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I think it was probably the needing to know everything which made me a particularly annoying student.

[ In more ways than one; while Lysithea might've argued with Teach openly in lectures, it was always apparent because she wanted to make sure she understood. On the other hand: his own interventions loudly or otherwise had been more of an undermining quality given he hadn't trusted Teach and had trusted him even less after finding the Sword of the Creator. All things which evolved in time both in that school year and in the many years afterwards, and maybe none of it matters anymore.

Not as much as shifting a little more to face Sylvain both to get more comfortable and to make it easier for that hand tracing over him to continue and have a slightly wider path to do it as he flashes the other a smirk. ]

Why, are you speaking from experience of being here? If so then maybe I don't have to do any convincing at all.

[ That hand slides down to rest at the small of his back, fingers splayed there as his thumb rubs back and forth. He’s comfortable right where he is, head once more pillowed against Claude’s shoulder, wrapped up around him, and held in turn. They’d spent a lot of nights like this, of late. Which was still a little unbelievable to Sylvain. Considering he’d never spent the night with most of his previous lovers. This had been quite the switch.

It’s a little scary, how much he likes it. How comforting it is to curl up next to someone. To trust someone like that.

Right now, though, he just hums, slightly distracted as his mind mulls that over. ]

I probably wouldn’t believe you anyway.

[ This is too comfortable. Claude's had that thought before and he's having it again now, what with Sylvain pressing himself into all those empty spaces like they were meant to fit him and in a way he thinks he shouldn't find so soothing. That's putting too much into something that - is whatever this is, and he whisks the thought away again even as the smile remains on his face unnoticed.

Whatever else is yet to come out of that train of thought is yet to be discovered. For now, Claude mishears distraction for tiredness and leans to press a kiss to Sylvain's temple, letting it linger as he closes his eyes to murmur against skin. ]

Go to sleep. You can figure out if you believe me in the morning.

[ His lips quirk into a smile at the brush of lips and the gentle command, but he just snuggles a little closer, content enough to do just that. ]

Okay, but only if you sleep, too.

I'll think about it.

[ That counts, right? It'll have to since there's still some time to go before he can convince his mind to wind down for the night, even when Sylvain's warmth pressed into his side more comforting than save but a handful of other things he can think of listing right then.

Some of them, maybe, tie to what had started this whole conversation in the first place when he'd walked into his room to find Sylvain already there. As if he belonged, like he was supposed to be, and that thought makes something tighten in his chest just as much as the uncertainty of why it is they're the only two at the loft so often lately does in a different way.

Tonight will bring him no answers, Claude knows, so instead he shifts again to rest his cheek against Sylvain's face and going right back to tracing those shapes and patterns along ever more familiar skin to convince the other man to drift off as it's done on other nights. ]

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