#opratic

———— at this rate he may well become desensitized to her presence which carries with it a DANGEROUS NOTE / considering his constant state of hyper vigilance and paranoia / but she is no threat to him beyond being a distraction and a hindrance to his day to day life ( rather judgmental, no? when surely, surely, any and all could be a threat for all that HE SEEMS HER NOT TO BE / a simple cruelty. ) but she’s back. and back. and back again, intent on either watching him or impeding his training by simply PLACING HER PRESENCE IN PROXIMITY and it makes his skin crawl. this attention. this woman. this infuriating woman.

ignoring her only goes so far considering how stubborn she is / against how stubborn he is / yet it’s often his impatience with her persistence that gives way, and isn’t that all the more frustrating?

but yes. he’s ignoring her / or attempting to / but there’s a listless energy to him with the lack of sparring partners or anything TRULY STIMULATING beyond the blade and the method and the steadiness of his breathing and the clarity of his mind. though that clarity is beginning to get muddied by her and her watching eyes and her INFURIATING TENACITY which, under most other circumstances, would earn her an iota of respect from him for sheer willpower alone. alas, she’s chosen to bother HIM of all people.

and thus : his irritation. how repetitive.

she’s saying something and something and something and, ❝ ———— felix, you really should look at someone when they’re talking to you, i know you can hear me, ❞ and perhaps it’s her tone ( almost musical and lilting in a way that would often be pleasing to the ear if it didn’t grate on his nerves quite so terribly ) that he despises so heavily. beyond her constant presence and strange fixation with him, of course. ugh.

when he turns there is CLEAR FRUSTRATION on his face / as is to be expected / the steadiness of his training giving way to something far more base and uncontrolled / and his thoughts shift. a decision is made / as he sheathes the blade that he was using and stalks past her to the wall just beyond where his training bag lays and he pulls from it his bow and quiver and false clay doves.

❝ stop harping and make yourself useful, ❞ there’s a tightness to his voice as he throws the bag in her general direction as he passes her, again, not even bothering to check if she caught the bag before it crashed to the ground. his targets for practice BREAKING would be a surefire way to incense him further, of course, but he finds himself so keyed up that he simply wants to GET THIS OVER WITH so perhaps, perhaps, she’ll leave him alone.

he doesn’t spare her even a brief glance as he crosses to the outdoor area of the training yard / fully expecting her to come along regardless of her wishes or wants or whatever it is she’s doing with him. and he : nocks an arrow and pulls back the bowstring and then, finally / finally sends her a sidelong glance.

❝ ———— well? ❞

HER FEATHER PEN STRAYS FROM ITS PATH,     the ink marking a river from one unfinished word to the one beneath it.    despite how long she’s worked on it,    her ruined assignment is the FARTHEST thing from edelgard’s mind.   she takes a moment to decipher dorothea’s words,    but something within her abdomen bucks against her pleading,    steadying hand.    how direct her friend was,    how genuine she was,    HOW BEAUTIFUL—–    her eyebrows rise as a warm flush coats her cheeks in a familiar cermine.     this sort of feeling forces her to look up in coy shock;    whatever made its home at the nape of her heart unravels now.

until she appears !! THE GLIMMERING STAR IN THE NIGHT or whatever it is that people take to calling her and he considers her. her and what he had just bore witness to and her voice : resonating cleanly over the audience. ❝ you did well, ❞ is what he settles on saying, trying to cut her off before she can begin.

` I’d hardly call myself one , if i’m being honest. ’  Nobility —— what has that ever meant to him anyways? Kamui spoke with salubrious ease , despite it all. What has that ever meant to him? The feeling of the question alone prods in his head , and he could feel the knives dip into his skin like butter , the knives in his skin , the knives in his skin. The tools that——

     ❝ oh , i - ❞

     SHE’S RENDERED NEAR SPEECHLESS at the sudden compliment , cheeks slightly reddened as well . by now , she was used to small flirtations &&. the like – usually given to her by people who wanted her more for her crest than herself – but this instance was different . there was no ulterior motive , no prize for dorothea to win .