[ Hilda's insistence of something he knows well is right has Claude pulling his mouth to the side in something that's not quite a smile but could be, if only he put some effort into it. There's nothing to say to that but agreeing, and it's the rather final kind to it which feels like - to Claude - to say so would be repeating a truth they both know. A clock's started on whether or not he tells Sylvain this as he should, just as it had for what he should have told Hilda and didn't in a spectacular failure at the same thing but for different subjects. It's not something he should repeat.
Acknowledgement of all of that is different than the reality of doing it will be, however, and he drops his gaze to watch Hilda's fingers trace over his hand. A small touch but one no less important to him than any others for the comfort it offers, for the familiarity of something offered between them for years now with an ease to it he didn't used to second guess. If it wasn't for that Hilda's clearly thinking something over he wouldn't now either as one shape turns into another and waits to see if he'll find out what it is.
Some part of him hadn't actually expected her to take him up on asking another question (or more) even with as much as he'd meant it. An actual smile flits over his face for a split second when it's clear she is, and not even the topic is cause enough to less the feeling: that it's an extension back to trust given. Another step forward to something else, he hopes. He has to. ]
If there was a time when we got along, I was too young to remember it. If we weren't at odds over something then we mostly didn't talk. I learned to be independent because of who I was surrounded by when I was a kid beyond my siblings, and it wasn't friends. Those were in short supply for me.
[ It's tempting to keep looking down but Claude doesn't, instead raising his gaze back up to Hilda even if she keeps hers elsewhere. This is too important to not given that it explains far too much about what he's never told her aside from breezing by here and there or by outright demonstrating time and time again. A reason for it with what those words imply, and not something shuffled away inside layers of everything else as he's done with so much he'd thought he hadn't been ready to talk about. Things he'd thought he'd had more time for, but in the end that'd only accelerated the decline they're still trying to make their way back from with more still to be addressed which will take time to heal. ]
The Deer changed that, though I don't think I have to say that wasn't the case at first. Or for a while, since some part of me was still surprised when everyone came back on the day we promised to meet up after all.
no subject
Acknowledgement of all of that is different than the reality of doing it will be, however, and he drops his gaze to watch Hilda's fingers trace over his hand. A small touch but one no less important to him than any others for the comfort it offers, for the familiarity of something offered between them for years now with an ease to it he didn't used to second guess. If it wasn't for that Hilda's clearly thinking something over he wouldn't now either as one shape turns into another and waits to see if he'll find out what it is.
Some part of him hadn't actually expected her to take him up on asking another question (or more) even with as much as he'd meant it. An actual smile flits over his face for a split second when it's clear she is, and not even the topic is cause enough to less the feeling: that it's an extension back to trust given. Another step forward to something else, he hopes. He has to. ]
If there was a time when we got along, I was too young to remember it. If we weren't at odds over something then we mostly didn't talk. I learned to be independent because of who I was surrounded by when I was a kid beyond my siblings, and it wasn't friends. Those were in short supply for me.
[ It's tempting to keep looking down but Claude doesn't, instead raising his gaze back up to Hilda even if she keeps hers elsewhere. This is too important to not given that it explains far too much about what he's never told her aside from breezing by here and there or by outright demonstrating time and time again. A reason for it with what those words imply, and not something shuffled away inside layers of everything else as he's done with so much he'd thought he hadn't been ready to talk about. Things he'd thought he'd had more time for, but in the end that'd only accelerated the decline they're still trying to make their way back from with more still to be addressed which will take time to heal. ]
The Deer changed that, though I don't think I have to say that wasn't the case at first. Or for a while, since some part of me was still surprised when everyone came back on the day we promised to meet up after all.