“For a second there I thought it was something I could punch.” Like jugular, for example. “And I’m just calling it like I see it.” Ren had no idea where she was going with this anymore, to be honest. She merely shared her father’s distaste for flowery language, although her bias revealed itself come the time when her mother or Caleb would speak. Those two loved their words, would pick one for the day and use it incessantly that it sometimes drove Ren up the wall.
With Gilbert, she supposed it came with the lifestyle. When you lived your life surrounded by books and pretentious nobles, you’d pick up on a few things. Gilbert wasn’t pretentious, per se, Ren knew that. He carried himself with a certain grace, a quality worthy of esteem and respect (being the son of a commandant, what choice did you have?) but he’d been far from those of noble birth that Yuri disliked so much, who wasted way too much time and effort on trivial beyond trivial things.
Like appropriate dressings, for example. Ren gave a loud snort. “You prancing around on the fields wearing formal clothes is kind of tempting. Wanna drop by your place a sec and grab ‘em real quick?”
She held his gaze within hers for a while, after the question of trust had been posed. The answer he gave filled her with a certain warmth, and for some reason if felt as if the happiness visibly radiated from her very being. She lacked the maturity to admit out loud, but what an honor it was to be trusted by such a virtuous soul, who rarely let people come close. If only he would allow her to come closer. It still felt as if there was a wall between them somehow, after the countless times she’d had to ignore the papers he pushed aside to a more… concealed corner during her sudden visits, the way his words trailed off and never caught up… how he seemed so distant while standing next to her sometimes… where did he go? She hoped it was a place she could follow.
As he rose to his feet, Ren turned to face him, rolled her eyes at his next dramatic statement. “There you go again. Forever the drama queen. It was just a little jump. Plus the, uh… road cushioned our fall.”
Well–Gilbert cushioned her fall. He was probably better at that task than the road that tried to cushion his.
Ren mirrored the smile on his face. It was such a nice smile, one she wished he had on all the time. She’d grasp at straws to gain enough power to protect it–to protect him and that gentle smile of his. And his heart, once shattered but kind, even still.
“Yeah,” she poked his forehead before spinning on her heels and ambled towards the tree she’d climbed earlier. There was a bag settled between roots that she grabbed with one hand, the axe next to it with the other, then straightened herself. “Let’s go,” said Ren with a nod, and Repede Jr. quietly trotted to her side.
Gilbert rolled his eyes, a snarky smirk on his lips as he insisted, “No, no, I believe that this will be more than adequate for our purposes. Were that we were attending a ball in the Fae Wild, perhaps I would bring finer vestiges. For now, this is passable.” He crossed his arms, canting his head as he looked her up and down. “After all, you’re hardly appropriate for a gala, either. You should have considered that when inviting me on this outing.” You cannot hold others to a standard that you yourself will not be held to, after all.
He let out a small trill of a snicker, catching it in his hand as he quelled the laughter into a silent shaking of his shoulders. “Oh come now, you can’t imagine that the cobbles prevented a concussion. Be mindful, I am very frail.” Or… To their knowledge he was. To anyones knowledge he was. And to that end, he would continue to put that trust in Ren that seemed to brighten her eyes and fill her chest with pride. Let her believe in herself the way he trusted her, the way he trusted their future. He only need move when the time was right. For now… he would put himself in her hands.
He rubbed the back of his head idly, sighing. “Honestly, you brute. You beat me up daily. How did I manage to earn this sort of treatment?” He placed a hand on Huxley’s head as the pup scampered to catch up, scratching the back of his ear distractedly. “If this is some kind of trick to get me into nature so you can abuse me without prying eyes, at least tell me up front. I’d like to prepare a story for the bruises so Father does not get the wiser."
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