we used to be friends
cont. from -> 💔
"I really think there were other hobbies that people could have invested themselves in first." Like knitting. Or reading. Or not having children that they left for others to raise during a war. What little light had taken root for a moment dims again.
None of which will change now, not even with all those who'd been lost back to life and present again. Is it his place to fill in the gaps of what memories were missing? If he were to do so, what would that change? And what decided which of them found their way to Fodlans shores, and which didn't. Why was Azelle here, and why wasn't…
"Hmm?" The mistletoe has long since been discarded, but Azelle talks like it still has any authority over them. He…really doesn't think that kissing is going to stave off any of the misfortune that's clouded both their lives, but if it makes the other happy…Finn sighs before leaning down. "Are you always so needy?"
“Well, I wouldn't be a Grannvalian nobleman if I were completely agreeable, right?” Azelle jokes.
Finn doesn't need to know the whole encompassing truth that is Azelle's horrible bad luck, or the dark cloud that hangs over House Velthomer almost entirely because of him, now. The shade wouldn't linger if Azelle hadn't stayed, and his running away hadn't cleared his home's castle from its darkness, either. Or so he believes.
Still, Finn humors him, and Azelle is happy for it. He flushes, even, because between the pleasant conversation and the lack of a stronger, secondary protest, this encounter is nice, in a way, and Azelle's romanticism is flying ahead of him at a rapid pace.
Scenes from countless novels flash in his mind's eye, but he doesn't prolong the issue. He places a chaste kiss on Finn's cheek and pulls away, trying to pretend like he doesn't know his face is darkening.
“Thanks. Despite the circumstances, it is nice to see you. Maybe we can hang out some time?”












