philancer | Inbox: Abraxas

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?

[ He just keeps playing along, ignoring her protest.

Instead, he just gives a dismayed little sigh, sagging against her. ]

I guess not, unfortunately. I'll have to just keep hoping.

Edited 2023-10-23 00:00 (UTC)

[ Even if Sylvain had been putting his full weight on her, Hilda probably would have been able to handle it - and just as easily toss him off. Being able to handle it and wanting to handle it however are two different things. Letting another whine out, she crumples against the additional weight giving absolutely no support to his body despite the way her palms push against him. Who said she couldn't multitask being equally as dramatic while simultaneously being very concerned about this new possibility that she hadn't considered before?

Genuine concern coils together with cold dread in the pit of her stomach and she stills, pushing against him firmly this time with some force behind it. Claude and Sylvain not yet defining what they were along with Hilda being uncertain of how she would feel if they did decide to be together still makes her feel like her path forward with either of them is uncertain. If trying to be with Claude would be her inadvertently taking advantage of Sylvain she didn't want that. She didn't want to do that no matter the circumstances. ]

I'm serious. I never want to do that to anyone, especially people I care about.

[ He blinks, realizing she’d taken that the wrong way, which has him straightening up once more and letting his hands drop to catch her wrists in a warm grip as she shoves at him. ]

Sweetheart. I think we’re talking about two entirely separate things here. [ A finger slides under her chin, tipping her face towards him once more. ] Talk to me. What are you so afraid of? Trying to keep it buried or ignoring it isn’t going to do you any good. It’ll just fester under the surface. At least let me help you work through it with you?

[ Hilda realizes her mistake belatedly. Something already has festered, she thinks. Festered and clawed its way from her throat. The very thought drags lightly along her skin as a quiet reminder that her jealousy still remained and was unlikely to leave her any time soon despite recent revelations.

Sylvain's offer should have brought her comfort but instead her panic mounts. She shoves it the coil down, trying to pretend them away with a weak laugh. ]

Oops, were we? You were so convincing, Sylvain.

[ This isn't something she can completely backtrack from though she realizes. A dismissal like the one on her lips wouldn't be swept under the rug. ]

I've just...decided that I don't want to be a burden on people anymore. And taking advantage of people is what happens when I do too much of that.

[ His gaze narrows as she tries to laugh that off and his thumb and forefinger tighten against her chin for a moment as he narrows his gaze at her. ]

Don’t do that.

[ It’s not sharp, the chiding, but there is an edge to it, layered beneath the uncommonly serious tone he utters it in. ]

I can count on one hand the times I can recall you being exasperating enough that I would consider you taking advantage and almost all of them happened when we were back in school when you were busy foisting off your assigned chores on the closest available target. That was a long time ago, Hilda.

You are not a burden and I’m not even sure why you would think you are. In what ways do you think you’ve taken advantage of me here?

[ Inwardly she flinches. Sharp or not she still feels the edge to his voice, subconsciously hearing it after days spent together. There's some level of shame that rises in there too at the mention of her old habits - probably moreso than the time that Sylvain had specifically called her out. Her younger self had been more shameless, and far less concerned about what the Gautier hier playboy thought of her lazy tendencies.

Now however...

His question makes her shift uncomfortably as it edges closer and closer to a topic that she'd prefer to avoid airing out with him. Claude had been one thing and difficult enough to admit. Sylvain is completely uncharted territory and part of the reason she had her reservations about her and Claude. ]

You've been taking care of me since I got here. And been forgiving when you shouldn't have. You left me all of those sweet notes and made me those treats and took care of me when I was recovering. You cook for me when you really don't have to - if there's anyone you should be cooking for it should be Claude.

[ She winces, her next words coming out halting. ]

And we've kissed and in the Feywilds you - we - you should be focusing your energy on Claude.

[ He’s watching her with growing skepticism until she voices that last part and then understanding flares in amber eyes as he huffs out a breath that is half-exasperated-laugh and half-sigh. ]

That’s what this is about, then. Don’t worry, I’m still cooking for Claude, that’s not going to keep me from cooking for you, too, you realize. Or, here’s an idea, both of you. Since, last time I checked, you both need to eat and seemed to enjoy my cooking and it’s really no extra effort to feed two of you rather than just the one.

[ There’s a metaphor in there, but he’s not going to bother explaining it. He doubts she’d hear him anyway. ]

And trust me, I still recall our kiss - and everything else that happened - in the Feywilds quite vividly. And I still have zero regrets about any of it. I also seem to recall, before everything went to shit, the three of us sharing a hotel room quite comfortably and not just that, sharing a bed and - perhaps more importantly - sharing each other.

Is that option suddenly no longer on the table here? Because if not, I’d prefer you be up front with me about it now. Because if you don’t? I’m very much going to kiss you again. Probably many times. Maybe even corner you somewhere and have an encore of our little treat in the Feywilds. Because, sweetheart, I’m far from sated yet, you only gave me a taste.

[ Everything about that statement is no-nonsense and absolutely honest as he gazes at her intently, his eyes locked on her face, waiting for her reaction to that.

It’s definitely a far step from his typical charms and flirtations. But he’s just spent weeks watching her and Claude bleed each other dry because they couldn’t just say what they wanted. And while Claude… is his own complication right now, he’s pretty sure he has a better idea of where Hilda might stand.

…Or stood, maybe, before whatever this is with Claude started resolving itself. Now he’s back on unstable ground again. With both of them. Trying to figure out what his place is here.

Or if he even still has one. ]

Edited 2023-10-25 22:14 (UTC)

[ The metaphor does go over her head overridden by the multitude of other things being thrown at her at once. She'd be annoyed at his initial reaction and assumption that he knew what had been plaguing her this entire time if it weren't for the fact that she had just thrown just as much information at him seconds before. Annoyance blooms anyway - except most of it is directed at herself.

In an ideal world he would have simply agreed that she had been taking advantage of him all this time. He would have said nothing about wanting to be with her physically because he only cared to be with someone like Claude or Jesper like that. It would have been the path of least resistance, an absolution of sorts and would have made her still waffling decision about her and Claude easier in some ways. But Sylvain had done none of those things. Heat builds in her cheeks as each admission falls from his lips. There's no teasing, no flirtatious gaze. None of the usual signs telling her that this is a joke. No, this is the truth of how he feels. Of what he wants from her. As a look of uncertainty and shock settles on her face her mouth parts. ]

But –

[ A single syllable manages to stutter past her teeth. She shouldn't have ventured down this path in the first place. Why hadn't she just left it at that and claimed she was tired or hungry? Just because Sylvain is fine with wanting her like that and Claude was too to some degree didn't mean that she was. And hadn't that been part and parcel as part of the problem? Isn't that what she had been worried about and told Sylvain as much at least when it came to them?

His words replay back before it goes further still to the conversation when she had discovered he had been Lief. All of it compounded together sinks her heart a little lower than it had been before for a reason she can't understand. Despite the pink patches blooming on her cheeks, the shocked expression turns into something a little more resigned.]

Is that all you want? Just to be with me physically?

[ His serious expression remains, but there’s a hint of uncertainty that creeps into his gaze as he waits for her to respond - and then huffs out another of those breathy laughs when she just answers him with another question instead. ]

You realize this isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation, right? Although I’m pretty sure you were too drunk last time to remember any of it. You asked me that last time, too.

Physically is part of it, sure. I’m pretty sure I’ve made no secret about the fact that I want you. More of you. Or even just again. I don’t want you to think that was just idle flirting.

But further than that… I don’t know, Hilda. You tell me? I don’t know where you stand right now. What’s more important to you? Not blurring more lines and complicating things between us? Or seeing where this goes? Because this is uncharted territory for me here. I’m flying blind.

People don’t come to me for more that just physically, or if they do, it’s because they’ve got ulterior motives. And if anyone else had asked me that, my answer would be my typical one, and emphatic to boot. But you’re not like anyone else, and none of my rules ever apply to you like maybe they should.

You’re working things out with Claude, and I’m content with that, if that’s all you want it to be. I have no intention of interfering there at all, other than being a listening ear if either of you need it, or maybe kicking you both in the ass if you ever do something this stupid ever again. Only an idiot wouldn’t be able to see how in love you two are with each other. And have been for years. [ Yeah. Shade. He’s throwing it. ]

But as for you and me, Hilda? I don’t know. I don’t know where I stand. What you want. But you’re sober this time, so tell me. What do you want? If it’s just a fun fling, then fine, we’ll be up front and honest about it from the start and that’s all it will be. But if you want something different, you’re gonna have to be honest about that, too. Because I… I don’t really know how to do that.

[ The knee jerk reaction to interject is immediate. ]

What do you mean we've talked about this – ?

[ What feels like a cold, nervous sweat breaks at the back of her neck as he continues on. It's the same feeling she'd had when she had woken up naked in her bed after drinking herself silly and saying Goddess knew what to Sylvain that one summer's night. It isn't that she hadn't forgotten the morning after or even some of the parts of the hazy night prior to it. It's more like she hadn't thought to think further into what "talking about them" could have possibly entailed. There had been a number of reasons for it. Sylvain had offered few details, she had been too flustered by her state and the fact that he'd kissed her again after her steady resolve that that wouldn't happen, her own spiraling heartache, and of course, she had written it off as some sort of kindness that he was trying to show her after she had made a fool of herself several times over.

The last thing she had expected was for him to bring it up again. And yet.

Her mind stutters, suddenly unable to form sentences mostly because she has no idea what to say. What did she want with Sylvain? She knew what her body wanted, how it reacted to him, how she caught herself on more than one occasion admiring him from afar. But there was something else too. Faint somethings tugged at her heart that sometimes seemed too wistful and fleeting to make sense of because she stilled them as soon as they began for fear of what they could be. For fear of it feeding the jealous creature that had crawled its way out of her throat. She worries her bottom lip, nerves bubbling in her stomach, more pink brightening her cheeks. Instinct wants her to run in the other direction. She doesn't want to have another conversation about feelings, about what she wants, especially when that still shifts unsteadily from hour to hour.

Except she knows she can't run. The image of his hurt expression is burned into her brain and it's one that she had resolved that she would never be the cause of again. Surely being truthful with him can't be worse than what she had done before. When she finally does speak, it's quiet, sounding like someone who's torn her heart up thinking about this. ]

I don't know what I want either.

[ There's another pause, words tumbling over themselves in her mind. ]

I just know that you mean so much to me. And that I can't bear the thought of not having you in my life which I know is selfish because I'm so jealous thinking about you and Claude together. [ Shame begins to creep across her face and its heat creeps across her chest. ] All I want is for the both of you to be happy because you deserve it more than me, more than anyone else I know, but I feel so sick to my stomach thinking about you both together. I don't know if I can even be with Claude without feeling like this.

And if I think about us together - [ She falters, eyes flitting away but hand clutching his tight. ] if I think about us together I feel guilty. [ Understanding how that sounds she winces, quickly amending herself. ] I feel scared about what could happen if I ruin it. If I ruin us. I almost ruined my relationship with Claude because of how awful I was.

You, sweetheart, [ he contradicts her with a gentle chide, tapping her chin with his fingertips, ] deserve happiness as much as anyone. Maybe even moreso.

So let’s take this one thing at a time, alright? I’m not intending to go anywhere. You - both of you together and individually - mean far too much to me for me to walk away now. That’s the last thing I want. We’re all in this together, right?

And no offense to Claude, but I’m pretty sure he’s at least halfway responsible for whatever misunderstanding happened between you. What happened between you was both of your contributions, and then your reluctance to come out and talk about it afterwards. I’m pretty sure neither of you are gonna be likely to make a mistake like that again.

Not to mention, [ he adds wryly after a moment, one corner of his lips quirking faintly, although there’s the faintest hint of a shadow in his gaze. ] I’m far more likely to ruin things than you, when it comes down to it. It’s sort of how my luck runs, you know? Not that I plan on doing that, but…

[ It still felt inevitable, anyway. ]

But if you think for a moment either of us could be happy when you’re sad or miserable, you haven’t been paying very close attention to how much you mean to us.

[ While his words make her flush, there's still something she can't shake. Just like with Claude, she can't help but be surprised that there's no reaction - or rather that there's acceptance - from Sylvain when she admits her jealousy. There's no concern, no worry, no chiding that she wears this ugly emotion like a cold, sharp jewel against her throat. ]

I wouldn't be sad or miserable. I'd be fine...eventually.

[ The protest is only a bridge to the rest of what she wants to say because his non-issue feels akin to him glossing over something she thinks can't so easily be ignored. Despite him saying they're in this together (whatever 'this' is), she can't fathom taking this one step at a time when she doesn't have the first clue where to step. Not when there's an imposing mountain ahead of her that she can't possibly hope to climb. Not when she spots that shadow flit across his face like a cloud passing in front of the sun.

She gently shakes off his hand from her chin, cupping his face gently so she can brush her thumbs over the bones of his cheek as if that will send the cloud away. ]

I think you have more luck than you give yourself credit for. [ There's quiet conviction in her voice. Like if he wills it, why wouldn't it happen? ] You just have to give it room to grow.

[ There's a heaviness in her heart that shouldn't be there after being told that she's wanted. That he won't leave. It's so similar to the feeling she'd felt when Claude told her he'd had feelings for her. She hadn't known what to make of it then. She doesn't know now. Is it her fear of expectation and the subsequent disappointment they'd feel? Her fear of trying? Or a fear of what could be?

Resignation creeps into her gaze and her voice like she still believes this false truth she'd convinced herself of only a couple months before. Even if she's actively trying to be present in her feelings, to believe and rewrite a new reality, a part of her can't shake the old narrative. ]

There are some days where I still think you'd be happier with him. You're both so alike sometimes that it's annoying. You look so good beside one another. You fit each other well even if you don't think that or see it. [ She swallows, catching herself on a sharp edge of jealousy and doubt. ] And he doesn't get jealous or if he does it's not destructively like me.

...I just don't understand why the both of you are okay with that. What if this doesn't work? What if I lose you both? I'm trying to be better because I don't think I deserve either of you right now.

Edited 2023-10-28 08:00 (UTC)

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.

Inbox: Abraxas

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