[ Sylvain had taken the jaw back with a crooked smile and begun to pour himself a glass when Olivine continues speaking. It’s enough for his hand to falter a little, the liquid slowing before he comes back to himself and deliberately finishes filling his glass.

He takes a slow, measured sip to brace himself, enjoying the flavor of it, different to most flavors he’s used to back home. Sweet, but not too much so. ]

Let me guess, they’re pretty obsessed with ‘perfection’, too? Whoever they are? Impossible expectations you’re never gonna be able to manage to meet? Or if you get close, the bar just gets moved higher?