up in her head.]
Swords today, correct? Will it just be you and me?