[ Sylvain lets his gaze drop, a hint of shame stinging him all the same. That he can't... he doesn't know what to do with those words Wriothesley had given him. Wasn't sure he believed them, for one, and if they were true... meant that Wriothesley's judgement of him was direly questionable at best.
He wasn't safe. Had never been safe. He was a disaster just waiting to happen. It was inevitable.
But he tries to laugh off that sting of regret, the ache of wishing he could have offered more than that. There's still something wistful in his tone, all the same, even if he's not fully aware of it. ]
I think you'll find I don't blush easily. Even with pretty flattery. [ Especially with pretty flattery. he's heard far too much of it, and all of it empty. ]
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Date: 2024-06-01 01:39 am (UTC)He wasn't safe. Had never been safe. He was a disaster just waiting to happen. It was inevitable.
But he tries to laugh off that sting of regret, the ache of wishing he could have offered more than that. There's still something wistful in his tone, all the same, even if he's not fully aware of it. ]
I think you'll find I don't blush easily. Even with pretty flattery. [ Especially with pretty flattery. he's heard far too much of it, and all of it empty. ]