philancer | Inbox: Abraxas

Hilda. It’s not about deserving. It never is.

[ His voice turns quiet at that, and for a moment, his gaze goes distant, as he thinks of another conversation he’d had a long time ago, one that fills him with a pang of longing all over again. ]

Besides. What we think we deserve for ourselves would rarely match what others think we deserve for ourselves. For better or for worse, really. From where I stand, I think you and Claude deserve the chance to find your happiness, because it’s something you’ve both been chasing after for as long as I’ve known you. And as for what I think I deserve… I’m going to leave that unspoken because I think it would just make you mad at me again and I’d rather skip that part.

You say Claude and I are so much alike and maybe that’s true in some ways. But you and I are so much more alike in other ways, Hilda. I get it. We’re both afraid of failure, of people’s expectations of us, and not being able to meet them - and the fallout of that, for different reasons. But sometimes it affects our decisions so much that we end up standing there and going ‘well, why even try, then?’.

But the problem with that, sweetheart, is that then we gain nothing. And I think, by default, that means we’ve lost everything anyway.

Don’t assume Claude doesn’t get jealous, because I’m sure he does. He’s still human, Hilda. So am I, and I definitely get jealous. Emotions don’t listen to logic, they don’t follow rules, they just are. You can’t control them. Only what you do about them. Or maybe despite them.

[ He reaches out to brush a lock of hair back from her face, his fingertips lingering against her cheek. ]

I want you, Hilda. I don’t know what that means, or what it encompasses yet, because we haven’t had time to figure that out. It’s different than Claude, but that doesn’t mean it’s less. Just different.

[ The dichotomy of wanting to be noticed in only the ways she had designed while simultaneously not wanting to be distinguishable at all is a constant push and pull for her. It’s no secret that she’s scared of expectation and by extension disappointment people but when her fears are laid bare, dragged out into the light, there’s no sweet, lazy veneer for her to hide behind.

It doesn’t escape her that she’s put them both up on some pedestal. Some shiny pretty things encased in a glass that she can shine and admire from behind the case but never hope to wear for anything more than dress up. But that’s where she thought they rightly belonged to stay. She’s no heir to a house, no prodigal child, a coward with a staunch disbelief in herself. There’s plenty of reasons for affection to be showered on them.

And yet there Sylvain is saying the contrary. Instinctively she leans into his light touch and her eyes flutter closed.

Her heart aches exposed and raw in her chest, overladen with want and yearning. With want of changing Sylvain’s mind — about himself or her, she can’t say. With want of showing him that he deserved everything and then some. For want of a possible future, of a possible something, that she’s still too scared to name. Her thumbs continue to brush against his cheekbones as a quiet exhalation leaves her lips. ]

I think I want you too. But I just need time. I don't want to ruin this by blurring lines or rushing into something before I know where I stand. I learned what that does and I don't trust myself not to repeat it.

[ Conviction slips into her voice, eyes rising to settle on his. ]

I know what you think you might deserve but I think you deserve the world. And I don't want to give you anything less than that.

[ He gives her a small smile, because he knows arguing with her here and now is pointless. There’s too much she doesn’t know - will never know, if he had any say in the matter. He has far too many skeletons shoved deep in his closets to ever be comfortable shining a light in. But there’s likely something in his expression that hints that he doesn’t quite believe her.

He believes she believes it? That’s gotta count for something, right? ]

I don’t intend to rush you, sweet. I know you’re worried about what will happen if things get more complicated. Frankly, I am a little, too. But don’t you worry about how much you can give me, if anything at all. This… has already been more than I ever anticipated, whatever comes next.

[ The only words in that whole thing that hold the deepest conviction, because it’s true. He’d known he was on borrowed time with both of them from the very start.

His fingers brush against her cheek again before he leans in to press a kiss to her forehead. ]

Take your time in figuring out what you want. What you feel. Like I said, I’m not going anywhere. I just wanted you to know… I guess that I’m okay with however far you want to take this. Or not at all, if that ends up being your decision. I’ll respect it.

[ Her heart clenches at that small smile. She's had enough brushes with his ingrained belief that he deserves nothing and nothing good at that to know that this too might be something to contend with eventually.

But that feels like several steps ahead of where they are and she knows despite this discomfort, this aching desire to want to tell him everything she can't convey into words, that it's where they need to be right now. And at least, she ruefully thinks herself, they're here together.

Hilda leans into his kiss, slipping her hands down the slope of his neck before nestling at the nape of his neck. More sentiments of her disbelief in her ability to make him happy, in the longevity of his want spin on an endless loop in her head. Miraculously none of them make it past her lips. Instead she stills them by pressing her own kiss to his forehead and the tip of his nose. ]

No matter what I decide – you'll always mean so much to me, Sylvain. Thank you for caring for me.

[ That… didn’t sound promising. But his face carefully keeps any disappointment from showing as he slides a hand against her spine, knowing she meant well.

It still sounded, in its own way, like a goodbye. And maybe it was.

Better to start bracing for that now, then.

Still, he manages a warm smile for her as she pulls back from dropping a kiss to the end of his nose. ]

You’re easy to care for. [ he offers instead, tugging a lock of her hair playfully. He’d meant it when he said he’d respect whatever decision she made, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel guilty for it. ] Now. I suppose we should go rescue your hat before I get myself into more trouble, hmm?

There's probably people who would think otherwise.

[ Deflection is easy to reach for, particularly when she already feels so much like a burden.

So is falling back on old habits, on levity, on joking and smiles instead of focusing on the heaviness that still sits in her heart. He's given a roll of her eyes as she stands up off his lap and motions for him to crouch so she can climb onto his back. ]

You're already in trouble but you'll be in more if you throw it over the ledge.

Edited 2023-10-28 21:14 (UTC)

I wouldn’t do that! [ …Probably. Maybe? ] Delores is just protecting it for you. And feeling pretty. I’d hate to deprive her.

[ But he obligingly boosts her up on his back to piggyback her across the terrace to retrieve her wayward hat. ]

You ready to go inside? I should probably get washed up before starting on dinner.

[ As she's lifted up, a hand drapes lazily over shoulder while the other goes to lightly hold her own hat in place on her head. ]

I wouldn't deprive her either but Delores can get her own hat.

[ Once the hat is back in her hands with no shenanigans or threat of it being thrown again, Hilda makes a show of contemplating having it rest on his head. Just as she's inches from doing so she settles it atop her other hat on her head and leans into him to give him a kiss on the cheek instead. Sylvain would be spared having to wear it again she supposed. At least he was spared today. ]

What were you going to make? Can I watch?

I hadn’t decided yet. Is they’re something you’re craving?

[ He casts a smile over his shoulder at her, boosting her a little higher on his back before abandoning the poor hatless Delores to head for the terrace doors. ]

Why don’t you look in the ice box and see if there’s anything that catches your fancy while I wash up, hmm?

I'll eat anything you make as long as we can go get a dessert after.

[ Once they're through the veranda doors she deposits her hats onto the hat stand by the door. Their new addition to the loft slumbers on a pillow near the window with the lizards nestled in the crook of the wyvern's tail. ]

Unless you're busy later and have plans. I guess I can go fend for myself for dessert with Veliki and Mali.

[ Even now she can't stop herself from playing the cautionary card. Not that her voice betrays any of that. ]

[ He grins as he gently lets her slide down his back to land on her feet once more before turning and tugging a log of her hair in affection once again. ]

Nope. No plans. Looks like I’m all yours for the evening. Flee while you can.

[ He casts her a playful wink before bending and brushing a kiss against the top of her head before turning to head back down the hall to where their bedrooms and bath are tucked away. He calls back over his shoulder as he goes. ]

Think about you want for dessert in the meantime, then. I’ll be right back.

Just don't complain if I make it too complicated!

[ As he retreats back towards his room she's left warm all over – from the kiss he had left at the top of her head down to her toes that are warmed by the patch of sunlight streaming through the windows to the lingering heat in her cheeks as a remnant from his words.

It's only once she hears the door click behind him that she lets out a breath. Her hands flutter to rest over her heart and she stares at the closed door taking in the way how quickly her heart races.

She lingers there a breath more, gripping the fabric of her dress lightly before pulling herself together to head towards the kitchen left alone again with her butterflies and her thoughts. ]

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