[ He watches her, trying to sift through what he was picking up from her. It was a little reminiscent of last night, but she’d been much more open in her feelings when she’d been drunk, than she was this morning.
Knowing she’d assumed the worst and not missing where her gaze had temporarily drifted, he keeps his fingers on her chin. ]
That’s not quite all. But considering you’re completely sober this morning. It means I can finally do this.
[ And then purposefully leans in close to kiss her slowly, his gaze never leaving hers as he does so. ]
[ Her plan had been to roll out of bed, get dressed and then leave which feels like it might have been her intention last night had sleep not claimed her first. When she says she'll make it up to him she means it - maybe she can drop off some groceries for him to make he and Claude something nice later. Or a new tea set, you could never have too many of those right?
But then the wrench named Sylvain is tossed directly in her plans again. When her chin isn't relinquished, there's a surprised look that crosses Hilda's face that only intensifies when Sylvain's lips encapsulate hers. Instinctively she leans into the familiar taste and feel of his lips before catching herself moments later. Pulling back to look at him, her eyes are still wide and confused. ]
What was that for? What do you mean now that I'm sober?
[ Sylvain is pretty sure his best talent is being the wrench in everyone’s well-laid plans.
He takes in her confused expression, lips quirking faintly as he brushes another whisper-light kiss at the corner of her lips. ]
Because I wanted to. And because I told you we wouldn’t do anything you might regret when you weren’t sober enough to remember it. That’s not a problem this morning.
[ It's hard for Hilda to believe that her drunk self hadn't tried to force herself upon Sylvian for a kiss especially if he had been kind enough to drag her all the way back to the loft. Then again, who she is, is quickly becoming a nebulous thing for even her to grasp and hold onto.
Joking aside, the word want still throws her for a loop. Why did he want to? Why would he want to when there's someone else? And for all of this talk about regret, she can't help but ask - ]
[ Her heart stutters again. Perhaps at the lip brush, perhaps at his words that she wants to be sincere and true. She pushes past the yearning hope to try and level set her own expectations and what he says he wants. ]
But I puked on you last night.
[ Even that sounds like a weak excuse to her own ears. She isn't even sure that she'd be so forgiving if the positions were swapped. Or rather, she isn't certain that she wouldn't be grossed out. There's the strongest urge to press her head into his chest - partly so she doesn't have to see him but also for the comfort it provides.
But because she's being held there by his gentle hand all she can do is sigh and close her eyes. ]
I don't want you saying something you don't mean. And you shouldn't be wasting your energy on me. [ Her hand snakes up between them, brushing lightly against the earring before gently cupping his face. ] You should focus on someone else.
Trust me. [ His dry tone lingers as he frees her chin long enough to tweak a lock of her hair. Then he tugs her close again, wrapping her up in his arms once more. He rests his chin atop her head as he holds her. ] I’ve had nights end on much worse notes. That didn’t even make the top ten. There was no bloodshed, no angry relatives, no escaping out of a window. A little bit of extra laundry isn’t a hardship.
And besides. It isn’t up to you to decide where I get to spend my energy, because I definitely don’t see it as a waste. [ Where does she even get these ideas? He’s positive he’s never implied anything of the sort. ] I have more than enough focus to go around.
[ He reaches up to catch her hand in his, threading their fingers together. ] And oh, yeah. Just in case you forgot that part, too, you promised to make me an earring. And I’m holding you to that.
[ He's regaled her with stories of close calls, scaling out windows in the dead of night or just as dawn was breaking as someone came bursting through doors demanding to know what he was doing in bed with someone. It's never failed to delight her and it doesn't fail to draw the corners of her lips upwards now despite the conflicting feelings whirling inside of her.
And again, despite the doubt that stirs in her heart at his words, she allows herself to melt into his embrace. Instinctively she moves to wrap her arms around him - but before she can he's tangling their fingers together.
It's difficult to hide her bewilderment and confusion. ]
When did I say I was going to make you an earring? You already have one.
[ There's no arguing that that sounds like something she would have done. But her eyes dart once again to earring before peeling away uncomfortably. It's hard to feel second place when she had never been in the running to begin with, she tells herself.
Instead she focuses her gaze on their hands and the feeling of the senseless circles against her knuckles and the arm around her waist. She squeezes his hand letting out a tired exhale. ]
If anyone could make a piece of jewelry that would look good there, it would be you. But if it’s too difficult for you, you can always make one for the other ear. Or maybe up the curve of this one instead.
[ There's a non-commmital sound from her. It's partly a dismissal at his confidence in her jewelry making skills and partly towards this supposed promise she had made him. Had she agreed because she so desperately wanted to feel included? To feel wanted? Is it some kindness he's giving her because he feels pity towards her and that her temper tantrum as she is coming to think of it, had worked in some way, shape or form?
It's too much to think about this early (is it even early?) in the morning and when she can feel the hangover that she's undoubtedly going to have the rest of the day creeping at the edges of her mind. Weariness and an impending hangover aren't enough to stop her from feeling and sounding reticent despite her best efforts to sound like a less than chipper version of herself. ]
I guess if I promised, I don't really have a choice, do I?
[ When she makes it though hadn't been discussed as far as she's aware - otherwise he would have mentioned that too. And maybe she would some day when her heart didn't feel so heavy and aching as it did right now. Maybe some day when she didn't feel the creep of the jealous creature stroke its sharpened claws along the length of her spine reminding her that it was still there, ever present. ]
It won't be today though. I feel like I woke up with cotton balls in my mouth.
[ He bends to press a kiss to her brow once more, tucking her hair back off her face with an affectionate brush of his fingers. ]
I think I can do something about that. Why don’t you go get washed up and into something comfy. I’ll go make you some tea. I promise you’ll feel all better afterwards.
[ Hilda's eyes flutter closed for a moment as his warm lips kiss her forehead. There's other excuses on her lips about why she shouldn't linger longer than necessary. She's no longer familiar with Claude's schedule but she has to imagine that just because it's some nebulous part of the morning, he's probably somewhere which is probably the biggest reason she'd prefer to leave as quickly as possible.
But instead of saying anything along those lines she brings their hands closer together to brush her lips gently and quickly against his knuckles in silent agreement. ]
I won't stay too long. I have to meet Ioana in Aquila to pick up some packages.
[ That one at least isn't a lie. As she extracts herself from the bed, she tugs the sheet along with her to wrap around her body as she darts towards the bathroom. It's probably ridiculous and she's probably going to get laughed at - but after everything she had been through in the last 24 hours, she can't help it. Just before she closes the door she lingers in the doorway not turning to look at him. ]
Sylvain, I really don't deserve to be treated so kindly. But I appreciate it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Knowing she’d assumed the worst and not missing where her gaze had temporarily drifted, he keeps his fingers on her chin. ]
That’s not quite all. But considering you’re completely sober this morning. It means I can finally do this.
[ And then purposefully leans in close to kiss her slowly, his gaze never leaving hers as he does so. ]
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But then the wrench named Sylvain is tossed directly in her plans again. When her chin isn't relinquished, there's a surprised look that crosses Hilda's face that only intensifies when Sylvain's lips encapsulate hers. Instinctively she leans into the familiar taste and feel of his lips before catching herself moments later. Pulling back to look at him, her eyes are still wide and confused. ]
What was that for? What do you mean now that I'm sober?
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He takes in her confused expression, lips quirking faintly as he brushes another whisper-light kiss at the corner of her lips. ]
Because I wanted to. And because I told you we wouldn’t do anything you might regret when you weren’t sober enough to remember it. That’s not a problem this morning.
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Even if I have awful morning breath?
[ It's hard for Hilda to believe that her drunk self hadn't tried to force herself upon Sylvian for a kiss especially if he had been kind enough to drag her all the way back to the loft. Then again, who she is, is quickly becoming a nebulous thing for even her to grasp and hold onto.
Joking aside, the word want still throws her for a loop. Why did he want to? Why would he want to when there's someone else? And for all of this talk about regret, she can't help but ask - ]
What if you regret wanting to?
[ Wanting her in whatever capacity that means? ]
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[ His voice is a dry drawl, because self-awareness has never been one of his weak points.
But he brushes his thumb over her lip as he holds her gaze. ]
You? You’re never going to fall anywhere close to the “regret” list.
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But I puked on you last night.
[ Even that sounds like a weak excuse to her own ears. She isn't even sure that she'd be so forgiving if the positions were swapped. Or rather, she isn't certain that she wouldn't be grossed out. There's the strongest urge to press her head into his chest - partly so she doesn't have to see him but also for the comfort it provides.
But because she's being held there by his gentle hand all she can do is sigh and close her eyes. ]
I don't want you saying something you don't mean. And you shouldn't be wasting your energy on me. [ Her hand snakes up between them, brushing lightly against the earring before gently cupping his face. ] You should focus on someone else.
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And besides. It isn’t up to you to decide where I get to spend my energy, because I definitely don’t see it as a waste. [ Where does she even get these ideas? He’s positive he’s never implied anything of the sort. ] I have more than enough focus to go around.
[ He reaches up to catch her hand in his, threading their fingers together. ] And oh, yeah. Just in case you forgot that part, too, you promised to make me an earring. And I’m holding you to that.
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And again, despite the doubt that stirs in her heart at his words, she allows herself to melt into his embrace. Instinctively she moves to wrap her arms around him - but before she can he's tangling their fingers together.
It's difficult to hide her bewilderment and confusion. ]
When did I say I was going to make you an earring? You already have one.
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[ He answers around a hum, one arm wrapped around her waist. His other hand holds hers, his thumb rubbing absent circles against her knuckles. ]
You promised you were going to make me one just from you.
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Instead she focuses her gaze on their hands and the feeling of the senseless circles against her knuckles and the arm around her waist. She squeezes his hand letting out a tired exhale. ]
It probably won't look good beside that one.
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If anyone could make a piece of jewelry that would look good there, it would be you. But if it’s too difficult for you, you can always make one for the other ear. Or maybe up the curve of this one instead.
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It's too much to think about this early (is it even early?) in the morning and when she can feel the hangover that she's undoubtedly going to have the rest of the day creeping at the edges of her mind. Weariness and an impending hangover aren't enough to stop her from feeling and sounding reticent despite her best efforts to sound like a less than chipper version of herself. ]
I guess if I promised, I don't really have a choice, do I?
[ When she makes it though hadn't been discussed as far as she's aware - otherwise he would have mentioned that too. And maybe she would some day when her heart didn't feel so heavy and aching as it did right now. Maybe some day when she didn't feel the creep of the jealous creature stroke its sharpened claws along the length of her spine reminding her that it was still there, ever present. ]
It won't be today though. I feel like I woke up with cotton balls in my mouth.
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I think I can do something about that. Why don’t you go get washed up and into something comfy. I’ll go make you some tea. I promise you’ll feel all better afterwards.
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But instead of saying anything along those lines she brings their hands closer together to brush her lips gently and quickly against his knuckles in silent agreement. ]
I won't stay too long. I have to meet Ioana in Aquila to pick up some packages.
[ That one at least isn't a lie. As she extracts herself from the bed, she tugs the sheet along with her to wrap around her body as she darts towards the bathroom. It's probably ridiculous and she's probably going to get laughed at - but after everything she had been through in the last 24 hours, she can't help it. Just before she closes the door she lingers in the doorway not turning to look at him. ]
Sylvain, I really don't deserve to be treated so kindly. But I appreciate it.
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[ He watches her go with a faint smile lingering at the corner of his lips, his expression full of fondness. ]
But you’re welcome anyway. Now go on. I’ll have your tea ready for you when you’re finished.