It was highly unusual to be left waiting for too long. Sometimes things ran over, students needed help and Lukas had always been such a kind soul to help them but today was…an exception. Their tea had gone cold as had the snacks and he found himself warming both up and handing them out where it seemed a child of the church or a student might have appreciated the treat. The table had been offered to a few students who’d yet to reciever their own brew and he was off to find his odd middle child.
The training grounds proved empty as did most other halls he recalled the young man traversing. His brows knit together and suddenly he found his feet traveling to the young man’s room.
A gentle knock was offered and a response was waited for but after a few moments, the door cracked open and he…found himself stunned.
“Lukas…?”
Matthias stepped into the room quietly and made sure to close the door behind him. He wasn’t unused to this sight. Between Sylvain, Miklan, and the soldiers that were often found that way in their barracks, he understood a bit…too well what might have happened but to see it occur to Lukas…
“I was wondering what emergency might have kept you and it seems to be the worst of them all.”
A seat was taken at the end of Lukas’s bed and Matthias found himself leaning over his own legs.
“These things do pass…but they will only do so smoothly if you’re clear with others. I…won’t ask you to tell me all of it or any of it at all…but to have you in here like this means it’s something you know needs to be handled.”
A hand reached over and gently rubbed the man’s back. Comfort had never been and would never be his strongest suit but he wouldn’t let that be due to not attempting to do so.
“People aren’t as simple as they might seem, all the more in moments like what I’m sure has caused you such a wobbly heart.” While he meant the words, he did offer a small shake to him.
“I’m sure they’re worried.”
In hindsight, he didn’t know much about those who Lukas was around though…he couldn’t imagine that they’d be the type to be happy with things as they were now.
Lukas doesn't particularly recall making his way back to his quarters, nor any other plans he'd had for that day.
It had been a beautiful day, truth be told. The sun was out, but the air was cool enough to offset it; leaving the day wonderfully balanced. But as soon as he reaches his room, the door is shut on the day and his vision is cast into muted shadow.
Not that he's really seeing what's in front of him at the moment. He rests with his back against the closed door for a prolonged moment, doesn't register the thunk of his head against the wood as he stares into the dead space of his room.
He stays there for an undeterminable amount of time before blinking, eyes feeling gritty.
He pulls in a weary breath, lets it whisper through his lips before pushing off the solid wood of the door to blindly stumble in the direction of his bed. His legs connect with the frame and he lets gravity carry him forward onto the mattress with little care to where he falls; he just misses bashing his skull into the wall.
Lukas lays there with his legs hanging off the side of the bed for a moment before curling up onto his side, knees partially pulled up and arms laced tight against his middle. It's something he's seen others do in an attempt to self-soothe before, though it doesn't really ease the dreadful feeling inside him, nor does it offer much comfort.
The knock to the door goes unheard, likewise the fact that someone is entering until he feels the bed dip with someone else's weight. He's only taking up half of it, curled up as he is, so there's plenty of room for another.
It takes a while for the words to sink in, but when they do, there's another weight added to him. "Matthias, I should have...sent you word. I...," Lukas trails off, words heavy on his tongue as he flicks his gaze to a different spot on the wall. "My apologies."
"I handled it-- I attempted to handle it," he amends, fingers digging in just above the bend of his elbows. "It's difficult to be clear with others when they refuse to see what's in front of them."
The touch against his back is unexpected, and Lukas finds himself frowning in vague bewilderment at the offering of comfort.
It might have been a little awkward, but it does accomplish the task of pulling Lukas out of the tight ball he'd wound himself up in. He felt horribly stiff, distantly wondered how long he'd laid there in that position, before doing his best to shuffle around to properly speak with Matthias without accidentally kicking the man in the process.
Hm. Still had his boots on. He'd have to shake out his blankets later.
"...I rarely assume people to be simple. Everything that goes into...being them is complicated, and trying to understand it all feels like I'm piecing together another language at times," he murmurs, running a palm over his face. Lukas sighs, lets that same hand fall to his chest, presses hard until he can feel the unbothered beat of his heart.
"Is that what this is? An issue of the heart?"
Then take it out. Remove it. What good did it do him, caged in the ice of his ribs? If he could hold it in his hands, bloody and heaving, he could at least prove that it existed outside of his own desire for it to. Maybe then, free of him, it could be what it was supposed to be.
He smiles, fingers curling into the material of his shirt.
"I'm not sure they should worry. They have better things to turn their attention toward, and all I've done is try to sully the happiness they've found."
