Byleth's hand falls to his side, the descent slow as he ponders whether he should regret it or not. Maintaining the touch had felt right. In his mind, refusing to break contact was the same as reinforcing his desire to stay together, but if in the process he caused his companion discomfort then perhaps he'd been wrong. It's still too difficult to judge what's too farβand what actions are more akin to treating Dimitri like a child than the adult he's become.
At his side, Byleth's fingers spread before curling toward his palm. Rather than dwelling on that or the solemn way Dimitri collects his belongings, he tries to make a list of the supplies he'll need. Bandages. Water, boiled preferably. Fresh clothes, as the garments Dimitri plucks from the ground are doubtlessly too caked in blood and grime to be worn. A twinge comes from his chest at the sight of them, not that they're the worst reminder of what Dimitri has endured these past few years. Even so, the thought he'd lost a moment ago returns. He wants things to be how they were before. Back when Dimitri relied on him, confided in him, and most of all allowed him to share his burdens.
Byleth tries once more to shove such unfair wishes away. Having them in the first place is what's truly cruel. Dimitri is still Dimitri, and he's certain that there's more of the boy he used to know left than the glimpses he's seen.
When his student (former student, his mind supplies. These corrections come too slowly and each feels more awkward than the last) moves, he follows. He makes sure to keep pace with Dimitri, going neither a step ahead nor a step behind just in case something goes amiss. ]
As much as I'd like to let you rest in your room tonight, the dust and debris will only aggravate your injuries. [ Though the same can be said for most rooms in the monastery. He has been able to clean his own room and the classroom, butβ
No, there's no "but." Dimitri's condition is already poor, there's no sense in placing him anywhere that might worsen it. ] I'm afraid you'll have to settle for my room tonight. I can prepare yours tomorrow when it's bright enough to see what I'm moving.
no subject
Byleth's hand falls to his side, the descent slow as he ponders whether he should regret it or not. Maintaining the touch had felt right. In his mind, refusing to break contact was the same as reinforcing his desire to stay together, but if in the process he caused his companion discomfort then perhaps he'd been wrong. It's still too difficult to judge what's too farβand what actions are more akin to treating Dimitri like a child than the adult he's become.
At his side, Byleth's fingers spread before curling toward his palm. Rather than dwelling on that or the solemn way Dimitri collects his belongings, he tries to make a list of the supplies he'll need. Bandages. Water, boiled preferably. Fresh clothes, as the garments Dimitri plucks from the ground are doubtlessly too caked in blood and grime to be worn. A twinge comes from his chest at the sight of them, not that they're the worst reminder of what Dimitri has endured these past few years. Even so, the thought he'd lost a moment ago returns. He wants things to be how they were before. Back when Dimitri relied on him, confided in him, and most of all allowed him to share his burdens.
Byleth tries once more to shove such unfair wishes away. Having them in the first place is what's truly cruel. Dimitri is still Dimitri, and he's certain that there's more of the boy he used to know left than the glimpses he's seen.
When his student (former student, his mind supplies. These corrections come too slowly and each feels more awkward than the last) moves, he follows. He makes sure to keep pace with Dimitri, going neither a step ahead nor a step behind just in case something goes amiss. ]
As much as I'd like to let you rest in your room tonight, the dust and debris will only aggravate your injuries. [ Though the same can be said for most rooms in the monastery. He has been able to clean his own room and the classroom, butβ
No, there's no "but." Dimitri's condition is already poor, there's no sense in placing him anywhere that might worsen it. ] I'm afraid you'll have to settle for my room tonight. I can prepare yours tomorrow when it's bright enough to see what I'm moving.