abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] the dawn is opening

[ The sudden stillness catches him entirely off-guard. It's not difficult to pinpoint it exactly to what he'd said, though the why behind that is a mystery.

What's no mystery at all is feeling something like tension creep in as nothing's said. He's quick to smooth away the furrow in his brow he can feel before Sylvain pulls back to be able to see it, and just as wordlessly Claude studies him right back as they look at each other.

The hesitancy in that question hurts a little, but not as much as that Sylvain pretends (sort of) like there's nothing attached to that. Like he almost believes his own nonchalance - or expects Claude to even if he sees right through that. Months of time with each other would've made it clear it was an act if not for it being a similar tool they both have tucked away in their kits to pull out as a misdirection.

Except, Claude thinks as Sylvain pulls away to put an intentional distance between them as slight as it is, it's far from enough to make him back away. ]

I wasn't planning on teasing you by mentioning something and then not using it, if that's what you're asking.

[ It's not and Claude knows it without needing to be told otherwise, but there's enough unknowns that on this, he's actually unsure of whether to press for them or to make the assumption on what it's supposed to mean. Perhaps it wouldn't be the worst to pass on his turn for that to see what Sylvain says next and whether it'll reveal anything. ]

[ His gaze drops to the vicinity of Claude's chest for a moment, a mixture of tension in his own form as well as ahint of shame at the note in Claude's voice as he replies to that.

He doesn't answer that it wouldn't be the first time he's had to wade through that option - Claude doesn't need to know that, and besides, that doesn't really affect here and now. Claude, he reminds himself for the hundredth time, isn't like any of those that had come before.

Of course, that's only partially comforting, because that means Sylvain spends half the time trying to figure out what the fuck is happening between them at any given moment when he has no frame of reference for it. ]

Well, I know how much you like to tease. [ He knows the joke will fall flat even before he finishes uttering it. Which is why he just sighs and lets his gaze flit back up to meet Claude's gaze. That hint of uncertainty is still there, but it's dampened somewhat. Waiting. ]

That's not what I'm asking. Not really. But I know how important Hilda is to you. I figured... we'd have to have some sort of discussion about it at some point soon. She told me you guys were working through things a few days ago.

[ Nothing about Sylvain's reaction does anything but heighten his slowly growing unease. It's furthered by that joke which is barely one at all both in its lack of success and because he recognizes it as yet another thing he might do himself, and so Claude simply waits and looks at Sylvain evenly to find out if there'll be more following the sigh which seems like acknowledgement of that not working.

He doesn't have long to wait. Uncertainty still curves its way around the other man's features when he looks up but even the clarification doesn't seem to help. Once again Claude has the feeling he's missing something. And while that's something he normally loves since it means a chance to pry into whatever it is, much like with Hilda, it's more a source of frustration for not knowing where it stems from - even if Sylvain is admittedly more of an overall mystery to him. ]

A discussion, huh. [ Of all the things to be thinking about right now, it suddenly occurs to Claude how still both of them have gone compared to seconds ago. Once again by virtue of what he'd said, something meant playfully but now seems to have shifted things on an axis, and for something closer to normal he runs his fingers idly over Sylvain's shirt where it's in reach. ] And you were expecting something to change because of it?

[ When in doubt - of which Claude has plenty after parsing through those short sentences - wait for the other person to answer first. ]

I don’t know.

[ Sylvain’s replay is uncommonly blunt, for someone who typically dances around most of his answers until there’s no other option. And while that uncertainty still lurks in his gaze, he manages, at least, to keep his eyes locked on Claude’s.

Even if it does make him uncomfortable, with how intent Claude’s stare has turned. He doesn’t know what that means either. ]

That’s why I’m asking. I know… I know how you feel about her. How you’ve always felt about her. And how she feels about you. And I’m glad you two have finally dragged your heads out of your asses and started talking about it again.

I guess… I’m just not sure how the rest of it is going to go.

[ A logical sort of sense unfurls in what Sylvain says.

It matches, he thinks vaguely, somewhat in what Hilda had said in meaning the same thing though her way of saying it to him was different. Different due to their shared history, and because of everything that'd happened here. But doesn't that also apply to the two of them? There's a different variety of things dragged here with them both from Fodlan - some of which he's sure they'd each other the other hadn't seen when they'd surfaced - but in the end, whatever this is: it's something they've created entirely of their own.

It shouldn't be so difficult to place a label onto the this they're staring down. He could volunteer one. Claude, however, isn't ready to let go of reticence just yet. ]

How do you want the rest of it to go?

[ He knows what it is he wants out of this, but that's no guarantee it'll match where Sylvain is leading this conversation. Call it a check rather than placing a bet this round. ]

[ He hates when Claude starts turning a simple conversation into a chess match.

Sighing, he pushes himself back enough that he can sit up, crossing his legs under him. A blade of grass is plucked up from atop the blanket, giving his fingers something to fidget with as he tries to find an answer here that’s not going to send the entire thing cascading into disaster.

It might be too late for that already.

He doesn’t volunteer that he’s pretty sure what he wants doesn’t matter all that much here. He’s pretty accustomed to that, actually, but he already knows Claude would likely take that the wrong way. Or the right way? But it doesn’t change the fact of it, at it’s core.

That what Claude and Hilda have between them, a connection that’s been simmering for years and finally blossoming into something more, is far deeper than anything Sylvain ever expects from anyone. Typically he knows where he stands and this would normally be the point where he starts making his excuses, starts making himself scarce, let’s them explore whatever this new thing is between them. When deeper feelings get involved, he knows his time is up. ]

I don’t know. I’m not sure there’s many ways it can go. [ He offers a weak attempt at a smile, knowing it wouldn’t have fooled him anymore than he expects it to actually fool Claude. ] But if you were just planning on letting it go as we have been, I’m okay with that.

[ Was he? He’s not sure. But it was still better than nothing, right? He was trying to remind himself that he could be content enough with things as they were. ]

[ It feels like a series of unfortunate events follow his question. Sylvain sits up in something which can't be anything other than pulling away for a bit of distance both physically if not for also with everything else. Claude watches as that blade of grass gets tangled one way and then another as he props himself up to now recline on his elbows while studying Sylvain. If what unease he'd felt before was a small hum then it grows considerably louder now, and he has to remind himself to not grab onto it and hone it into a weapon meant to provoke even more distance.

His past self wouldn't have hesitated in doing so. How many times had he dug his fingers into it to build another wall as yet another way to keep someone out? But even that can't be called an action long retired and relegated to another time because he'd done it here in everything that'd gone on with Hilda, and was in fact still working on figuring out how to dismantle some of those walls again. Does he really want to figure out how to have to do the same with Sylvain?

The answer doesn't take more than a second to arrive: he doesn't. ]

If you're going to lie to me about being fine with something, you might want to work on making your expression match what you're saying.

[ Maybe if it were anything else Claude could've followed his own advice (somewhat) and made that sound teasing, like some kind of inside joke, but it doesn't cross any lines into any shades of irritation or anywhere close, either. It is what it is, just a blunt statement to refute buying anything about what Sylvain just said.

But it's also a reminder to not leap to too many conclusions when doing the same almost cost him so much with Hilda, and Claude's not eager to repeat that experience even accidentally if it'll cause Sylvain to withdraw even farther in more ways than one. Instead he waits to catch the other man's gaze, then continues with something gentler and moving ever closer to the actual point. ]

That's not what I want, and I don't think it's what you want either. But - I don't know that unless you tell me, Sylvain.

[ Claude calls his bluff when Sylvain hadn’t even been fully aware he’d offered one. The quick startled movement of his gaze as it lifts to Claude’s probably gives that away, but then it remains there, caught and pinned in place by the look the other man is giving him. And by the gentler tone he finishes that in.

Even if he’s pretty sure he’d kept his expression pretty well in control for most of that. Apparently not good enough. Then again, this is Claude. He’s not sure he’ll ever be a good enough liar to fool him for long. Not when he’s actually looking. Sylvain can get away with it plenty when the man doesn’t know where he’s supposed to be looking, or what Sylvain might be trying to hide.

But he holds Claude’s gaze with a hint of stubbornness, even though it feels like something in him might be bleeding right now. ]

This isn’t just about what I want. I’m not sure that even holds any weight here. [ It shouldn’t. There are much more important things that should be balancing the scales. ] I’m not the one things have changed for. I’m giving you an out, if you need it, Claude. I know what she means to you. And this… [ He gestures at the pair of them before giving a quiet sigh, that thought tripping over itself before he can let it fully form. ] We never really decided what this was.

[ Fun. A fling? Two of them exploring where all that flirting and teasing could go. Mutual enjoyment.

But it had always been in the back of his mind, that awareness that he was a placeholder. That no matter what happened or where this went, his time always had an expiration date.

It always did. He made sure of it. ]

[ The look Sylvain gives him at first nearly makes him laugh, if only because it's so close to when Marianne used to be surprised about being acknowledged. But whatever tiny bit of humor was in that quickly fades away since - this isn't the same, and there's no sign of Sylvain relaxing anywhere afterwards that he can find.

For good reason, it seems, based on what follows.

In the seconds ticking by afterwards, too many feelings crowd in for Claude to name. Here he'd been worried about putting up any walls to find Sylvain seems to have already established one meant to keep him out. And that because of it and with a sinking feeling growing in his chest, he realizes maybe this is what Sylvain thinks he wants even if he doesn't want to accept that. ]

That sounds a lot less like an out and far more like you saying you've already decided something.

[ Any frustration he's feeling is kept out of his voice thanks to all those years of practice in modulating it to be nothing more than what he wants to show when it's called for. Right now Claude doesn't want to reveal much of anything as he keeps his tone even and his gaze pinned on the other man to make sure he catches every detail of every reaction, though not without a furrow appearing in his brow that's not yet a frown but could be depending on what's said next. It's a starting point. All of it, he reminds himself, to figuring out where to press upon to find what he wants - what he's pretty sure they both want. ]

I didn't ask you to come out here today to end anything because again, that's also not what I want. But if you're going to do that instead, don't act like you're doing me some kind of favor by throwing away something that's good and could be even better.

I haven't. [ Which is true enough, even if Claude might not see it that way. He looks down again, staring at the mangled piece of grass his fingers are still twisting and fidgeting with. ] I was more... bracing for what I figured was coming. Eventually, anyway. I didn't think you would have picked a cute picnic as the place to do it, either, but hey. I've had this conversation in worse places, I suppose.

[ He actually does manage to make that last bit come out as a joke.

Although bringing up his very dubious past is probably a terrible idea right now. The last thing he wants to do is remind Claude of why he should be having that conversation right now. ]

I don't want to throw it away. But I don't... [ He stops, frustrated, before forcing the words out, no matter how terrible they sound. He's never admitted anything like this to Claude before. Jesper, a few times. Hilda, when they were both drunk and melancholy. But Claude's opinion of him was different, and he was impossible to predict in his reactions. It made confessing something like this all the more terrifying for stepping into the unknown. ]

I don't know how to do 'better'. I barely know how to handle something this good already. You've already put up with me for far longer than I expected you to.

Edited 2023-11-08 00:31 (UTC)

[ He doesn't laugh. Doesn't even crack a smile to give Sylvain any of the levity he's seeking out with one of those things said for supposed comedic effect that Claude's figured out have either filaments of truth in them or are truths entirely as if saying them that way will make them be brushed aside. It's one of those things they share, he'd realized long ago, and if it wasn't for doing his best impression of a statue it'd be tempting to get his own grass to shred.

No reaction at all can be as encouraging as anything else, he's learned over the years. Encouraging being a relative term since it's almost always for dragging forth the rest of what's waiting to be said rather than offering that out, and this is no exception. It's not about the past - something Claude couldn't care less about other than being another fact about Sylvain. Another thing on the list of whatever was left behind in other lives, but he doesn't think that's really what Sylvain's trying to say.

It's worth waiting. It's also enough for him to study the other man in the quiet following before pushing himself up to sit up. ]

Don't know how to do 'better', huh. Are you sure about that? I can think of more than a few reasons why that's not true either.

[ The exasperation's not gone, not entirely, but it's enough to put it to the side momentarily to pull this away from where Sylvain's taking it. Regardless of whether Sylvain's planning to interrupt, Claude's going to keep right on talking. ]

I could start with Aquila, for one, and with everything else you'd planned when all I was supposed to do was wear a dress. Or quite a few dinners since then, and not just the ones attached to special occasions and more like just because as you'd said more than a couple times. I could certainly mention everything about a particular day in July and all that you put into making it happen when you didn't have to. Should I keep going?

[ He makes a frustrated sound under his breath, a hand scraping down over his face in agitation. He's not sure if Claude is missing the point here, or if he is.

Those actions are ones he's done hundreds of times. Maybe not with that much focus and attention to detail, but as far as actions go, he doesn't feel like that's enough for Claude to try and build his argument around. Planning dates, making grand gestures - or even small heartfelt ones - those are as deeply ingrained in him as his terrible pickup lines and allergies to commitment.

Granted, he often saved those more for people who meant something to him, rather than those who tried to drape their ambitions and manipulations around him. They were safer to lavish with gifts. Even if he sometimes felt guilty that maybe he was just prolonging things by buying his way into their affections for a while longer. ]

Claude, I would have done those things even if we weren't sleeping together, so I'm not sure that argument is actually relevant here.

[ The sound Sylvain makes and one he recognizes as something smothered and possibly not meant to be heard grates his nerves. It's not a proper answer to what he'd said, and the lack of anything he can do something with is an irritation even if his expression remains unchanged. He's had the thought before about Sylvain being so many variables in one and where he gets a grasp one on of them they seem to shift again to be something besides what the picture presented is.

It does once more when Sylvain tells him something that feels important but if it's supposed to prove something else Claude, for once, doesn't have the slightest idea of what it is.

Instead it's a terrible sort of axis tilt again where there's something else to hear in there - something he doesn't want to because that'd mean he'd read all of this - and that'd mean -

That's getting ahead of himself with that ever present desire to find the answers. Which is why he goes back to staring at Sylvain, attempting to keep incredulity from his expression though eventually it seeps in little by little before he finally raises an eyebrow as if to say, And? ]

[ Claude is very luckily that the most dangerous thing Sylvain has in his hands right now is a blade of grass. Because that look sparks a flare of temper wholly unusual from the redhead, whose fuse is typically painstakingly, annoyingly long.

The mangled piece of grass bouncing off the man's forehead isn't nearly satisfying enough, but it takes care of the automatic reaction and vents it before he reaches for something like a plate or a teacup or Claude's damned book. ]

I don't fucking know what you want from me, Claude!

[ The words burst out of him in an exasperated rush, temper still lurking in that tone, simmering and ready to ignite even hotter.

For someone who so often shapes himself into being what others want him to be, need him to be, this gaping void empty of understanding has been grating on him more and more in recent weeks, although he's always been an expert at pushing that aside. Ignoring it. Typically watching, listening, experimenting, will give him the answer he needs to know. Who - or what - he needs to be.

But Claude's complicated and inscrutable and he never knows if what he's given is real or just another facet of a mask he can never quite see all of.

Maybe they really are too much alike. ]

[ 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. ]

[ It’s enough to deflate that brief spark of temper entirely as Sylvain blinks at him a moment. Whether he sees what Claude’s trying hide or not, he’s not even sure, because Claude’s always been way too good at masking three things behind something else and even he’s not sure which one he’s looking at.

And his words are reassuring in one way. Terrifying, in another. He swallows thickly, looking away, gaze fixed on some innocuous point on the blanket they’re still sharing. ]

It meant - means - something. A lot of things. [ Everything, actually.

As far as confessions go, it’s quiet and a little hesitant. It feels a lot like walking along a ledge blindfolded and his stomach twists uncomfortably. ]

I know where this usually goes, Claude. At least where I’m involved. Except we already went there and that’s where it stops. Always. [ Usually also because of him, one way or another. ] I’ve never wanted it to go anywhere else before. Especially farther. Because I could always see their angle. What they were after. And it was never the same thing as me. It rarely had anything to do with me in the first place.

[ He hated that he could read people so well, sometimes. That it had always been so easy to see their ambitions. Their shallow dreams or goals they chased after with hearts in their eyes. They might aim those at him, but it wasn’t him they were seeing, really. He could have been anyone. He was anyone, and no one. A means to an end.

Claude… Claude was never easy to read and Sylvain still had no idea what his angle was here. Because he couldn’t imagine Claude not having one. Or twelve, more likely.

Which is why he manages a small laugh, even though it’s tinged with something a little too resigned to be real humor. He spreads his hands to the side in a helpless sort of shrug. ]

So I’m still here. And I’ll probably still be here whether that’s the smart thing or not. It’s probably not - this is me we’re talking about here. But at the same time, I know how much it gutted you when you and Hilda were fighting. With all the misunderstandings between you. I know how important she is to you, and you to her. I want to see you both happy with that.

I just wanted to know if that meant I needed to make myself scarce for a while, or at least… step back to give her space. I’m not saying I want this… us… to stop, because I don’t. But I get it if your focus needs to change. I know she’s been struggling even before you two fought, trying to figure out where she fits. I don’t want to make that worse by inadvertently taking up space that’s meant for her to fill.

[ That… was potentially more than he really wanted to reveal about where he saw his place in all of this, he realizes too late, the words slipping out before he realizes that aspect of them. ]

[ Meant is enough to make something in his chest ache even if it's corrected not all of a split second later, and Claude keeps his eyes where they are to keep all those hopes tempered even as Sylvain keeps speaking.

Except what he hears isn't what he expected which was some possibly graceful exit where he'd have to figure out where things would go from there; instead it takes a different path. His gaze goes unfocused for a minute as he listens before he raises it without lifting his head to watch Sylvain as he talks.

Within that: there's a lot of information. It's not lost on Claude that some of it seems to overlap with what Hilda's told him and to a lesser extent what she hasn't and he'd put together to guess at what was behind it. He gets the sense he might have to do the same with Sylvain, too, but that'll take more time and consideration than this moment allows.

What he should be doing is listening above anything else. It does pull different jumbles of thoughts Claude's had in passing before into focus to shape them into one more coherent than those glimpses provided. What was said minutes before begins to make more sense now with (some of) the context behind it, and it isn't what matched his assumptions. Don't repeat your mistakes, Claude reminds himself, then reminds himself again because it bears repeating. ]

And what if there's space for both of you? [ Now he does lift his head to look at Sylvain properly and evenly. This feels like the best starting point before that gets wound up into a dismissal it's now clear neither of them want. ] And that you wouldn't be taking up each other's, to be clear. That's not how this has worked to me this whole time. I was never looking to replace one of you with the other or anywhere close to that, and I'm still not.

[ A pause to drag a hand through his hair, half in thinking and half to avoid the impulse to do something else - like reach out to Sylvain just yet when some uncertainty still lingers as he sighs slightly. ]

There's a lot of things I have to make up for, I think, and this might be another one of them. To be clearer, I'm not asking you to step back or away from anything because that's not what I want unless that's what you want. I told Hilda the same thing, and I meant it then and again now.

[ But as for what comes next - much as he'd told Hilda also, that part he doesn't necessarily get to decide. ]

And what if that’s what Hilda wants?

[ It’s asked softly, but he manages a faint, crooked smile, even if there’s a hint of subdued sadness there. That inevitable resignation still lingering.

He’s pretty sure Hilda would never voice that. She’d never want to put that choice on them, even if watching them kept bleeding her out slowly. He doesn’t want to put that choice on any of them either. But he wants to watch Hilda’s heart breaking even less than that.

Claude’s gaze is fixed on his face again and its far too intense that he slumps a little, gaze dropping to his lap once more. ]

If there’s still space for me, then I’m happy with that. I don’t need a lot. But not if it means I’d just keep hurting her in the process. I haven’t moved away, Claude. I didn’t really plan to unless I needed to. I guess… I guess I just need you two to figure out how and where you two are standing now.

[ So he can orient himself accordingly, to do the least amount of damage. ]

I don't have an answer for that.

[ And Claude's answer of that doesn't take but more than a second to come; it's genuine even as all Sylvain says presses upon fears he won't voice. Ones he also has because he's not willing to hurt Hilda either - or rather, to hurt her even more than he already has in ways which spiraled so quickly and entrenched themselves into everything when there was no way they couldn't.

It's what has Claude falling silent after but nothing comes to mind to offer when he can't promise something that someone else needs to do for themselves. The same, he thinks with an unsettling twisting in his stomach, that Sylvain himself is saying here and now.

And that feels a lot like being left in the same uncertainty with which this conversation dropped into not long after starting as though they've looped right back into it again. ]

I want Hilda and I want you, but I can't decide that being what you want for either one of you if it even ends up being what you want at all. And I shouldn't try to decide it because that's unfair in a lot of ways, not the least of all not accounting for either of your own feelings on it, so if you need time to think then I understand. It's the same as what I'd told Hilda to do because I... I want her to be sure.

[ The thought stumbles out incomplete, a frisson of the fear of rejection from one or both of them winding through the words. And it says as it is when Claude goes quiet without offering more to cover it up or obscure it, and instead he shifts his gaze to the willow tree's branches above. ]

I don't need time to think.

[ That, at least, is something said with absolute certainty as he finally makes his gaze lift back up to lock with Claude's again. While there's still shadows darkening his gaze, it's still steady and even. This is something he knows. His part. What he might want, if he had a choice in things. He's just pretty sure he doesn't. What he wants so rarely holds any weight in the reality of things. Which was why he'd brought this up in the first place. ]

I know what I want. I just don't know if it's possible. And it's not really my decision to make in the first place. [ He knows where he ranks here. Especially now that there's two people's feelings involved, weighing the scale opposite of him. ]

Like I said, this hasn't really changed things for me, not on my end anyway. I'm still right where I was before we had this conversation. What I want hasn't changed. But if it has to... [ He pauses, trailing off, because it just feels like that's borrowing trouble before he needs to. Which, unfortunately, he happens to be great at. ]

I guess it comes down to what Hilda wants then, huh? What she can be comfortable with.

[ It takes another few moments before Claude's willing to pry his gaze away from the willow tree despite being aware of Sylvain's resting on him to go with what's said. When he does, he doesn't look away again but remains quiet, intent on listening. What's said doesn't particularly decrease his general unease when it's somewhat as circular as his own even if it's completely fair, and he draws his knees up partway to cross his arms loosely over top of them. ]

Maybe.

[ Something else he feels like he can't - and shouldn't - answer when it comes to what Hilda wants. There's too many variables, and with that means too many possibilities when it comes to peering ahead at what the future could bring. Even if he's still firmly got his gaze on something brighter for all of them, there's no choosing it if that's not what they each want.

Which leaves one other important question to be asked. ]

So then where do you and I go from here?

[ It's intentionally left open-ended, far more so than most things he asks or ever asked Sylvain in particular, and Claude doesn't bother to add more when it still feels like they've danced around what Sylvain wants out of this in not so many words - beyond those where it sounded like the other man was talking himself out of it already. ]

[ He blinks, caught off guard slightly by what feels like - to him - an unnecessary question. Or maybe he just isn’t sure where Claude is trying to lead him now. ]

I don’t know? The same place we’ve always been going?

[ …Unless he really did want something different now, but he hasn’t voiced that, or even really hinted at it before just now so Sylvain’s not sure he can even guess which way that question is pointed. ]

Which is what, to you, exactly?

[ No pauses happen this time between that question and this next one because - that Sylvain's response is this makes no sense. Not even in the context of all the confusing loops they've drawn over and around each other in the past few months, in all those ones Claude's come to recognize, and not with glimpses he's caught in past conversations whether the other man meant to let them slip out or not.

Not even in this conversation with that earlier explanation of things going no further, ever, or how it'd felt like that was setting up something else even if he can't tell if 'the same place' means they have the same thing in mind. Maybe that's what he'll get here by asking, this time more specifically. Hopefully. ]

[ He shifts uncomfortably on the spot, Claude's gaze fixed on him with enough intensity to make him reconsider that escape plan. Why do those words sound so much like the traps he'd once been so good at evading before walking face-first into one?

Maybe he just hadn't expected it from Claude. This is what he gets for letting his guard down.

But now he is put on the spot and there's the briefest jolt of panic, because this is it, this is the part he fucks it all up, he can feel it looming and he hasn't even opened his mouth yet. ]

I...

[ Great Goddess, help him out here.

...

Nope. He's got nothing. ]

I don't know. Honestly? I was sorta following your lead here.

[ That little bit of restlessness from Sylvain tells him plenty in the silence. Even if it's something Claude could have predicted, could've seen coming if he'd taken more time to think about it beyond attempting to not leap too far ahead from one second to the next. It readies him, if nothing else, for the lack of answer he receives in return.

But that doesn't make it less exasperating; there's the instinct to clench his jaw which is much harder to suppress than most reactions Claude keeps tucked away. Somewhere in there there's some irony that Sylvain's either evading answering or outright refusing to in his own way when this is something so familiar to what he does himself. Or, he realizes abruptly, what he does when he thinks a question asked hasn't been answered and he's looking to find it first before giving his own. That switches irritation to confusion or more like blends them together - hadn't he been clear?

What's missing when it feels like it's all here but hearing whether they want the same thing?

A second goes by where he continues to just look at Sylvain, then takes a deep breath to compress any feelings into something smaller, and tries again. ]

You said before what you want hasn't changed which means you have to have some idea, Sylvain. Saying you don't know now doesn't really work.

[ CLOSED ] the dawn is opening

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