abraxaslogs | maybe i'm a mess

[ He arches an eyebrow at her as he carries her towards his bed, bending to roll them both onto the mattress as he toes off his shoes. ]

Are you gonna tell me what's bothering you?

[ Fair's fair, Hilda. He'll trade you. ]

[ As he works his own shoes off she tumbles gracefully beside him, wiggling her own feet — a clear sign that she's hoping he'll help her unlace her boots too. The boots in question happen to be reminiscent of her boots from home: just cresting the bottom of her thighs but with laces that made them a pain to take on and off.

Playing the innocent, delicate flower card isn't going to fool him anymore, but it serves her in this moment. She blinks innocently, the expression on her face not budging. ]

I told you already, it's this job offer from Alucard. There's nothing else bothering me except maybe the other jewelry projects I'm working on.

Edited (typoooo) 2023-06-03 06:43 (UTC)

[ Sylvain obligingly shifts up over her where she's sprawled on her mattress, sliding his hands up the length of her boots to start unlacing them. With relative ease, even, despite their complicated appearance. Doesn't mean he can't tease her at the same time. And he intends to do so.

Besides. He just really has a thing for boots like this. And if Hilda's giving him an excuse to get handsy, he's gonna take it. ]

Mmm. I might have believed that, if something hadn't clearly been off for a while now. And before Alucard would have offered you this job, I'm certain. You've been dancing around something evasively for weeks now, Hilda.

[ Yeah, he's just gonna call you out bluntly, now that he has you where he wants you. ]

[ When Hilda had dressed that morning she hadn't expected this particular scenario to play out or for things to take a turn like this. She still recalled Claude's recap of his date with Sylvain in Aquila and how he had seemed to particularly enjoy the boots they had chosen that evening. At the time she had stored that tidbit about Sylvain away in her memory along with all the other, "this might be useful in the future" facts. She remembers it now, propping up on her elbows regarding the red head as he begins to work the laces of the first boot.

She's always had a curious nature that bled into mischievous, but she had never been in a strange scenario like this where someone she was attracted to was clearly with a friend even if both of them wouldn't admit it. But was it crossing a line if she was just going to test the fact she had learned about Sylvain in an attempt to wriggle out of this line of questioning? Maybe the boots had to be attached to a particular person - and if that was the case, that was fine too even if there was a pang of something at the thought.

When Sylvain is done with the first boot, she'll slowly extend her other leg, not so accidentally brushing it against his cheek as she rolls her eyes. ]

I told you I've had other projects I've been working on - like our renovations? Not to mention figuring out where Veliki came from. And Mali has eight new baby lizards on the way - I'm going to have to find them good homes to go to.

[ His reaction to the move is almost instantaneous, hand snaking up to catch her by the ankle in a firm grip. Knowing exactly what she's trying to do - having seduction wielded against him as a weapon is as familiar as breathing, even if her intention is distraction rather than anything more calculated than that. But for a moment, there's something sharp in his smile, a glint in dark eyes. An automatic slip into a persona he's worked very hard not to wear since coming to Cadens.

But just as quickly as it comes, he shrugs it off, forcing it away with a mental shake of himself as he reminds himself that Hilda is the last person to warrant that slip. So instead, almost in silent apology for something he doubts she even realizes happened, he slides his hands up along her boot-clad calf and up to her thigh. Taking his time and unlacing this one with deliberate movements, hooded eyes locked on her face the entire time. As he eases the boot down the length of her leg, his fingers skim against the warm skin exposed with each inch. And he turns his head slightly, still keeping her leg trapped in place as he presses a kiss to the inside of her knee, still holding her gaze.

Only when he's removed it does he answer her, his voice a low croon, one corner of his lips quirk up in a knowing smirk. ]

All things that would keep you very occupied, I'm sure. And if I thought it was just your mind spinning out in circles, I'd believe that excuse. But it's not that that's been setting you off. Not when you've been perfectly fine until something triggers the switch and I can practically see the walls you slam into place. The mental step back you take. What's going on, Hilda?

[ The look doesn't go unnoticed as he might have hoped. She can be observant when she wants to be. Or maybe in this particular case it's because she's watching him to see how he'll react. A jagged, sharp look sparks in his handsome face and there's something dark in that smile of his that she isn't used to seeing. Her body tenses as his hand grips her ankle.

Even after it disappears, it sticks in her brain the way Claude's observation about thigh high boots had. Maybe it's nothing. But it's probably something and she feels simultaneous emotions; an odd mix of guilt, a feeling that she's done something wrong - no, worse. That she's disappointed him somehow. The knot in her stomach lingers even as he presses a kiss to her knee sending warmth up her leg and colour to her cheeks.

Finally she lets out a small breath that sounds like a brief laugh. ]

Am I that easy to read? What do you think is going on?

I think…

[ He begins, that smirk lingering as he places another kiss just above the previous one. A little higher than before. Barely broaching her inner thigh - not enough to be entirely indecent, but certainly more intimate. His lips linger there, warm against her skin, even as his eyes remain locked with hers. Watchful and assessing. ]

I think you’ve been avoiding us. Something’s been upsetting you. I’m just not sure if it’s something I’ve done, or Claude. And if it’s me, I wish you’d at least tell me where I’ve fucked up so I can try and fix it.

[ Since he tends to assume he’s at fault out of habit. Usually because he is. ]

[ It's astonishing how she's able to keep her face in a mostly composed look even as Sylvain creeps higher up the length of her leg. The long skirt she had donned that morning is bunched up, resting just inches above where Sylvain's lips currently are.

She can feel the warmth from before creeping up the back of her neck but she holds his gaze, assessing him just as much as he's assessing her, focused mostly on what he's saying instead of what he's doing. What she doesn't expect is for him to assume that he's the one that's done something to wrong her. Her gaze softens, a different guilt than the one from before washing over her. ]

What? You dummy - neither of you have fucked up or done anything wrong.

[ And that's the truth, because in her mind, she's the one who's being a burden. Reluctantly she unhitches her leg from over his shoulder, motioning for him, so she can wrap her arms around him to hold him from behind. It feels awful to sidestep the truth, but how is she meant to tell him that she's just sad? Sad that she feels like she has no place here with them, that she's simply a decoration hanging on a wall for as long as they'll let her or until they grow bored? Or worse - they let her stay out of obligation. And how is she supposed to tell him that as happy as she is for Claude, she's hurt for a myriad of reasons that 'hurt' barely begins to cover; but that simply won't do because feeling sad and hurt isn't very 'delicate flower' of her. She's only ever had looking pretty and being a good friend to stand on and feeling hurt cancels that out, doesn't it? ]

Everything that's happened has just been...a lot. I thought you'd both want more space. I can't relate to anything either of you went through.

[ A partial truth. ]

[ He continues watching her, tasting her emotions in search of a lie. Unsure of what, exactly, he’s picking up from her, he shifts in closer instead, wrapping his arms around her and nudging her back onto the mattress where he can curl up around her.

He presses a faint kiss to the top of her head before propping his chin there, tucking her in against his chest. ]

For once, I’m really glad you can’t relate. I would never have wished that place on you. But I had plenty of space in the hospital, Hilda. I don’t need more. I’ve missed you. And I know you’re busy - I’m not trying to cut into that or make you more stressed about everything you have on your plate right now. I just… feel like I’ve barely gotten to see you since we’ve moved.

[ Maybe it was foolish of him, to have thought the three of them moving in together would mean even more time shared together with one another. Instead, he felt like the two of them were both somehow pulling away, too busy to hang around here. Or maybe just not interested in the same thing. He wasn’t sure what to think about that yet. But it was hard to be anything but disappointed about it. ]

[ At first she almost tells him that he's being silly; she hasn't gone anywhere. Not really. Not on purpose. She was still flitting in and out of the loft, carefully balancing spending time with them when she felt like she could stomach it and when she thought they needed space. Wasn't there some kind of saying about how three was considered a crowd? Wasn't quietly removing herself supposed to be a good thing for them?

But hearing Sylvain express that he had missed her, sends a myriad of emotions through her. Surprise, because she had thought that Claude's presence would be more than enough, and two, shock that somehow her absence had developed some kind of doubt in Sylvain. More guilt falls onto the quickly growing pile as a fracture of something else ripples through her heart. Her arms wrap around him, protectively as much as it is apologetic as she casts a brief look up at him, eyes full of remorse. ]

Sylvain, I'm never too busy for you. I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. I didn't mean to. I just thought that —

[ Thought that it was better if they saw less of her because how else was she meant to slowly smother the feelings she had been developing? Her voice quiets reflecting her own uncertainty when it came to her so called plan. ]

I just thought that it would be the best choice. [ She attempts to crack a joke even though it's the opposite of what she's trying to achieve and doesn't land whatsoever. ] And you know what they say, abscene makes the heart grow fonder.

[ He gives a quiet chuckle at that, squeezing her tighter. ]

If I grew any fonder of you, princess, my heart might explode.

[ But he does pull back a moment later, sliding a finger under her chin and tipping her head back so he can search her face again. That wording stands out. ]

The best choice for what?

[ Because that, he thinks, might be at the heart of whatever all this is. ]

What are you even saying?

[ A wave of embarrassment immediately crashes over her and she has to burrow her face into his chest. The laugh that accompanies her response is less about laughing at him for a cheesy line, but because she doesn't know how else to react for fear that somehow that line is sincere.

Her embarrassment unfortunately can't be concealed for much longer when she feels him tilt her chin up so that they're looking at each other once again. There's a notable beat of silence in response to his question in part because she isn't sure what to say, how to phrase it, or even if she wanted to say it.

Hadn't avoiding this very conversation in the hopes that they wouldn't notice the whole point? Somehow, some version of an answer manages to force its way past her lips. ]

The best choice considering the circumstances, I guess.

[ That's as clear as mud, honestly, and he makes a quiet sound of frustration a moment before he rolls her over onto her back on the mattress and pins her there beneath him, his dark gaze intent on her face. ]

What circumstances, Hilda? What changed?

[ A small squeak leaves her mouth at the sudden change of positions. There's no sign of the dark spark from earlier, but that doesn't mean her heart isn't hammering in her chest all the same.

"Nothing" is so easily accessible and on the tip of her tongue. But some of the truth has already spilled out. "Nothing" would possibly incite more frustration and ire. "Nothing" would be considered a lie and they had promised they wouldn't lie to one another anymore even if that promise had been made what feels like eons ago at an Academy they couldn't go back to. But dredging up all the awful feelings that had been brewing in her heart doesn't feel like the right thing to do either.

She didn't want to be a burden to anyone - not this kind of burden anyway. Not when she knew how good Sylvain and Claude were together. Much like every imagined future she thought up before tossing it out the window, she folds up these too: anything negative, anything in relation to them, is folded smaller and smaller before she swallows them whole.

A smile flutters onto her face, arranged and practiced in a way that's made to look like it's fine. ]

Three's a crowd, right? At least I think that's the saying. I just don't want to make you two feel like you have to hang out with me or have me around all the time. Those kind of circumstances.

[ That smile doesn't fool him a bit. he's too used to seeing it - or wearing it.

But her answer...

He blinks down at her for a moment, as if waiting for a punchline. When it doesn't come, he blinks again. ]

...Are you kidding me right now? Hilda, if anyone's a third wheel around here, it's me.

[ There's only a split second of confusion that manages to make its way into her expression. Sylvain can likely pick up on the fact that the confusion lingers there for a moment, genuine and true, even as her smile settles back onto her face. Her eyes search him as if this is some kind of joke. ]

Why would you be the third wheel? Claude and I aren't together.

[ No need to dive into the details of her feelings or Claude's lack of. Based on what she knows when it comes to Sylvain and Petra, if anything was there, it would have happened by now. ]

[ Sylvain just arches an eyebrow at her, looking amused at that outrageous claim. ]

Claude and you have been together since the day I first laid eyes on you. Either way, you still have a way deeper claim on him than I do. Or ever will. Claude and I aren't together, Hilda. We've hooked up a few times and we've flirted for a while, yeah, but not the way you're thinking.

[ Is it rude to laugh at someone who's also being genuine? Hilda's going to go with no, it isn't because Sylvain looks like she's the one who said the most outrageous, funny thing in the world.

Unless there had been something else in Sylvain's timeline that he was withholding, none of what he was saying was making any sense. Hilda's expression becomes a mirror of Sylvain's but mixed in is a healthy dose of disbelief. Her voice can't help but drip in sarcasm. ]

Okay, Sylvain. We might have been "together" [ And here her hands slither up to create actual quotation signs. She's purposefully vague, purposefully breezy because that's how it's always been when it comes to anyone bringing up Claude. ] but we aren't now.

[ Sylvain just cocks his head to the side as he studies her, his gaze thoughtful, rather than dissuaded by her flippant response at all. ]

And why not? Do you want to be?

[ He's pretty sure he already knows the answer to that. She's really not as good a lair as she pretends to be. ]

I might have once [ And that, he'll feel backed with a startling amount of certainty because at the very least she can admit to some level of school girl crush. ] but that was years ago, Sylvain.

[ Sylvain might be used to dealing with better liars, but she had her own reasons for honing her own ability. And like Sylvain said, she had been by Claude's side since they had set foot on the grounds of Garreg Mach. What better way to learn how to spin tails? ]

It would never make sense.

[ He eyes her a moment longer before letting a hand slide up to cup against her cheek, thumb sliding lightly against the warm skin there. ]

Who said feelings ever made sense? Why would you even want it to? Sense is boring.

[ The answer is so Sylvain that she can't help but let out a laugh in spite of everything they're talking about. Instinctively she leans into his touch, her hand cupping his. He isn't wrong, and it's the sort of thing she would say if she were in his position.

But she has to disagree because it concerns her. Throwing herself into the mix has already proven that it doesn't make any sense and it was easier for her to try and accept this truth than something less tangible. ]

Normally I'd agree with you but trust me on this one, okay? [ She musters a smile before bringing his hand to meet her lips in a brief kiss. ] I think Claude would agree with me too.

I do trust you.

[ It's said with absolute honesty, because it's true. he slides a thumb against the softness of her lips, holding her gaze. Despite her words, he can feel an ache, a sadness, which is clue enough there's something more here, even if she's being stubbornly in denial over it.

But he lets it go, leaning down to press a kiss to her brow. ]

I just still think you're wrong.

[ ...okay, he mostly let it go. ]

But I'll drop it for now. I did promise you a nap, after all.

[ She can hear the conviction in his voice and it tugs at her heart. Trust was so important to him, just as important as it was to Claude, but she didn't want to think about him now. All she wanted to do was hold that trust close to her chest and treasure it the best way she could.

Hilda's eyes flutter closed at the touch of Sylvain's lips against her forehead, a small quiet sigh escaping in the process. A hint of longing bleeds into it, longing that had also been inadvertently packed away into a box along with her feelings for Claude because that too had somehow been the appropriate response to dealing with her emotions as of late.

There's a hum of agreement at the mention of the nap. Her arms gently drape around his neck, her bare legs hooking around his hips so she can turn him to his side and onto the bed. She wriggles her arms around his midsection so she can curl around him, effectively becoming the (very rare) big spoon. It's easier this way to hide the expression on her face. ]

You did. [ A kiss is pressed to his back. ] You're going to stay and nap too, right?

[ He just clasps her smaller hands in his, tucking them in against his chest. His lips quirk into a faint smile as he gives them a squeeze, even though he knows she can't see it from where she's pressed against his back. ]

I'm not going anywhere, Hilda. Get some rest.

maybe i'm a mess

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