philancer | Inbox: Abraxas

[ The cheeky response is met by Hilda's own blank stare before the iciest smile spreads thinly across her features. She hadn't dispelled Perry earlier. In fact, the magical apparition still lingered. Lingered behind Sylvain that is.

With a mighty force invisible hands force the hat firmly over Sylvain's head and briefly, into his line of sight. ][ It's clear that the unseen servant is doing anything but due to its mistress' bidding. After a moment though, the hat is pushed back so that it sits at an appropriate jaunty angle. The last thing to be put back into place is the ribbon. ]

There. Much better.

See? Now the hat’s possessed. I told you they have it in for me.

[ Before she can stop him, he yanks it playfully off his head and tosses it to the side.

Where it lands on the head of one of the stone statues they have scattered about the terrace, among all the greenery. His cheeky grin remains as he glances back to Hilda. ]

See? That’s much better. I could have called Khurshid out to eat it.

[ Even her own reflexes aren't fast enough to have Perry catch the hat that's tossed aside with reckless abandon. She lets out a gasp that is very much real and offended. Immediately she pushes herself up from her seat rushing over to the statue. Annoyance and a pout both bubble into her voice as she strains to reach her hat because of course it managed to land on one of the tallest statutes they had out here. Why did they even have tall statues out on the terrace? ]

He doesn't chew on hats he chews on socks!

[ Slippers in the loft had become commonplace and she hadn't bothered to put any shoes on as she had stepped outside leaving her barefoot now. Although even with heels she'd still have difficulty reaching for her slightly mangled hat. Her fingers brush the edge of the hat but to no avail. She'd strain further were it not for the fact that she's still trying to be somewhat gentle with her wounds. ]

This is one of my favourite hats! You could have flung it off the terrace. What are you doing, you brute?!

It was self-defense! It tried to eat my head. Again.

[ He’s well aware of the ridiculousness of that statement and his cheeky grin says that’s probably on purpose, even as he pushes to his feet to come up behind her.

He could easily reach for the hat, of course, but instead, he leaves it precisely where it is and scoops her carefully up into his arms instead, turning to carry her away from their now very fancy statue. He heads for the bench swing they have set up under the arbor, sinking down onto it with her on his lap instead. ]

There, much better. Now we’re both out of the sun and can’t be threatened by demon hats any longer.

[ Even though he’s now eyeing hers with speculation, as if considering giving it the same fate as his. ]

And that means you have to fling it off into the street?

[ It was relatively difficult to draw Hilda's ire but mistreating her clothes is certainly one way to fast track someone towards it. The tips of her toes are the only thing left on the concrete and the hat is just within her grasp when suddenly she feels the ground fall away from her. For a moment she thinks that he's about to lift her the rest of the way to retrieve her sunhat and is sorely mistaken. It slips through her fingers once again and she lets out a noise of disbelief as Sylvain carries her in the opposite direction.

Still annoyed by the turn of events she gives his chest a sharp prod with her finger while the other immediately presses her hat closer to her hair. ]

Oh, no you don't. I swear, Sylvain. I'm just trying to do something nice for you and you're being so difficult!

It’s not off in the street, it’s looking very fancy on Delores over there.

[ Did he just make up a name for the statue on the spot? He sure did. Don’t look at him like that.

Still, he’s still grinning down at her as they settle on the swing with her stretched sideways across his lap, his arms comfortably draped around her waist. It’s hard not to grin, with the look she’s giving him. She’s way too adorable when riled up. It’s really not fair.

Still he gives her a half-serious nod in response to her accusation and the jab to his chest. ] I seem to recall it being my job around here to be the difficult one. [ Claude would probably argue that, actually, and claim it for himself. ] But I’m done being difficult now. We can go back to playing nice now that my head is safe.

[ Even without having spent far more time with him here than she ever had in Fodlan, she would have to be completely oblivious to not see that he didn't seem to care one bit that she's several minutes away from tossing him to the other side of the terrace and maybe, accidentally, being the cause of a very bad physical injury.

That being said, she doesn't even miss a beat, accepting the fact that the statue now has a name. ]

Well Delores can get her own hat. It isn't meant for her.

[ That comes off far more petulant that she intends but her annoyance far outweighs any tone policing she might do otherwise. ]

It is your job but that doesn't mean that you have to be difficult to me. Be difficult to Claude!

[ She moves to swing her legs back onto the ground so she can retrieve her hat. What if an rogue gust of wind came out of nowhere? What if a bird swooped down and took it? All of those things seem more important than the topic she had come to speak to him about. ]

[ He catches her legs before she can swing them away, dragging her back more firmly onto his lap, even as he leans in to drop a kiss on the tip of her nose. ]

I can be equally difficult to you both. There’s more than enough of me to go around, after all.

[ It’s said lightly enough, but there’s a hint of knowing in his gaze as he remains hovering close to her face, and the upturned nose he’d just kissed. ]

Now. Are we done being distracted so you can tell me what you wanted to talk about?

[ Something that should absolutely be an exclamation of rage pushes past her lip at the sudden kiss to her nose were it not for the fact that the heat that rushes to her cheeks has a decidedly more embarrassed flavour.

All the same, the sudden kiss has her holding a hand to cover her nose and lips while the other hand finds purchase on his face in order to push it away in a fit of both embarrassment and indignation at being unable to go and retrieve her own damn hat.

Some of that may also have to do with the knowing glint in his eyes but she doesn't want to address that. It seems dangerously close to bordering on things that she is no where near prepared to discuss. Her voice comes out muffled as she glares at him. ]

I was once told that being focused and dedicated to one subject would show great results. I think your distracting efforts would be better directed towards Claude.

[ There's a beat before she realizes she's been spinning wildly off track, something that she can't even be certain is something she's doing subconsciously. Nerves bubble in her stomach again and the heat in her eyes dims somewhat. Why the nerves are there is beyond her. This is just a normal conversation about their mutual roommate that one of them is sleeping and might have feelings for if Hilda's astute observations are correct (Sylvain) while the other has no idea what to do about recent revelations (her).

It's cut and dry so long as she ignores the tight squeeze of her heart at the thought of the two men together. ]

Actually, that is something I wanted to talk to you about. Claude that is.

[ He might have teased her further if she hadn’t started to wilt over the fact that he’d circled the topic back around to whatever had brought her out her in the first place.

She’s fidgeting now and he can all but see the nerves churning up in her. Tucking a finger under her chin, he turns her face up towards him, his own gaze narrowing in suspicion. ]

What did the bastard do this time? Want me to beat him up for you?

[ Claude, you’d been doing so well. What now?! ]

Wha – no! He didn't do anything wrong.

[ Surprise flashes across her face, eyes widening and her hand falls from her mouth. So taken aback by the immediate declaration she doesn't even register precisely how funny it is that that had been Sylvain's first reaction to her mentioning wanting to speak about Claude, let alone if that reaction means anything more than a friend wanting to stick up for her.

His words momentarily manage to cut like a knife through the tension. Gives her enough momentum to quickly amend herself and work past the mountain of nerves. ]

We spoke when we were at the spa in Libertas and made up. [ There's a brief split second of hesitation wondering where the mental list points she'd had in mind before this talk had suddenly gone. ] We're trying to figure out what that means and where to go from here - not that I know what that even looks like because I'm not the one who plans anything to begin with so -

[ If she doesn't stop herself she'll ramble. In fact, she already is. Hilda stops herself immediately beginning to absently fidget with whatever ring she's wearing that day, gaze darting down to the gem that sparkles in the light. ]

What I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry that you were caught in the middle of something that that I did and that I said things to you that I didn't mean to say. I was selfish for letting that happen in the first place. And I really don't deserve you as my - [ Her brain stutters for a moment, her heart protesting oddly at the word 'friend' even though that's exactly what they are. Pink patches bloom on her cheeks. She's quick to amend herself. ] in my life. I'm going to be better about supporting you two in the future because that's what you both deserve.

[ There's no point voicing doubts she has that it's something that "whatever this is" can even work with Claude. Not because of him or because of Sylvain but because of her. Not when the jealous monster lurks, biding it's time over her shoulder. ]

[ He listens as she blurts the words out, one eyebrow arching slightly as he digests what she’s telling him.

He’d picked up on the change - he knew them both too well to not notice the shift once again between them - but to have her lay it out like this gives him a moment to observe her in the telling of it at the same time.

Her admission raises about three dozen questions in his own head, but there’ll be time for that later. And if he cheats a little and listens to her emotions as well as her voice… well, what she doesn’t know she can’t hit him for. ]

Soooo. [ He drawls after a long moment of contemplation. ] No beating him up, then?

[ Nervousness wells up inside of her, reaching out to every limb and toe as she awaits his response or reaction. His silence encourages her hyperactive imagination, generating scenarios and reactions that are all more outlandish and ridiculous than the last. The arched eyebrow for example is easily turned into a pair of furrowed ones in her mind that become angrier and more furious for no rhyme or reason.

But when his answer finally arrives and time seems to speed up back to the present it has her blinking at him in confusion. In the myriad of scenarios she had conjured up in what had to be the last thirty second at most, she hadn't been expecting that. ]

...No?

[ She leans closer towards him, bewilderment spreading across her features as if that would reveal precisely whether or not he was trying to tease her again. ]

No, I just said we made up. And I apologized. To you. Aren't we going to talk about that? And you really don't have any questions except, "No beating him up, then?"

[ Over the course of her reply bewilderment fringes on mild incredulousness even as she does a startingly good impression of him. ]

[ There’s a flicker of amusement in his gaze as he takes in her bewildered expression.

He holds up a finger, starting to count off his answers to that string of questions. ] First of all, you’ve already apologized to me. Multiple times. And then promised to stop apologizing. Which you just broke, by the way, but I’ll forgive you this once.

Secondly, I sorta guessed that you and Claude had made up because you’re actually willingly in the loft again and hanging out for fun instead of avoiding this place - and us - like we all have the plague.

I’m not sure what reaction you expected from me about that, considering I’ve been the one trying to get you two to actually talk about this for weeks… months? Now. [ Which is when that amusement flares visibly in his gaze once more, lingering fully this time. ] Can I say ‘I told you so’ yet?

[ His response continues to send her for a loop. How is she supposed to react to that? Does she get annoyed at him because she feels like there's an oncoming storm of teasing on the horizon? Is she supposed to act surprised because he admitted to knowing something had changed even without the details of what that entailed? Worry because he doesn't seem to be reacting in a way that she thought he would (that thought however is quickly shot down because not everyone was a drama queen like she was), or does she get annoyed at him because he just told her so?

The last one. Definitely the last one.

Annoyance flares up in her eyes and her cheeks puff up as she swats his hand. ]

First of all, I don't remember making that promise. And I don't think it's very nice of you to be making fun of be because I was really nervous about telling you and you're just making fun of me. Again.

Two, you two do have the plague and it's called gross, dumb man germs. [ There's a little less venom in that teasing joke. ] You just both happen to be immune to them so you don't notice its effects. And third, no! Because who knows if this will even work out between us. There's other things we have to sort through. Like -

[ "Like how I have very complicated feelings towards the both of you being together," is on the tip of her tongue but she shuts her mouth before it manages to spill out. Instead she huffs and turns her gaze away from him instead and towards the statue wearing her hat. Pinpricks of annoyance and guilt build at the corner of her eyes. ]

No, you can't tell me that.

Too late.

[ He informs her of this cheerfully, not at all bothered by the way she puffs up like a puffer fish. He valiantly resists the urge to pinch her cheeks, because that's not gonna help his case here in the least. Even if it is really tempting.

Instead, he cradles her cheeks in both his palms, smiling down at her fondly. ]

What do you have to be nervous about, silly girl? Did you actually think I'd be upset about this? [ He might have somewhat complicated feelings about it, but that's all on him, not her, and he still can't even say he's upset. More... wondering if his expiration date has just been moved up quicker than he was expecting. Eh. He wasn't going to let himself worry about that yet. ]

Hilda. Listen to me. I'm glad you and Claude have finally patched things up. Relieved, even. It's been hell, watching you two tear yourselves apart because you were both missing a big chunk of your hearts. That man has been stupid in love with you since we were all at the Academy together, I'd wager. He needs you. And you need him. If you both are talking and trying to be on the same page again, then I have no doubt you'll figure out a way to make this work.

[ His thumb brushes lightly against her cheek as he holds her gaze, wanting her to understand he was serious. ] I can't be upset about this, because there's been a shadow in his eyes ever since you two fought, and it's only gotten darker in the days since. You two belong side by side and that's where I want to see you again.

So yes, I knew something had changed again between the two of you. I could see it when he smiled. And I can see it in the looks you two exchange. Or the ones you cast each other when you think the other one isn't paying attention. I'm not making fun of you, sweet, I swear, I'm just relieved that now maybe this place will stop feeling so heavy, so empty, without you. He missed you. I missed you.

[ A small petty part of her vows to make him regret saying that. That she would remember this moment and relish at a time in the future that she could turn those words right back around on him. Even with the misty eyes she’s blinking furiously in the hopes that it would dispel her exasperated tears, the quiet resolution burns in her gaze as he cradles her cheeks.

Met with his amused expression another whine of frustration comes from the back of her throat along with the urge to tear her gaze away again. Both are immediately quelled as he speaks.

It’s incredibly embarrassing being told, “I told you so,” again except this time with far less smugness and far more seriousness than before. The word “love” hadn’t passed between she and Claude that day in Libertas; she knew deep down that’s what she felt for him but a mix of stubbornness (she would not be the first one to say it because that feels like stroking an ego that already gives her grief) and fear kept her from saying so. They had both skirted around giving a name to their feelings. That felt like the safest option considering their decision to go slow and attempt to do all of the steps that they had skipped. A part of her still tempers her expectations, waiting for the day that they stop trying. Love can’t factor into that because it would make the failure sting.

It’s also embarrassing the way that her heart swells, not at Claude’s apparent forlorn behaviour without her in this loft, or the way that Sylvain describes the looks of affection allegedly passed between them. It’s the way Sylvain says he missed her. And it’s that that cracks open the damn of tears. Her face scrunches up as pink eyes well. Arms wrap around his neck as she buries her face in the crook of his neck so he can be spared how she looks when she’s crying.

There’s so much she wants to say. Like how she sick’s with envy over the person he’s become and changed into, the type of person she wishes she could be, the type of person she’s humbled to know. How sorry she is for being jealous about something that is good for the two people who had become her world. Her home. How, as greedy as she is, and as paradoxical as it may sound, a part of her almost hopes that it doesn’t work out with Claude so Sylvain can be happy because they fit better together than she thinks ever could.

Instead she settles for sobs and, ]

I missed you too.

[ He blinks when she suddenly bursts into tears and flings her arms around his neck, his own arms automatically coming to wrap around her as he tucks her closer to his chest. One hand comes up to stroke against the back of her hair while the other smooths along her spine, attempting to soothe her. Although with the way it feels like she's currently soaking his shoulder, he doesn't expect that to happen right away. ]

Hey, now. What's all this? I'm right here, sweetheart. You don't have to miss me anymore. I'm not going anywhere. I didn't mean to make you cry.

[ That last statement might hold the faintest bit of alarm in it, because he's never been good with girls in tears. The fact that it's Hilda only makes it all the worse. ]

What's wrong, Princess? Talk to me.

[ Somehow his words only seem to have the opposite effect, calling forth more tears and wracking her body.

An overactive imagination with a flair for dramatics does her a disservice now, calling forth worries that she would be left behind. In typical fanciful fashion, it doesn't stop there, spiraling further down a rabbit hole of reality that could be very real should she leave Abraxas for a timeline without him. Her grip tightens around him feeling like heart is being squeezed with so much pressure it could burst for reasons that she can't quite explain. Like the very thought of losing him in any way shape or form hurts more viscerally than thought it could. How someone who didn't care as much as Sylvain did would have been done with her behaviour long ago.

In her despair she hears the alarm in his voice. She's quick to shake her head into his shoulder trying her best to quell the rising guilt for being the cause. ]

Nothing. I just missed you so much.

[ She doesn’t pull back, and in fact, for a moment he thinks she might even start crying harder. At a loss for how to make this better, he just wraps more snugly about her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before resting his chin atop it, tucking her in against his chest and cradling her there warmly. ]

I’m right here, sweet. I’m not going anywhere, not if I have a say in it, anyway. You’re breaking my heart here, Princess. You know how much I hate making girls cry.

[ Not that it had stopped him from doing it, of course, but Hilda had never - and would never - fall into that category. She had one all her own, after all. ]

Here. [ He fishes around in one of his pockets for a clean handkerchief and brings it up to her face in offering. ]

[ Her response only comes after she sniffles several times in quick succession in an attempt to catch her breath. The soothing quality of his hand against her spine does help ground her some, as does the familiar scent of him. Unbidden a thought flits through her mind: crying aside, she doesn't want to be apart from him . ]

You didn't make me cry.

[ Well he had, but not in the way that he might imply that he had. She looks up, face splotchy, red and running at his offer. All too aware of that she's quick to pluck the handkerchief from him. Burying her face into it, there's a dainty honk followed by burying her face into it. ]

You mean you don't want your shirt acting as a handkerchief?

I think we’re a little too late for that. [ There’s amusement layered in his voice as he reaches to slide a fingertip against a wet cheek, catching a stray tear she’d missed. ] But I don’t really mind.

[ When she’s done with the handkerchief, he cups her face in his hands once more, cradling it gently. ]

Feel better now?

[ Inadvertently she leans into his touch however light and brief it is. As if her realization has amplified the way she had missed him and now any small piece, any scrap he offered would begin to fill up the spaces her forced absence had created. ]

Don't say that. What if someone takes advantage of that?

[ There's reluctance to pull her face up from her handkerchief but the need to be close makes her acquiesce. She soaks in the warmth of his palms against her damp cheeks even though she feels the familiar guilt creep in at the edges. ]

A little. [ She sniffles, trying to bring some levity to this situation. ] I'd feel better if my hat wasn't on Delores' head.

Your hat is perfectly safe and sound and I’m sure Delores is appreciating being fashionable very much right now.

[ Yeah, he’s not retrieving that anytime soon. ]

And you’re the only one here to take advantage of me right now. [ He adds this with a playful wink, joining in on her attempt at levity. Tugging her close once more, he wraps his arms warmly around her, giving a soft, musical hum of amusement. ] Whatever will I do?

[ Her voice is nothing short of a whine as she attempts to wriggle then out of his grasp so she can go retrieve her hat before the wind can have its way with it. ]

Sylvain!

[ As soon as she tries, she's met with resistance in the form of his arms tightening around her. She lets out a noise of protest again. Despite knowing full well he's kidding she can't stand the thought of actually taking advantage of him. Her stomach curls at the thought. ]

You don't really think that I take advantage of you, do you?

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