[ Only once there's distance between them do her sensibilities return to her in earnest. And the emotion leading the charge? A sliver of annoyance at how she's been reduced to nothing more than a blushing school girl who had never had anyone flirt with her a day in her life. Something so simple shouldn't have her heart hammering in her chest, or make her cheeks so warm that they're practically radiating heat - which means her cheeks are probably as red as roses to boot. It isn't so often that anyone is able to elicit such a flustered response from her. The last time she'd felt like that with him had been...well it must have been during the early days of the Academy when he had told her that she could grasp any part of him including his heart and his neck.
Reminiscing about days gone by will only serve to make the decision she's already coming to terms with more bittersweet. Namely that she'd tell him how she feels some day, eventually, but that when she did she didn't expect him to return them in kind. She would keep it simple and succinct; there wasn't a need for some complicated explanation or heart-wrenching declaration of feelings like how she felt like the light of the moon and sun combined didn't shine half as bright as him. Not when her answer had been given to her in the form of an earring in Sylvain's ear, in the unmistakable fondness witnessed between the two men, and Claude telling her his feelings for her had been in the past tense. Timing really was a bitch, wasn't it? But there's grace in stepping aside and clearing the way for people she cared deeply for. She had failed spectacularly the first time, but she'd do better for her best friend. Maybe she'd cry a little less. This time she wouldn't be so selfish or greedy. This time she'd practice letting go.
Something about this newly blossoming commitment tugs at the base of her skull, like she had already made that commitment before. But for that to have happened, she would have had to have confessed her feelings to another and that doesn't sound like her. The wyvern squabbling in her arms is enough to brush the thought away. And her sudden urge to cry? That too is quashed when Claude reaches out to remedy the cut on her cheek with a laugh. Immediately she pouts in protest but remains still as he works, removing any trace of the scratch and scar that might follow. This time we doesn't go unnoticed but it does bring with it a pang. She groans, focusing on the name in an attempt to ignore it. ]
That was a joke. We can't name it that and have this turn into another Waffenzahn-Waffle situation. They might have sharp claws but they doesn't deserve that. Scythe is nearly as bad as Jerky.
[ Her eyes flit down towards the wyvern who's gazing up at her with something that she can only assume is wyvern for a cheeky grin. The retaliating boop on the nose she gives it is more affectionate than annoyed. It's lucky that they know enough healing magic to sustain her vanity. Hilda hesitates then, eyes staying on the wyvern because there is actually something they could call it. It's just in light of this new revelation she's had, she isn't sure it's appropriate. ]
Actually, I was thinking we could call them something to do with the sky or a celestial body. You know, because of our dumb nicknames.
[ There's a hint of a nervous laugh in her voice, one that is purposefully there to play something off like it doesn't matter. Hilda's eyes flit to Claude's for just a moment, gauging his reaction before stumbling over a soft clarification. ]
Not that we have to do that or anything. I know that might be weird considering...everything.
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Reminiscing about days gone by will only serve to make the decision she's already coming to terms with more bittersweet. Namely that she'd tell him how she feels some day, eventually, but that when she did she didn't expect him to return them in kind. She would keep it simple and succinct; there wasn't a need for some complicated explanation or heart-wrenching declaration of feelings like how she felt like the light of the moon and sun combined didn't shine half as bright as him. Not when her answer had been given to her in the form of an earring in Sylvain's ear, in the unmistakable fondness witnessed between the two men, and Claude telling her his feelings for her had been in the past tense. Timing really was a bitch, wasn't it? But there's grace in stepping aside and clearing the way for people she cared deeply for. She had failed spectacularly the first time, but she'd do better for her best friend. Maybe she'd cry a little less. This time she wouldn't be so selfish or greedy. This time she'd practice letting go.
Something about this newly blossoming commitment tugs at the base of her skull, like she had already made that commitment before. But for that to have happened, she would have had to have confessed her feelings to another and that doesn't sound like her. The wyvern squabbling in her arms is enough to brush the thought away. And her sudden urge to cry? That too is quashed when Claude reaches out to remedy the cut on her cheek with a laugh. Immediately she pouts in protest but remains still as he works, removing any trace of the scratch and scar that might follow. This time we doesn't go unnoticed but it does bring with it a pang. She groans, focusing on the name in an attempt to ignore it. ]
That was a joke. We can't name it that and have this turn into another Waffenzahn-Waffle situation. They might have sharp claws but they doesn't deserve that. Scythe is nearly as bad as Jerky.
[ Her eyes flit down towards the wyvern who's gazing up at her with something that she can only assume is wyvern for a cheeky grin. The retaliating boop on the nose she gives it is more affectionate than annoyed. It's lucky that they know enough healing magic to sustain her vanity. Hilda hesitates then, eyes staying on the wyvern because there is actually something they could call it. It's just in light of this new revelation she's had, she isn't sure it's appropriate. ]
Actually, I was thinking we could call them something to do with the sky or a celestial body. You know, because of our dumb nicknames.
[ There's a hint of a nervous laugh in her voice, one that is purposefully there to play something off like it doesn't matter. Hilda's eyes flit to Claude's for just a moment, gauging his reaction before stumbling over a soft clarification. ]
Not that we have to do that or anything. I know that might be weird considering...everything.