[ Well - it counts for something that Sylvain finally looks up, and he has to assume that's a good sign. Claude just calmly takes another bite of food like he was about to do anyway and listens. And watches as he's so often done for all the tells someone might give, and checks them against the list he's kept of the other man's. Some part of him is still ready to metaphorically flee, so it takes a second for what he's told to sink in. When it does, he stops chewing and blinks.

Wait. Give him a second to do the math on that as more parts of the equation are revealed. ]

I can't decide if I should tease you first for being shy or for admitting you're overlooking something obvious.

[ No, teasing really isn't the answer here. Claude's also well aware that shy isn't what's being described whatsoever, but for as much as he wants to know answers he also knows when to not prod a sore spot. Pressing on it would be a recipe for Sylvain spontaneously developing a spell to make the floor envelop him in seconds flat. That becomes doubly true when what's revealed is a bruise from something, somewhere, and origins still unknown but one Claude feels as an echo resonating within in him all the same.

And in reality, that's the extent of his teasing because it's with a fond smile he extends a hand out halfway across the table to let it rest against the tabletop palm up and waiting. ]

Let me be a lot clearer then. There is no line. Or, well, [ because that's not honest, is it - ] before you interrupt me to point it out, there's other lines, but this particular one? You're the only one keeping yourself on the other side of it now.