[ Neither the grass suddenly flying nor the outburst following it he senses before it happens are enough to make him flinch or avert his gaze from where it rests on Sylvain. There's the sense of familiarity in this, though, and it only takes a second of searching his memories: back to a time where aggravation led him to push too far and Sylvain had lashed out then, too. Same application, same results - but not the same reasons.
It does bring something else into focus within abrupt clarity as he thinks back on that time. Then it'd been brought about by something he hadn't learned until later, that fear of Sylvain's of being somewhere enclosed and damp and one that'd been surrendered with reluctance. If Claude connects that dot to this one, he's fairly certain it's not his own brand of logic making it clear there's something else beneath the temper now when it goes against all that easygoingness the other so often wears.
And if that's the case, even if he's telling himself resolutely to not attach any hopes to the possibility they're concealing the same things, then it's time to put his own fears aside for a minute, take a deep breath, and try again with the trust that if he does: it'll mean something. ]
I don't want anything from you but you, Sylvain. Maybe you aren't the only one who doesn't know how to do better without knowing where something is going first. [ That particular admission is enough to get him to reach for the grass tossed his way to give himself something to do, even though this blade of grass hardly is one after going through Sylvain's fingers first. ] Or what that looks like here either without knowing if that's what you also want, or if you're trying to say none of it meant anything.
[ Though there's some attempt to sound as nonchalant as ever - it's not a very good or believable one as he keeps his eyes now on the grass. If Sylvain's impulse from before is to show an insecurity externally, Claude's is to turn it inward where most might not notice it. Even if Sylvain's more observant than he pretends to be, and even if his hopes on that succeeding are low. ]
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It does bring something else into focus within abrupt clarity as he thinks back on that time. Then it'd been brought about by something he hadn't learned until later, that fear of Sylvain's of being somewhere enclosed and damp and one that'd been surrendered with reluctance. If Claude connects that dot to this one, he's fairly certain it's not his own brand of logic making it clear there's something else beneath the temper now when it goes against all that easygoingness the other so often wears.
And if that's the case, even if he's telling himself resolutely to not attach any hopes to the possibility they're concealing the same things, then it's time to put his own fears aside for a minute, take a deep breath, and try again with the trust that if he does: it'll mean something. ]
I don't want anything from you but you, Sylvain. Maybe you aren't the only one who doesn't know how to do better without knowing where something is going first. [ That particular admission is enough to get him to reach for the grass tossed his way to give himself something to do, even though this blade of grass hardly is one after going through Sylvain's fingers first. ] Or what that looks like here either without knowing if that's what you also want, or if you're trying to say none of it meant anything.
[ Though there's some attempt to sound as nonchalant as ever - it's not a very good or believable one as he keeps his eyes now on the grass. If Sylvain's impulse from before is to show an insecurity externally, Claude's is to turn it inward where most might not notice it. Even if Sylvain's more observant than he pretends to be, and even if his hopes on that succeeding are low. ]