[ If someone stopped to ask Hilda if she had somehow orchestrated this somehow, she'd ask them in return if they thinks she's either Sylvain or Claude - which is really a roundabout way of saying no. Those that know her are aware that she doesn't quite plan that far ahead, preferring to keep her plans to whatever her whims are in the moment.
What wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination however is assuming that she may have been planning this the moment Sylvain's shirt had fallen to the floor. She knows exactly what she's doing by wielding her teasing like an axe. Her calculated show of reluctance to remove her own clothes and take down her updo, all while playing into the knowledge that Claude loved playing with her hair, has all culminated into the thing she had been after in the first place: avoiding doing the work of undressing herself.
...And the attention and company is nice too.
Caught up in mentally patting her own back, she almost misses Claude's affectionate look. When she does see it however it short circuits her brain too, but not in the way it normally does. Thanks to the happy haze of alcohol, she mistakes it for something else, considers it him simply enjoying the time with Sylvain and the chance to take her hair down. Languidly she reaches a hand out to trace nebulous shapes along Claude's bicep, exhaling a quiet, content sigh as Sylvain's fingers trace the curves of her waist. Now that she's the one sandwiched between them, it's impossible to ignore the heat radiating off of them. ]
He's not doing that bad. But if you see him doing something wrong, you could correct him. [ There's a grin in her voice, a fondness there for the two of them that is unmistakable. Her nose bumps playfully against Sylvain's, sweet breath tickling his cheek as she leans back into him. ] After you help me get my dress the rest of the way off that is.
[ It still sits bunched around her hips and will probably take a little bit of shimmying to get it off. Pink eyes lock onto green ones again, mischievous and teasing. ]
no subject
What wouldn't be a stretch of the imagination however is assuming that she may have been planning this the moment Sylvain's shirt had fallen to the floor. She knows exactly what she's doing by wielding her teasing like an axe. Her calculated show of reluctance to remove her own clothes and take down her updo, all while playing into the knowledge that Claude loved playing with her hair, has all culminated into the thing she had been after in the first place: avoiding doing the work of undressing herself.
...And the attention and company is nice too.
Caught up in mentally patting her own back, she almost misses Claude's affectionate look. When she does see it however it short circuits her brain too, but not in the way it normally does. Thanks to the happy haze of alcohol, she mistakes it for something else, considers it him simply enjoying the time with Sylvain and the chance to take her hair down. Languidly she reaches a hand out to trace nebulous shapes along Claude's bicep, exhaling a quiet, content sigh as Sylvain's fingers trace the curves of her waist. Now that she's the one sandwiched between them, it's impossible to ignore the heat radiating off of them. ]
He's not doing that bad. But if you see him doing something wrong, you could correct him. [ There's a grin in her voice, a fondness there for the two of them that is unmistakable. Her nose bumps playfully against Sylvain's, sweet breath tickling his cheek as she leans back into him. ] After you help me get my dress the rest of the way off that is.
[ It still sits bunched around her hips and will probably take a little bit of shimmying to get it off. Pink eyes lock onto green ones again, mischievous and teasing. ]
Claude might enjoy the show too.