philancer | Inbox: Abraxas

[ Hilda has spent enough time around Sylvain at this point to catch the flicker of disappointment on his face. She wishes she hadn't. It would make trying to ignore the rising guilt easier.

There's other things to distract from that though and it's Sylvain stepping towards her to close the space between them. Instinctively she almost takes a step back but his words draw out the little spark of annoyance that had been tangled in the ball of feelings that she hadn't identified until now.

It prompts her to stand her ground, placing a hand on her hip to frown at him. ]

There is no plan. [ There is. A poorly crafted one - but it's still a plan. ] And even if there were, it isn't that. I just don't know what you want to talk about. I apologized about the spa unless - [ She holds up the fox mask. ] you want to talk about this mask.

[ His gaze flits down to the mask and then back to her face before a corner of his lips quirks upwards. He arches an eyebrow at her, patient. ]

Sure. We can talk about the mask. [ He leans in closer to her, bending over where she stands with her hand propped on a hip, giving him attitude that just makes him want to kiss her again. ] We probably should, don't you think? Although you're the one that seems to have something on your mind in regard to it. Enlighten me.

[ Sylvain leaning into her only prompts her to lean backwards. As he does, her eyes flicker towards his lips for a split second before catching herself. Don't look at his lips, Hilda! Shortly after she rips her eyes back to his, it dawns on her that whatever intimidating air she had tried to put on is traded for a mildly comedic one instead - but she can't dwell on that either.

His chosen words certainly give off the impression that he knows something. Stubbornly she gives him a look before giving him something between a whine and a huff - ]

You're so annoying. That wasn't me saying I wanted to talk about it, that was me asking you if you wanted to talk about it.

[ Quickly she shoves the mask in his face in an attempt to claim some of her own space back. ]

Tell me why you have it.

[ He doesn't back away, quite content to stay in her space. Especially because it was getting her all riled at him. Probably not the best way to start this conversation, but he enjoyed seeing her all fired up and flushed like this way too much.

He does, however, rescue the mask from her impatient shove, lifting it up out of her grasp. ]

Why wouldn't I have it? It's mine, after all. [ And he pauses to lift it momentarily over his face as he holds her gaze, watching for her reaction. ] And I have some very fond memories from that night.

[ Infuriatingly annoying are the two words that come to mind when she looks at him. The mask does little to dampen the sheer amusement rising off of him, and she can't quite decide if she wants to punch him or kiss him in an attempt to dispel that aura. On second thought, if experience has taught her anything it's that the latter would only result in more of what's annoying her.

Her eyes widen for a split second before narrowing at the not confession as heat flares up in her cheeks again at the mention of the night. She's acutely aware that she now finds herself torn between annoyance and something else she's been resolutely trying not to name. ]

You - [ Words lodge in her throat as she quickly decides to change gears. ] Like what?

[ He lowers the mask again at the question, but only so he can lean in those last few inches between them, hovering just in front of her. His fingertips slide back along her jaw, reminiscent of his touches that night.

He gives a quiet hum, his eyes darkening a shade as they hold her gaze. ]

Was I the only one who found it so memorable, then? [ He tsks’s his tongue softly in chiding. ] No, that can’t be it. I’m quite sure I left more of an impression than that. Otherwise you wouldn’t be dancing around this quite so stubbornly. What’s wrong, Hilda? It’s a little late to claim you didn’t enjoy yourself now. I definitely remember otherwise. Quite vividly, in fact.

[ Hilda goes stock still as Sylvain's fingertips trace along her tightened jaw and it takes everything in her power not to swallow thickly at his touch.

If she lets herself dwell on it any longer, she knows that she'd admit that she had hoped it had been him that night. But even admitting that much feels like a betrayal of some kind to a friend that she didn't even consider a friend anymore. And what's more, it brings a new feeling to light that she hadn't even realized had been there until she had unearthed the annoyance from earlier: worry. ]

You knew. [ She can't bring herself to admit what he already knows but her voice shakes all the same with a myriad of emotions. ] You knew and you didn't even say anything. [ Something sharp flares up in her eyes as she places two hands on his chest to firmly move him backwards. ] Were you just never going to say anything if I hadn't found the mask or said anything myself?

I suspected.

[ He corrects her succinctly as he reaches up to wrap long fingers around each of her wrists, capturing them in a warm grip. And not letting himself be moved from where he stood, still very much in her personal space.

It hadn’t just been a suspicion. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been hoping she’d been exactly who he thought she was. ]

A suspicion you’ve now confirmed. Although I’m certainly not disappointed that my suspicions were correct, considering.

[ The noise of frustration comes out before she can stop herself. The desire to simultaneously pull away and stay right where she is tugs at her internally. Even if it was a suspicion much like the way hers had been, it does little to soothe anything that she's feeling.

Despite how her heart is hammering in her chest, her hackles are still very much up. Sylvain's added admission that he hadn't been disappointed that it was her only serves to further confuse her. There's already too much to try and untangle, never mind this new piece of information. The knot in her stomach feels unpleasantly heavy and she has to shut her eyes in an attempt to ground herself. ]

What do you mean you weren't disappointed?

[ His eyebrow arches upwards again as one corner of his lips twitches in amusement. He really shouldn’t look so amused. He suspects he’s one wrong word away from getting punched in the face. ]

Is there more than one interpretation of those words that I don’t know about? It means I wasn’t disappointed. Why? Did you think I would be? I’ve sort of given up the bad habit of doing things I know I’ll regret later. Mostly.

[ The drinking challenge with Shepard had been a notable exception. ]

[ He really shouldn't. When that's the sight she sees upon opening her eyes it only serves to flare her annoyance. ]

Of course you shouldn't have been disappointed –

[ Hilda catches herself, shutting her mouth so hard that her teeth click together. She chews on the inside of her cheek before letting out a heavy breath through her nose. ]

Not being disappointed means that you've thought about it and you shouldn't have. We shouldn't have.

[ His eyebrow stays lifted as he watches the reactions play out across her face. ]

I'm pretty sure I also haven't made a secret over the fact that I've thought about it quite a bit, in fact. Why shouldn't I have? Why shouldn't we have?

[ His questions almost prompt her to launch right into a jumbled explanation about just exactly why before she abruptly halts. Her brow furrows in confusion for a moment trying to recall a moment when that's been the case. Because as far as she can recall - Feywilds aside - that hasn't been the case.

Like he said, she's spent all this time avoiding him. There were others that could satisfy that and more for him. ]

When?

[ Patiently, he watches the jumbled conflict play out across her face, waiting to see what she will choose. ]

When what?

What -

[ Her brows furrow, a spark of annoyance cutting through her confusion. It's not so dissimilar to the annoyance he's probably seen on her face before when he does something incredibly stupid. ]

What do you mean, 'when what'?

[ The word is dropped into a lower octave of her voice as she does an impression of him. She 'tsks', some heat to her voice now as she tries to move him out of the way in an attempt to get to the door. ]

Never mind - if you're going to be like this, there's no conversation.

[ She shoves against his chest, but he was expecting that. It's why he doesn't get out of her way. In fact, he moves forward, starting to herd her further away from the door. ]

Have you forgotten our conversation back at the Inn? When you were in my bed, in my arms? The kiss we shared that night? I told you then, that I kissed you because I wanted to. That you mattered.

And after the night of the gala? I know you may be trying to forget that now considering you're still mad at our roommate-that-shall-not-be-named. I'm quite certain it came up again there, if you'd somehow forgotten my interest and appreciation the rest of the night. And trust me, I have thought about that night a lot.

[ Hilda side shuffles in time with Sylvain, trying in vain to slip by him. Sure, he's tall but he isn't built like as wide of a wall like Raphael or Balthus. Her cheeks puff up when it's clear he isn't going to make this easy for her.

A protest is halfway out her mouth when he starts rattling off instances that she had tried to convince herself were nothing more than flights of fancy in the moment for all parties involved. That's how she and Claude had always been, so why wouldn't it be the same for Sylvain? But perhaps that parallel is the whole reason that she begins to feel a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. Immediately her brain tries to deflect, panic rising with annoyance resulting in a brief, mirthless and curiously nervous laugh. ]

I had a little too much to drink at the gala. And really, that had more to do with you and Claude – [ Because she can't bring herself to entertain the fact that she belonged somewhere in that picture. She didn't. Nor can she bring herself to address the night at the inn. Her next side step has her bumping directly into his chest and she lets out an annoyed sound before trying to side step away again. ] but like I was saying, we shouldn't have. I shouldn't have.

[ Briefly she wonders if she can duck between his legs. ]

I blurred lines where I shouldn't have - and can you stop cornering me like I'm some rabbit?

No.

[ His answer is succinct and sharp.

He might not be as big and broad as Raphael, but he still has plenty of muscle and he knows exactly how to use it. Not that he makes a habit of being intimidating, but he knows how to command attention when he needs to. Something he employs now, even as he reaches out to tip Hilda’s head back so he can catch and hold her gaze, his own expression serious. ]

There were three of us there that night, Hilda. And we were all involved in what happened. And I don’t have any regrets about that either.

[ His thumb strokes along her jaw as he holds her in place with a touch. ] You still haven’t answered my question. Why shouldn’t we have? Stop being a rabbit, Hilda. It doesn’t suit you.

I wouldn't be one if you weren't making me feel like one.

[ The snippy response comes unbidden, but his sharp refusal has its desired effect. The moment his thumb runs along her jaw, it freezes her in place much to her annoyance.

Several moments pass where she doesn't answer. Can't answer, because the words stick in her throat with uncertainty and nerves. Finally an answer makes its way past her lips albeit halting. ]

Because, you're both - you know. Together.

[ But she doesn't want to talk about Claude or anything remotely related to him. Unfortunately she knows that the answers Sylvain wants does involve him tangentially. ]

Why do you think I'm avoiding the loft?

[ Sylvain just gives her a slow blink, as if he needs to process that. A faint flicker of amusement flits through his gaze. ]

Is that what you’ve been thinking all this time? Hilda, I’m not sure what assumptions you’ve been making, but we’re not “together”. I mean, sometimes we’re together, but not in any way that should mean you have to avoid us. Hell, I also thought it had been pretty clear that night that we were both interested in you very much not avoiding us.

Edited 2023-07-17 05:30 (UTC)

[ All the time that she had spent with Sylvain up until she started her slow drift from the men aside, being this close means that it's impossible for her to not recognize the amused glimmer in his eyes. Which is interesting in and of itself because that's definitely not what she had seen in her idle observation of the pair of them. ]

Don't look at me like that.

[ She pushes his face away but not before there's a split second where her brow furrows, examining his face intently. Something is different. And then she sees it, a glint of familiar gold and green on his ear that gives her some pause. That's definitely a new addition to his usual wardrobe. The colour choice can't be a coincidence but there's too much for her brain to comprehend at the moment. As her eyes tear away from the earring, the expression on her face clearly implies that she doesn't believe him. ]

People change their minds.

[ It's said with a hint of bitterness before tugging her chin away from his grasp. ]

And it doesn't matter anyway. I told you I can't keep blurring lines because that's what got me into this situation in the first place. [ It's a startling amount of insight that surprises even her considering her stance on kisses just being a kisses unless you made something out of them. And unfortunately, she had inadvertently made something out of them. ] So thank you for confirming my own suspicions. And now that I know, what happened between us in the Feywilds shouldn't happen again. There, talk all done.

Edited 2023-07-17 07:08 (UTC)

[ He lets her push his face away, but something in her words snaps his gaze right back to hers. His gaze narrows slightly as his brow furrows and pieces that had made no sense for weeks start sliding into place. ]

Is that what happened with you and Claude? You blurred the lines?

[ Their talk is definitely not done. ]

It isn't the only reason. [ And then quickly she corrects herself – ] Actually, it isn't even the reason but probably didn't help things.

[ In spite of her admission it's hard for her not to feel defensive. Old habits from years of skirting around it made it difficult to not to react that way. She and Claude sleeping together isn't so secretive or taboo to admit now that their Academy days were behind them. Some of the Deer knew, or at least suspected, but they had always remained transparently coy and never outwardly confirmed anything. Hilda had never thought it was a problem or would be one until now.

Hilda wants to leave it at that but she knows that Sylvain won't let her. And after everything they had put him through he at least deserves to know the reason behind their fight. Her gaze purposely stays trained at a place on the floor, trying to keep a level tone and remove as much of the hurt that still festered under her skin. ]

I found something in his domain. Letters about after the war. And there were things in there that I had suspicions about but thought he'd tell me about eventually because we were supposed to be best friends and we told each other everything.

[ There's more of course. Hurtful things like how she had told him that their friends didn't want to be by his side during the war. That he had somehow played a hand in forcing them to be there instead of being there on their own volition. How his words implied that he thought that she was every bit the vapid, dumb flower she made herself out to be. Except she can't bring herself to say as much. ]

[ She might try to mask it, but he can still hear the hurt layered in her tone. Can feel it, aching and painful at the edge of his awareness.

He studies her for a moment before giving a quiet sigh and scooping her up in his arms and carrying her back over to his bed where he can sit and deposit her on his lap. Both of them need to start talking about this or its never going to get resolved. And as she’s the one at hand at the moment, he’ll start here. ]

So you fought, because the most notorious secret-keeper we know - save maybe Yuri - kept more secrets from you. [ He tugs a lock of her hair as he searches her face. ] Hilda, is there a chance he might have been keeping those secrets because you’re his best friend? Maybe he was trying to protect you. You and I… we haven’t been through the full war like he has. We don’t know what he’s seen, what he’s experienced.

And how do you know he wouldn’t have told you eventually? I’m pretty sure if there was anyone he would open up to about his secrets, it would be you. Maybe the right time hadn’t come up yet. Or maybe… maybe he was just afraid.

[ He’s pretty sure Claude wouldn’t appreciate that particular comment, but in some ways, Sylvain understands his methods and logic about some things all too well. And he can’t rule that out. ]

Edited 2023-07-17 20:38 (UTC)

[ When her feet begin to leave the ground, Hilda's first instinct is to flinch away. She had done such an awful job of committing to the things she had said she was going to do and it annoys her that her resolve is so weak. Being touched by Sylvain, nevermind held by him, feels counterproductive to that. But the brief hold is enough to nudge some of the tension she's been holding in her body since she had arrived back in the loft that day.

It does not however dispel the hurt and she can't bring herself to relax into Sylvain's lap. In fact, once he's seated she slips off onto the bed leaving space between them and refuses to meet his eyes even when he tugs at her hair. Reaching for empathy when she had been angry as she had at Claude also felt like conceding. The angry creature that had clawed its way up her throat hadn't cared what feelings were hurt in the process of its rampage. ]

I find it hard to believe that after seven months of being here he never found a good time to tell me. [ Briefly, anger flares in her voice. She'd never had a monopoly on his time, but they'd had moments alone together. They could have spoken about it then. ] And so what if we're not through the war yet? Isn't that what friends are there for? To share that burden? And don't we deserve to know?

[ The knowledge that both she and Sylvain had died in another timeline, that she could very well still meet the same fate should she return to Fodlan tomorrow hangs heavy in the air. Just because some version of her was still alive in Claude's timeline didn't mean that she would remain alive if she returned tomorrow. Talking about it only serves to dredge up remnants of the emotions that had never really left like hurt. Like jealousy. ]

Something was different between us. You know he didn't even contact me when you two were first taken? He contacted Petra first. Which is fine - she's capable and strong and could have found you two if it was just being lost in the desert but he didn't even contact me until later. And if it was him not wanting him to be my friend, he should have told me too. [ Her voice catches but she pushes on. ] I would have just lived somewhere else sooner.

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