ashes , ashes.

‘ i never knew the professor to be so careless. ’

@creatorblade

there was a slight crease between his brows as he wondered when he ever even his journal took it out of his private quarters. true, he was absentminded at times, but byleth had always been so careful with the few things he felt was important to him. had he managed to forget even this?

wait, what had he been doing yesterday? or had he forgotten it the day before? earlier in the week? he’d have to check the last entry, just to be certain.

slightly rattled, he took it back.

           ` ... thank you. i must’ve dropped it.’

there is a somberness to his countenance that caked onto his face like grit and blood, exhaustion that claws at his shoulders and drags him about, a misery that reaches even his quiet breast. forcing his heart to beat, forcing his still - mortal body to perform divine miracle after miracle -- it made his head spin and his chest ache; it felt like becoming everything and still, becoming nothing at all. it felt like breaking, it felt like healing, it felt like --

oh, to see his own face, peering at him with such bright eyes. byleth couldn’t even pity himself. he brushed past his words, his pleas, his questions, and stepped forward.

           ` the things i’ve done in this life ... and the one before. and the one before that. i’ve made terrible mistakes. but i know better now.’

he reaches forward, a single hand pressed against his doppelganger’s chest. after all, this wasn’t the first time he’s killed himself. but hopefully, this time ... this time --

           ` i won’t make the same mistakes again.’

his long nails dig past the fabric of his glove, past the fabric of his double’s tunic, digging straight into his skin, clawing at his flesh, as if to carve out where a heart should be.

byleth  definitely  seems  more  knowledgeable,  and  dimitri  won’t  argue  against  that.  he  is  grateful  for  byleth’s  offer.  although  the  king  doesn’t  mind  to  take  his  leave  when  he  deems  it  necessary,  it’s  byleth’s  attention  to  detail  that  keeps  him  rooted  on  the  spot,  a  smile  painting  on  his  lips.  “  that  certainly  sounds  like  a  good  idea,  thank  you.  “  his  generosity  and  kindness  doesn’t  go  lost  on  him.  dimitri  is  more  willing,  the  difference  in  his  tone  noticeable.  “  i’ll  make  anything  you  suggest.  i  am  sure  you  have  a  better  taste  than  me.  “  he  assures  with  a  newly  found  confidence  in  his  tone.  “  it’ll  certainly  taste  better  if  we  also  work  together,  right?  you  don’t  mind  that,  do  you?  “  he  asks,  slightly  apprehensive  ;  it’s  not  often  dimitri  asks  for  anyone’s  free  time  that  doesn’t  pertain  to  sparring.  he  is,  admittedly,  a  little  nervous.  his  demeanor  as  a  whole  doesn’t  quite  fit  his  appearance.  “  that  is,  if  you’re  not  busy.  i  wouldn’t  want  to  keep  you  from  more  important  duties.  “

            ` no duty right now is as important as this one moment of culinary peace,’ he replies sternly, and if not for the gravity in which he spoke these words, it may have sounded intensely heartfelt. true, he was intent on making time for dimitri, but he was also really intent on getting away from all the paperwork that this new lifestyle required of him.

nevertheless, having dimitri back with them was a more than welcome experience.

            ` besides, i missed cooking with you.’

he paused, his eyebrows scrunching ever so slightly as though he was trying to remember something, before it relaxed back into his usual countenance of inscrutability. his next words were conscious and deliberate, spoken through the memory of his father, who made the explicit effort to verbally express to byleth the moments that made him happy. happiness. fishing was a happiness. buying a nice gift at the market was a happiness. feeding the stray cats was a happiness. and this? 

            ` this is something that makes me happy.’