#daphnelight

    hilda is prepared to go off to snack, turning on her heel only to pause as she spots a certain blonde staring in her direction. she isn’t close enough with anyone of the blue lion house to know anyone’s personalities, but she sure hopes she won’t get a scolding from her fellow noblewoman about playing another boy like a fiddle. 

    “oh, hello ingrid,” comes the polite greeting, smile friendly. “i couldn’t help but notice your stare... could it be you’re hungry too?” 

         it was almost out of character for felix (  of all people  ) to be the one with his hand outstretched towards her.  he wasn’t the type to dance , despite learning how to many years back.  for a moment , emerald orbs would flicker from hand to his crimson eyes , watching.  this really was something new.  she wasn’t going to let this opportunity to slip by , it had been a while after all.  her hand reached towards his , being gently held by her friend before standing in a familiar position of a waltz.     ❛   well now, since it has been a while. do you still remember the steps?   ❜

         a challenge.  he responded well to those.

  dancing is something that comes easily to him, a skill that requires rhythm, balance, and proper footwork. he’s not happy the overlap between that and swordsmanship exists but it’s there all the same and it was something ingrid noted even when they were young. in those days she would’ve been the one to not so much as ask but demand he be her dancing partner: dimitri always gripped her hand too tightly and sylvain was... well sylvain. but his uncharacteristic offer this time around is anything but a display of sentimentality. he sees the question lingering in her gaze even as she takes hold of his hand and falls into step.

“better you than someone else. and if we’re dancing, people will stop pestering me.” he sighed, fingers twitching where they lay braced against her shoulder blade. “i understand having this ball for the sake of others but i can’t begin to imagine why attendance is mandatory.”    

step, side, close. step, side, close. step- 

“ good morning, ingrid! ” the tactician chirps cheerfully at the noble, smile bright and warm. “ did you sleep well last night? ”

there is the memory of the childhood and there is the reality of their lives in the here and now and that she is a constant presence in his life / from the time that she was BORN ( betrothed to his brother, the beloved of his brother, his brothers ———— ) means that her presence is not surprising. in fact, it is as unobtrusive as a woman like ingrid could feasibly be. yet it remains still yet IRRITATING when he wishes, as always, to be alone. ❝ must you keep pestering me? ❞

to think there was a time when he had ———— was there a time? was there?