[ Belatedly she realizes what the word someday implies; it implies some sort of future together that she's denied herself imagining for so long, along with even a future where Claude remains in it. Moments where she wishes she could snatch back the words that have left her mouth are becoming more and more frequent. In Fodlan those moments were rare; she was so sure-footed in her interactions, knowing exactly where to step, what to say, what expression to wear. So rarely did she have to think twice about those sorts of things except for the odd exception which, coincidentally, occurred in Claude's presence.
The hissed curse draws her gaze, a brief moment of worry flashing through her expression. When she realizes that it's no real harm done, just some grazed flesh because of sharp baby wyvern teeth, she lets out a short breath. With one hand still securely wrapped around the midsection of the wyvern, she intercepts his hand before he can begin teasing the creature again. If an action could have silent exasperation attached to it, that particular one would.
Focusing on healing even the most minor of scratches means that she won't read too deeply in that pregnant pause of his. Some part of her wants to say that even after everything that she does trust him despite what she said. Instead the words bounce off the back of her teeth tumbling back into the darkness of her throat. A gentle warmth begins emanating from her hand into his as she grumbles. ]
There's probably one in the library somewhere. I'm sure you or Cyril probably had one lying around.
[ And while she would never normally go to the library on her own accord, pettiness has been known to drive her in unexpected ways. Thoughts of pettiness are interrupted by his question and it's her turn to pause in surprise because shockingly, her hunch had been right. The scratches heal but her touch lingers. ]
I don't know yet.
[ It's the truth if the slight droop of her shoulders is any indication. She can't tell him that her heart isn't as sensible as she makes it out to be, not just because it goes against the person she claims to be but because saying so would also mean telling him other things she isn't prepared to admit. Shrugging off the momentary drop in mood, she's quick to force levity into her voice again along with pulling her hand away. ]
I mean, it won't be never. Most of my clothes are still there. And besides, it's probably been easier without me there. It's one less mess for Sylvain to clean up.
no subject
The hissed curse draws her gaze, a brief moment of worry flashing through her expression. When she realizes that it's no real harm done, just some grazed flesh because of sharp baby wyvern teeth, she lets out a short breath. With one hand still securely wrapped around the midsection of the wyvern, she intercepts his hand before he can begin teasing the creature again. If an action could have silent exasperation attached to it, that particular one would.
Focusing on healing even the most minor of scratches means that she won't read too deeply in that pregnant pause of his. Some part of her wants to say that even after everything that she does trust him despite what she said. Instead the words bounce off the back of her teeth tumbling back into the darkness of her throat. A gentle warmth begins emanating from her hand into his as she grumbles. ]
There's probably one in the library somewhere. I'm sure you or Cyril probably had one lying around.
[ And while she would never normally go to the library on her own accord, pettiness has been known to drive her in unexpected ways. Thoughts of pettiness are interrupted by his question and it's her turn to pause in surprise because shockingly, her hunch had been right. The scratches heal but her touch lingers. ]
I don't know yet.
[ It's the truth if the slight droop of her shoulders is any indication. She can't tell him that her heart isn't as sensible as she makes it out to be, not just because it goes against the person she claims to be but because saying so would also mean telling him other things she isn't prepared to admit. Shrugging off the momentary drop in mood, she's quick to force levity into her voice again along with pulling her hand away. ]
I mean, it won't be never. Most of my clothes are still there. And besides, it's probably been easier without me there. It's one less mess for Sylvain to clean up.