shoulders roll, head falling to the side with a satisfying pop, eyes alight with a concealed interest as fingertips trail along the page, smooth and worn and yellowing with age beneath his touch— slowly it’s flipped, honeyed gaze flitting, skirting over the text before they find their place once more amongst his companion, gaze focused so intently upon text of their own, book spread open atop the table before them, mind otherwise preoccupied ( or so it would otherwise seem, and not by him, much to his ever growing chagrin ).
fingers slide away, from page to wood, idly tracing the lines, smooth grain, along the surface whilst free hand raises, palm cupping one of his cheeks as he shifts where he sits, leg moving to brush against that of the other, touch feather-light, a gesture so subtle that so easily could it be passed off as unintentional, accidental.
‘ that doesn’t look half as interesting as you’re making it out to be, ya know. ‘ gaze flits briefly to the script before their eyes before leveling itself once more upon them, upon their countenance, a brow quirked in building amusement that stirs within, along with a fire that sparks, kindling to life; the corners of his lips curl playful, genuine. ‘ it’s almost as if you’ve forgotten all about me— ‘ palm lifts, a vague gesture, placating. ‘ i know, i know, you’re busy, i’m distracting. ‘
not that he particularly cares. in fact—
he shifts again, moves closer, thigh flush against thigh, as he leans in, forward, perhaps a hair too close ( words, sentences, silently read, brushed aside— he’s otherwise preoccupied; he’s also familiar enough with the material as it is already; has no need for it— other things however ). ‘ care to know what i was reading? ‘ a grin, cheeky, head canting ever so slightly in their direction.
‘ love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling. ‘ forearm against forearm, warmth seeps through fabric into flesh. ‘ there’s more, of course, but can’t memorize the entire page, now can i? ‘ a lie; he probably could, but he’s got other activities in mind.
sylvain , strictly ship partners only because i’ve lost control ; open !
♔ — HER ATTENTION is easily broken. Treatise after treatise had glazed her eyes over, even as she tried so desperately to focus. The contents could save their lives, if she found the secret these documents can hold. Yet, she stares past the words, comprehending naught a thing she’s read. No, she pays heed only to the man next to her.
The first brush of skin could be accidental, Edelgard tells herself, trying again to focus. Movement through Fodlan’s Throat has been always considered impossible, the treachery of the region making it a near impregnable wall - Sylvain’s voice breaks through her reading, and she cannot help but purse her lips. Oh, how dare he distract her so! Her boredom had been enough, but this, Sylvain so close...
He’s unfair, Edelgard’s decided. Sylvain is the most unfair man she’s ever met, and she hates how much she loves it.
Yes, yes, she loves this. Loves how Sylvain has decided that interrupting her research is exactly how he should spend his time. She tries her words once more, knowing that the words only become fuzz and static once they reach her eyes. Following not the words, but instead, Sylvain’s movements, her eyes downcast. Lilac eyes see where his thigh meets hers, and a rush comes up her back.
What were you reading–– she starts, her mouth hanging open, but stopped. Edelgard does not close her mouth, still agape, ruby red lips parted. Heat rushes up her cheeks, her eyes go wide as saucers. Suddenly, she wishes to burrow, to find some place to hide this shameful expression, bright red under the scattering of freckles.
Emperor Edelgard squeaks, like a maiden. ❝ I-I’m certain you could, Sylvain... Why would you need to kneel? ❞ her question is genuine, this curiosity overcoming her shame, even as she thinks to bury her face in her hands.
