[ He nurses his drink through that explanation, his expression unusually grim and pinched.
He doesn't know what's worse - having to remember that like yesterday, or dread that it might somehow be his tomorrow. ]
Is it terrible that I keep thinking that the silver lining to this place is that I didn't have to step out onto that field yet? Or at all? I'm hardly a stranger to the battlefield at this point but... there was nothing I wanted more than to not even get out of my bedroll that morning. [ It was hard, feeling so conflicted about returning home. What would he even find there? ] Finding a familiar face on the opposite side of the battlefield... it's been my greatest fear ever since the war started. It's almost enough to make me regret having made so many friends in the other Houses.
[ The very idea of having to face off against Caspar, Dorothea, Bernadetta... Even Raphael and Hilda. It cut almost as deeply as considering having to come face to face with Annette or Dedue or Mercy. It made him want to not pick up his lance at all.
Which, of course, just incites that nagging sense of guilt and regret that's been haunting him so thickly these past few days. The whispers that taunt endlessly at the edges of his consciousness. He visibly winces, rubbing fingers against his temples to ease up the sharp ache he hasn't been quite able to get rid of ever since that strange dream that seemed to have triggered all this in his head.
He's somewhat made that connection, because he knows he can normally ignore things like this far easier than how he's struggling at present, which is enough to make him suspicious. But it's not like knowing what's happening is doing anything to make it happen less. ]
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He doesn't know what's worse - having to remember that like yesterday, or dread that it might somehow be his tomorrow. ]
Is it terrible that I keep thinking that the silver lining to this place is that I didn't have to step out onto that field yet? Or at all? I'm hardly a stranger to the battlefield at this point but... there was nothing I wanted more than to not even get out of my bedroll that morning. [ It was hard, feeling so conflicted about returning home. What would he even find there? ] Finding a familiar face on the opposite side of the battlefield... it's been my greatest fear ever since the war started. It's almost enough to make me regret having made so many friends in the other Houses.
[ The very idea of having to face off against Caspar, Dorothea, Bernadetta... Even Raphael and Hilda. It cut almost as deeply as considering having to come face to face with Annette or Dedue or Mercy. It made him want to not pick up his lance at all.
Which, of course, just incites that nagging sense of guilt and regret that's been haunting him so thickly these past few days. The whispers that taunt endlessly at the edges of his consciousness. He visibly winces, rubbing fingers against his temples to ease up the sharp ache he hasn't been quite able to get rid of ever since that strange dream that seemed to have triggered all this in his head.
He's somewhat made that connection, because he knows he can normally ignore things like this far easier than how he's struggling at present, which is enough to make him suspicious. But it's not like knowing what's happening is doing anything to make it happen less. ]