[ Hilda would be lying if she said she didn't hear the implication in his voice. Along a similar vein she would be lying if she said a small part of her enjoyed hearing it. Even though she had resigned herself to her plan, had already begun to put the steps in place to create a separation so miniscule that it would be like nothing had changed between them, feelings so rarely evaporated overnight. This was more than that though. Knowing that she still mattered to him, or at the very least hearing it, sent a rush of warmth through her. The tips of her ears may be covered by her hair but that doesn't stop them from turning a pleasant pink.
Her cheeks puff up at the accusation that isn't actually one. Now it's her turn to protest. ]
I didn't say I didn't like them! They're nice bed warmers. [ There's a pause as her gaze flits to the Leosylph's lounging atop the cabinet in their makeshift bed. The faint clockwork tick she's had to become attuned to (the lizards proved to be grand, mischevious escape artists) over the last several weeks is a giveaway that Veliki, and by extension, Mali, are there too. ] But I guess they're cute.
[ As Claude begins his examination of her creation, Hilda feels the familiar creep of anxiety. This feeling never seemed to dim, no matter who it was looking at it. She had felt it when Alucard had helped her test her bracers, when Viktor had looked at her preliminary sketches. Hilda had even felt it when Raphael looked at the necklace had made for his sister. Praise — praise related to anything but her looks — always made her uncomfortable. As it stood, Claude should have been the person she felt the most comfortable around and therefore the person that she shouldn't feel any sort of trepidation with. And yet.
Of course he sees the etchings. And of course he asks along with a trademark smirk to tie it all together. Goddess she hated that smirk. There's a muttered comment about how there's plenty of necklaces that look like lanterns, it's nothing earth shattering just like how florals for a spring fashion line isn't groundbreaking. The comment is really just a mechanism for her to mull over whether or not to tell him since he had seen them. She could easily dismiss it as a design feature and nothing more — but for some reason outright lying about it didn't sit well with her. More of the truth is pulled reluctantly from her as she flops against the pillow to her right. It's less a flop of despair and more her trying to hide the book that was stuffed behind the cushion. ]
Maybe. I just haven't decided what yet. Or how. Mostly they're just designs I thought might be cute.
no subject
Her cheeks puff up at the accusation that isn't actually one. Now it's her turn to protest. ]
I didn't say I didn't like them! They're nice bed warmers. [ There's a pause as her gaze flits to the Leosylph's lounging atop the cabinet in their makeshift bed. The faint clockwork tick she's had to become attuned to (the lizards proved to be grand, mischevious escape artists) over the last several weeks is a giveaway that Veliki, and by extension, Mali, are there too. ] But I guess they're cute.
[ As Claude begins his examination of her creation, Hilda feels the familiar creep of anxiety. This feeling never seemed to dim, no matter who it was looking at it. She had felt it when Alucard had helped her test her bracers, when Viktor had looked at her preliminary sketches. Hilda had even felt it when Raphael looked at the necklace had made for his sister. Praise — praise related to anything but her looks — always made her uncomfortable. As it stood, Claude should have been the person she felt the most comfortable around and therefore the person that she shouldn't feel any sort of trepidation with. And yet.
Of course he sees the etchings. And of course he asks along with a trademark smirk to tie it all together. Goddess she hated that smirk. There's a muttered comment about how there's plenty of necklaces that look like lanterns, it's nothing earth shattering just like how florals for a spring fashion line isn't groundbreaking. The comment is really just a mechanism for her to mull over whether or not to tell him since he had seen them. She could easily dismiss it as a design feature and nothing more — but for some reason outright lying about it didn't sit well with her. More of the truth is pulled reluctantly from her as she flops against the pillow to her right. It's less a flop of despair and more her trying to hide the book that was stuffed behind the cushion. ]
Maybe. I just haven't decided what yet. Or how. Mostly they're just designs I thought might be cute.