[ There's a split second in which Claude recognizes what it is Hilda's about to do when she reaches forward, but in that moment it's already too late for him to react. His face meeting the mud is somehow both surprising and not, and he's more determined than ever to not give Hilda the satisfaction of any reaction when he sits back up and wipes it away to be able to see.
He'd been aware of Sylvain's movement, but the sudden outburst has even Claude freezing in place. His gaze falls upon the other man in an instant as he starts to open his mouth to say - something, an apology but to him alone, maybe, though there's no time to even get one syllable out before they're lambasted.
Deservedly, Claude can admit (to himself), which makes the words smart all the more when they land as intended. Sylvain stands then moves to get out of the tub and he's still at a loss for words. It doesn't matter since then they're left alone in the mud by themselves.
Sylvain's right that this was a bad idea since they couldn't even get it together enough to make it through one treatment of the many that'd been planned for this trip. They really were supposed to be better than this, and that only intensifies the resentment that he doesn't even know where to direct. It starts with a withering look sent Hilda's direction; it both feels right and not, but he's not focusing on the latter. Having nothing to say had been more of an insult than anything else at the time, and now? Now he finds he means it.
When Claude pulls apart the tangled and knotted up feelings later on in the night after returning home, he'll find guilt for things turning out this way, irritation for both being at fault here and not the only one who caused it, and most importantly of all: that incredible ache of loss that'd taken root in his chest after their fight and refused to dislodge its thorns ever since. Each day that goes by without them speaking causes another one to appear, but he doesn't want to fix it.
It's not enough now to convince him to do anything other than climb out of the tub himself to not only move onto something else him but also leave Hilda behind with her own thoughts. Because whatever they are, Claude tells himself in yet another lie as he grabs his towel and exits, he certainly doesn't care. ]
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He'd been aware of Sylvain's movement, but the sudden outburst has even Claude freezing in place. His gaze falls upon the other man in an instant as he starts to open his mouth to say - something, an apology but to him alone, maybe, though there's no time to even get one syllable out before they're lambasted.
Deservedly, Claude can admit (to himself), which makes the words smart all the more when they land as intended. Sylvain stands then moves to get out of the tub and he's still at a loss for words. It doesn't matter since then they're left alone in the mud by themselves.
Sylvain's right that this was a bad idea since they couldn't even get it together enough to make it through one treatment of the many that'd been planned for this trip. They really were supposed to be better than this, and that only intensifies the resentment that he doesn't even know where to direct. It starts with a withering look sent Hilda's direction; it both feels right and not, but he's not focusing on the latter. Having nothing to say had been more of an insult than anything else at the time, and now? Now he finds he means it.
When Claude pulls apart the tangled and knotted up feelings later on in the night after returning home, he'll find guilt for things turning out this way, irritation for both being at fault here and not the only one who caused it, and most importantly of all: that incredible ache of loss that'd taken root in his chest after their fight and refused to dislodge its thorns ever since. Each day that goes by without them speaking causes another one to appear, but he doesn't want to fix it.
It's not enough now to convince him to do anything other than climb out of the tub himself to not only move onto something else him but also leave Hilda behind with her own thoughts. Because whatever they are, Claude tells himself in yet another lie as he grabs his towel and exits, he certainly doesn't care. ]