[ he's surprised he allows himself to dress down in front of him. for a moment sylvain looked alarmed, as if he were about to reach for something else in his person - a dagger, anything - but he removes his awful cloak and armour besides and seats himself on the bed as he tends to himself. sylvain wants to tell him - clean the wound out first, it's no good if you just tend to it like that - but he notes the anger in his voice and he is chastised by it. more than that, he told him not to move. a cornered rat will bite.
instead, he runs a hand over his red hair as he watches him. listens to him. does he enjoy it? it's not really so much as enjoyment as wanting to be free. all his life he's always decided that he will do what he wishes. that he wants to be in a world where everyone else is free to do as they like, nothing to hold him back whether the lure of crests or anything else. personal attachments. power. under dimitri's rule, certainly all things were possible, and he believed in it, for a while, but he also believed in something else: the possibility that he could look elsewhere for growth. that alone was tempting enough, made his decision solid in leaving, and just when he was feeling regretful, the war came.
how to explain that now, with so much hurt the way dimitri carries it with him like the hundreds of scars that mar his skin. his soul, or what's left of it. there's no diplomatic way of saying, i never wanted you to get to know me. there's no diplomatic way of breaking up with anyone. does he enjoy it? edelgard didn't really beckon. she was an option. if anything else, hubert never wanted him in their ranks because he and dimitri thought the same thing, though he probably wouldn't want to be compared to him.
it is immensely funny and sad to him that the one time he makes a dispassionate choice is the one that gets mistaken for a passionate one. ]
Nobody's ever figured me out, so don't blame yourself. It's no shortcoming of yours - it's deliberate.
[ sylvain watches his wound soak the rag with blood and sighs. ] As for my loyalty, plenty of talk has been made about it and I see no reason to add to the noise, whether I'm wearing Faerghus blue or Empire red.
I hope you'll forgive me for disobeying you and calling you the prince, still. That's who you are regardless. That's who you'll always be to me - [ and maybe that's the problem. sylvain has a smile on his face that doesn't quite meet his eyes, but then again, that's how he's always been since the war. ] Unattainable.
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instead, he runs a hand over his red hair as he watches him. listens to him. does he enjoy it? it's not really so much as enjoyment as wanting to be free. all his life he's always decided that he will do what he wishes. that he wants to be in a world where everyone else is free to do as they like, nothing to hold him back whether the lure of crests or anything else. personal attachments. power. under dimitri's rule, certainly all things were possible, and he believed in it, for a while, but he also believed in something else: the possibility that he could look elsewhere for growth. that alone was tempting enough, made his decision solid in leaving, and just when he was feeling regretful, the war came.
how to explain that now, with so much hurt the way dimitri carries it with him like the hundreds of scars that mar his skin. his soul, or what's left of it. there's no diplomatic way of saying, i never wanted you to get to know me. there's no diplomatic way of breaking up with anyone. does he enjoy it? edelgard didn't really beckon. she was an option. if anything else, hubert never wanted him in their ranks because he and dimitri thought the same thing, though he probably wouldn't want to be compared to him.
it is immensely funny and sad to him that the one time he makes a dispassionate choice is the one that gets mistaken for a passionate one. ]
Nobody's ever figured me out, so don't blame yourself. It's no shortcoming of yours - it's deliberate.
[ sylvain watches his wound soak the rag with blood and sighs. ] As for my loyalty, plenty of talk has been made about it and I see no reason to add to the noise, whether I'm wearing Faerghus blue or Empire red.
I hope you'll forgive me for disobeying you and calling you the prince, still. That's who you are regardless. That's who you'll always be to me - [ and maybe that's the problem. sylvain has a smile on his face that doesn't quite meet his eyes, but then again, that's how he's always been since the war. ] Unattainable.