[ It feels like the time stretches as she waits for him to answer her but she barely seems to register it, so lost in her own debate about whether or not to say more. Had he not spoken up when he did, she very well might have blurted everything out all at once which is hardly her style. Blathering on about something isn't cute on her; it's cute on people like Marianne when she's flustered and trying to talk herself out of a preconceived scenario, but on Hilda it usually only resulted in her looking far lame. And who wanted to be lame?
All of this worry and anticipation about what he would say in response to her suggestion and what he would do if she came across uncool for blurting out all of the words that threaten to push themselves up from her throat is almost enough to make her forget that all of this started because it sounded like he wanted her to move back into the loft. He hadn't said those words explicitly of course, but he had implied as much and she knew him well enough to know that. The thought of returning sends a wash of mixed feelings through her. The thought of having her full wardrobe at her disposal again makes her heart soar but it's quick to plummet back to the ground when she realizes being home will mean having to see Sylvain and Claude together.
Resolving that she'd try harder to be a better friend doesn't mean the jealous, envious creature that had clawed its way from her belly is so easily dispelled. Much like its mistress it is a stubborn creature and it wasn't about to disappear, and certainly not overnight.
Thankfully worrying about what Claude implied or didn't imply is waved away momentarily as she watches his expression curiously change. The smile that blossoms at the corner of his lips is one she knows well. One that she had willingly run towards and chased after so desperately once upon a time when she realized what it alluded to. The smile was a real one. One that meant Claude was genuinely touched by something, and that he meant it. She didn't think she'd ever see it again. Her heart stumbles over itself like its suddenly grown two left feet and she breaks eye contact again, too inwardly flustered to say anything. Her gaze settles on the wyvern who's now happily entertained by the little game Claude is playing with it.
The sound of the smile in his voice as he jokes with her comes dangerously close to feeling like how things used to be. A voice gently gathers her hope back before tethering it back into the ground. There's a half-hearted muttered reply in return that comes out without her really thinking about what she's saying. ]
You'll be the one seeing it most of the time so that will be your own fault if you decide to name it something stupid. And if I ever learn Almyran someday you're going to be so sorry you ever did that.
no subject
All of this worry and anticipation about what he would say in response to her suggestion and what he would do if she came across uncool for blurting out all of the words that threaten to push themselves up from her throat is almost enough to make her forget that all of this started because it sounded like he wanted her to move back into the loft. He hadn't said those words explicitly of course, but he had implied as much and she knew him well enough to know that. The thought of returning sends a wash of mixed feelings through her. The thought of having her full wardrobe at her disposal again makes her heart soar but it's quick to plummet back to the ground when she realizes being home will mean having to see Sylvain and Claude together.
Resolving that she'd try harder to be a better friend doesn't mean the jealous, envious creature that had clawed its way from her belly is so easily dispelled. Much like its mistress it is a stubborn creature and it wasn't about to disappear, and certainly not overnight.
Thankfully worrying about what Claude implied or didn't imply is waved away momentarily as she watches his expression curiously change. The smile that blossoms at the corner of his lips is one she knows well. One that she had willingly run towards and chased after so desperately once upon a time when she realized what it alluded to. The smile was a real one. One that meant Claude was genuinely touched by something, and that he meant it. She didn't think she'd ever see it again. Her heart stumbles over itself like its suddenly grown two left feet and she breaks eye contact again, too inwardly flustered to say anything. Her gaze settles on the wyvern who's now happily entertained by the little game Claude is playing with it.
The sound of the smile in his voice as he jokes with her comes dangerously close to feeling like how things used to be. A voice gently gathers her hope back before tethering it back into the ground. There's a half-hearted muttered reply in return that comes out without her really thinking about what she's saying. ]
You'll be the one seeing it most of the time so that will be your own fault if you decide to name it something stupid. And if I ever learn Almyran someday you're going to be so sorry you ever did that.