[ there's that swell in his chest again, something that's started to become more and more frequent lately and sylvain is still undecided on whether or not it's a good thing. it's vaguely concerning, at least, because while he's sure it's likely not a premature heart attack (though with their recent diet, that could very well be a contributor), the alternative is something he's sure he isn't completely ready to face yet. it means acknowledging everything that he's been doing a shit job of hiding ever since they all reunited again, and like, he can at least admit that he hasn't been trying at all since arriving in this place. his one saving grace is that felix doesn't seem to have caught on yet, bless him, but sylvain knows without a doubt that he will. probably very soon, if he keeps saying these things and keeps looking at him like that.
it's honestly a little terrifying. this is the part where he would leave, break it off before things get any deeper, cut his losses while he still can. and in spite of all of that, he knows he can't even if he wanted to, because this is felix and felix has always, always been the exception to every single rule and caveat—both the anomaly and the missing piece that's always been there but he'd been too afraid to grasp.
felix says i don't need those to remember this to the tune of i won't forget your eyes or anything else and with his back still to him, sylvain closes his eyes. breathes in deep and silently counts to five, swallows past the lump of whatever emotion that he doesn't know if he can completely identify at the moment.
but the most damning thing is that he already knows what it is. ]
Guess I did.
[ sometimes sylvain wonders if felix is aware of the sheer depth in the things he says, how he can just say these things with the same unshakable sincerity he had when he was eight and tossed out a death pact like it was nothing. and sylvain had taken it, met him with that same amount of sincerity couched in lightness, a casualness that's come back to bite him in the ass more often these days than not. but he doesn't have that anymore; he'd lost it to the war, lost it to the people they've lost; lost it to the luxury of falling asleep to felix's soft breaths against his chest, the warmth and comforting weight of him in his arms. and that's another nail in the coffin, isn't it? ]
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it's honestly a little terrifying. this is the part where he would leave, break it off before things get any deeper, cut his losses while he still can. and in spite of all of that, he knows he can't even if he wanted to, because this is felix and felix has always, always been the exception to every single rule and caveat—both the anomaly and the missing piece that's always been there but he'd been too afraid to grasp.
felix says i don't need those to remember this to the tune of i won't forget your eyes or anything else and with his back still to him, sylvain closes his eyes. breathes in deep and silently counts to five, swallows past the lump of whatever emotion that he doesn't know if he can completely identify at the moment.
but the most damning thing is that he already knows what it is. ]
Guess I did.
[ sometimes sylvain wonders if felix is aware of the sheer depth in the things he says, how he can just say these things with the same unshakable sincerity he had when he was eight and tossed out a death pact like it was nothing. and sylvain had taken it, met him with that same amount of sincerity couched in lightness, a casualness that's come back to bite him in the ass more often these days than not. but he doesn't have that anymore; he'd lost it to the war, lost it to the people they've lost; lost it to the luxury of falling asleep to felix's soft breaths against his chest, the warmth and comforting weight of him in his arms. and that's another nail in the coffin, isn't it? ]
So, don't let me forget either, okay?