[she says, humoring him, unable to find her arms underneath all the soft blue. she pushes past, though, eventually, only to readjust the cloak on her shoulders some, her green mint hair caught on the collar.]
[in a moment, though, she reaches forward and pats his head - like she would to a puppy.]
You've grown a lot, Dimitri. [and an echo, perhaps, to a conversation they had before, five years ago.] I'm happy to hear you laugh again, even if it is at my expense.
[Suddenly her fingers are patting the top of his head, and Dimitri isn’t sure which emotion wins the battle to rise to the surface — a self-consciousness, a strange blossom of affection, or inherent gratitude.
He’s left with an amalgamation of all, and he glances up at her form — her hair, ridiculously entangled with white and black fur — and his blue-eyed gaze becomes more solemn, but grateful.]
If it were not for you, I would not be able to. Laugh, I mean. Or do much else.
[Other than to be lost to the darkness and the voices that accompanied it.]
A part of me thinks that I would not be standing here at all if you had not helped me. So I am grateful that I can enjoy moments like these with you, and even if they are... silly, they are all the more precious because of it.
[she pats his head a moment longer, until she catches up with the notion that he is complimenting her for being partly responsible of him being in better spirits. her eyes soften with a sort of sadness, her hand dropping from his head — not to fall to her side, but rather remain on his shoulder. dimitri has been so guarded, putting layer upon layer on himself in order to fend off not just the cold, but human contact that could otherwise put him at ease.]
[there's the fur of his cloak, then the cold armor. her fingers travel lightly over the shoulder plate, feeling the hard metal over her skin. byleth does not meet his eye, not just yet.]
[she leans down a bit and decidedly takes his hands, for although they are covered in gloves, they feel much warmer than the armor that covers most of him. one must always be battle-ready, of course. the moment she stands straight again, she does look him in the eyes.]
Any moment I spend with you is important to me.
[words have always been... difficult. but she's trying to express properly what she means. dimitri is someone she wishes to cherish, always.]
It is my wish to look after you, not just in battle. To share your pain and your success. [she nods] I would not mind going to Fhirdiad and being at your side.
[All very casual things that are normal to say to one another, yes.
Words that have his chest clenching again. If he had doubted that his feelings now were different than five years ago then... well, he would be right. He had admired her, was awe-struck by her, when he was seventeen. His thoughts often derailed by her beauty when he was supposed to be focusing diligently on a lecture, finding himself so uncharacteristically distracted. He is all of those things now, but five years ago, it was an infatuation that surely would have passed if the war had not existed, if they went their separate ways and he never saw her again.
Now? Now, standing here with her hand clasping his, feeling its warmth... now, he knows that is far stronger, something deeply rooted. Trying to remove it would be like removing a piece of his heart, their bond strengthened so much more by pain and overcoming that pain. The idea of returning to Fhirdiad and to act as Faerghus’ King while she remained elsewhere? He does not believe the passage of time would heal that hurt, not like it would have five years ago.
What a... terrifying thought. What a wonderful thought.
If only he could somehow enunciate that to her without sounding like a fool, without putting too much of himself on the line. Byleth says these things to him, but he wonders if—]
Thank you, Professor. [He’s a fool. He cannot bring himself to ask.] There is no one else that I would so dearly wish to have near, when that time comes.
[He gives her hand a squeeze, with the same pressure he feels around his heart. He looks down at their hands, smiling dimly.]
...you are always so warm, you know. I do not think the cold will be much of a problem at all.
[she offers in return, understanding completely well that getting a cloak wasn't off the table despite dimitri's insight on her being alright in the cold. it's at a moment like this that byleth feels a strength in their connection, a feeling so bold and wonderful, urged forward by the way that he returns the hold of her hands.]
[but these feelings are muddy. she cannot pin down exactly what they are, or what they mean, other than a strong want to protect and to care for and to love.]
[and so, continuing on with a smile, she slowly pulls away from dimitri's hands and undoes the cloak from around her shoulders, carefully holding it in front of her before handing it back to its rightful owner.]
[He takes his cloak back with a faint nod. Already, it scents like her. Dimitri holds it close to him, hanging over one arm, as if it were representative of this same promise.]
Yes. A promise. I... I am looking forward to it. Let it be a motivation to face each future battle with both fervor and fortune.
[He pauses, not wanting to leave, but if he didn’t force himself, he could just stand here with her all day.]
For now, I will get out of your hair. Unless there was anything else you needed from me?
[byleth realizes with some delay that they have spent a good amount of time together, between sparring and this conversation. part of her wishes to ask dimitri for — some help, some advice, or to simply discuss one or another intricacy of a battle ahead.]
[but she refrains.]
[instead, she hops off the chair, nods and smiles at him, her expression neutral as ever. she glances at her board, suddenly feeling like she's on the spot to try and give a good enough reason, as to avoid embarrassment from how they are cutting this short.]
I have to speak some matters with Seteth. [seems right] —but, I will see you later, Dimitri.
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finalflight2019-11-15 01:54 am
no subject
[she says, humoring him, unable to find her arms underneath all the soft blue. she pushes past, though, eventually, only to readjust the cloak on her shoulders some, her green mint hair caught on the collar.]
[in a moment, though, she reaches forward and pats his head - like she would to a puppy.]
You've grown a lot, Dimitri. [and an echo, perhaps, to a conversation they had before, five years ago.] I'm happy to hear you laugh again, even if it is at my expense.
no subject
He’s left with an amalgamation of all, and he glances up at her form — her hair, ridiculously entangled with white and black fur — and his blue-eyed gaze becomes more solemn, but grateful.]
If it were not for you, I would not be able to. Laugh, I mean. Or do much else.
[Other than to be lost to the darkness and the voices that accompanied it.]
A part of me thinks that I would not be standing here at all if you had not helped me. So I am grateful that I can enjoy moments like these with you, and even if they are... silly, they are all the more precious because of it.
no subject
[there's the fur of his cloak, then the cold armor. her fingers travel lightly over the shoulder plate, feeling the hard metal over her skin. byleth does not meet his eye, not just yet.]
[she leans down a bit and decidedly takes his hands, for although they are covered in gloves, they feel much warmer than the armor that covers most of him. one must always be battle-ready, of course. the moment she stands straight again, she does look him in the eyes.]
Any moment I spend with you is important to me.
[words have always been... difficult. but she's trying to express properly what she means. dimitri is someone she wishes to cherish, always.]
It is my wish to look after you, not just in battle. To share your pain and your success. [she nods] I would not mind going to Fhirdiad and being at your side.
[casual things friends say to each other, right?]
no subject
Words that have his chest clenching again. If he had doubted that his feelings now were different than five years ago then... well, he would be right. He had admired her, was awe-struck by her, when he was seventeen. His thoughts often derailed by her beauty when he was supposed to be focusing diligently on a lecture, finding himself so uncharacteristically distracted. He is all of those things now, but five years ago, it was an infatuation that surely would have passed if the war had not existed, if they went their separate ways and he never saw her again.
Now? Now, standing here with her hand clasping his, feeling its warmth... now, he knows that is far stronger, something deeply rooted. Trying to remove it would be like removing a piece of his heart, their bond strengthened so much more by pain and overcoming that pain. The idea of returning to Fhirdiad and to act as Faerghus’ King while she remained elsewhere? He does not believe the passage of time would heal that hurt, not like it would have five years ago.
What a... terrifying thought. What a wonderful thought.
If only he could somehow enunciate that to her without sounding like a fool, without putting too much of himself on the line. Byleth says these things to him, but he wonders if—]
Thank you, Professor. [He’s a fool. He cannot bring himself to ask.] There is no one else that I would so dearly wish to have near, when that time comes.
[He gives her hand a squeeze, with the same pressure he feels around his heart. He looks down at their hands, smiling dimly.]
...you are always so warm, you know. I do not think the cold will be much of a problem at all.
no subject
[she offers in return, understanding completely well that getting a cloak wasn't off the table despite dimitri's insight on her being alright in the cold. it's at a moment like this that byleth feels a strength in their connection, a feeling so bold and wonderful, urged forward by the way that he returns the hold of her hands.]
[but these feelings are muddy. she cannot pin down exactly what they are, or what they mean, other than a strong want to protect and to care for and to love.]
[and so, continuing on with a smile, she slowly pulls away from dimitri's hands and undoes the cloak from around her shoulders, carefully holding it in front of her before handing it back to its rightful owner.]
Then, it is a promise, for when the war is over.
no subject
Yes. A promise. I... I am looking forward to it. Let it be a motivation to face each future battle with both fervor and fortune.
[He pauses, not wanting to leave, but if he didn’t force himself, he could just stand here with her all day.]
For now, I will get out of your hair. Unless there was anything else you needed from me?
no subject
[but she refrains.]
[instead, she hops off the chair, nods and smiles at him, her expression neutral as ever. she glances at her board, suddenly feeling like she's on the spot to try and give a good enough reason, as to avoid embarrassment from how they are cutting this short.]
I have to speak some matters with Seteth. [seems right] —but, I will see you later, Dimitri.