flaidd·:
he only bears more regret knowing byleth feels worried. the guilt is immense, a constant drumming on his chest, a thorn to his side. it’s one pain after another, different, but still unbearable. he can’t help but hiss, not annoyed at byleth, per say, but at the situations that unfold, something that remains uncontrollable. “don’t be,” dimitri answers simply. “there is no need for concern.” the bags under his eyes would beg to differ ; his lips still chapped. “i didn’t think i needed to attend … i want to be here.” where the rain falls and he’s able to easily drown out everything else. he’s used to the cold. unlike byleth, he assumes. he tosses a sidelong glance, lips pursed tightly. and then, with a sigh : “unlike me, however, you shouldn’t be out here. you’ll catch a cold.” underneath the threatening rumble is something soft and concerned. his gentleness nestles ; he’s still himself, if only barely.
NOTHING FEELS COLDER THAN WATCHING HIM CRUMBLE. like the pinch of winter , the breath of despair -- she is a teacher. he is her student. ( she is meant to guide. yet he is still lost. ) the past five years have not been kind to him ; neither has he been kind to himself. she knew why , that brimming , hellish flame of hatred is all that fuels him now. if only she had stayed. be with him to calm the flame before it became wildfire.
byleth keeps herself in silence as she watches him huddle himself in the rain. she ignores his words -- stepping forward in the tears of the goddess. she feels the cold touch hit her skin , but it doesn’t make her falter. she stands there now. closer to his side.
“ dimitri . . . ” a rare calling of his name. “ what ails you . . . ? ”
