𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡 , a disgruntled expression growing on his face with every passing moment . the silk itself is cool and nice against his skin & he is thankful for it ever since he had left the cold climates of ishgard for the warmth that eorzea is coated with -- it’s the decorations that cause irritation , pressing scratchily against his skin when before he was layered thickly to shelter himself from the aforementioned cold .
now aymeric is rather revealed , no longer donning such conversative lengths that hid away all but his face . he peaked out of the door towards where haurchefant sat himself , the frustration too apparent to hide away any longer , and exhaled a loud breath .
❝ close your eyes , ❞ he demanded softly , gripping the wood grain of the door so tightly his knuckles were turning white . he watched like a hawk until his beloved did as he was told , then exhaled yet another breath as he attempted to psych himself up .
it’s not like him to rely on the opinions of others for how he looked or expressed himself , but the swift change of clothes left him completely outside of his comfort zone -- he perhaps wanted haurchefant to hate the clothing , so that he may change , but also was keen to know if it actually looked nice on him or not .
swallowing his anxiety like the giant lump it was , he stepped out of the privacy of his room and into the room he now shared with haurchefant , eyes permanently glued to the hard wood grain flooring beneath him .
❝ as you know , ❞ he started well before telling haurchefant he could look , his voice muffled by his head being lowered down . ❝ i have decided recently that changes were in order now that i have passed the torch , so to speak , to the next speaker . along with taking initiative to join the scions and adventure at both you and estinien’s side , i have taken to a new form of combat . . . ❞
for the first time in a long time , aymeric struggles with his words . he is a man filled with them , and yet they were lost .
❝ anyways , ❞ he says a bit too loudly , trying to force himself back on track . ❝ along with this i have had some armor fit for my role crafted , and i would have your opinion of it before i wear it out of this room . ❞
but he doesn’t let haurchefant look yet , swallowing another load of anxiety with an audible gulp . he dons a bolero , carefully handcrafted with the flexibility of a dancer in mind . gold , royal blue , and black tie themselves together in a way that is reminiscent of his former garb and yet wholly new . it exposes skin he hasn’t exposed in years to those who are not allowed that privy , especially the scars which peak out from carefully sewn hem .
he bites his lip , putting arms behind himself , and all together looks less like the proud leader of ishgard and instead like every insecurity he’s ever faced has bubbled up to the surface -- change requires a leap of faith , though aymeric is unsure he could take the jump without first knowing it is okay from those who matter to him most .
