#timecall

this line made me quadruple take so hard i’m just …. someone really destroyed bede’s entire soul in one go ….

hi maxamundo

          “hey, teach. something on your mind?” claude’s eyes are on a work of art that’s slung across the wall, though that hardly lasts in the company of byleth. there are far more interesting things than the techniques used to color and follow a gradient in this landscape. besides, he’s seen this painting of the monastery a hundred times before. 

          still… claude tries not to get caught up in being bored by convention. the longer he spends in cycles, the easier it’ll be for him to find something he never noticed before. and once he finds that possibility, he can follow it into something brand new, and it’s bound to become something great. 

          altogether, he’s thinking too hard. particularly because as he turns to attention, the soft curve of his cheek presses right into byleth’s set trap. the cushion of her finger pokes where his dimple would dip for a smile, and claude quirks a brow. 

BETRAYAL COMES IN THE FORM OF A TOUCH / fleeting and brief and stabbing in its nature and his skin crawls ———— dramatic, perhaps, but that hardly reduces the inherent compulsion for self defense in the name of such a full frontal attack !! ( … ) alright, genuinely dramatic, what with the fact that she’s merely poked him rather than genuinely attacked him but the two are practically one in the same considering she’s managed to launch an assault against the least defended part of him / and he’s reconsidering this overcoat, now.

he’s not willing to admit that he twitches at her touch, an instinctive drawing away and twisting and he doesn’t think of it as a RETREAT but rather to get an unimpeded view of the enemy who looks at him innocently ———— RUBBISH !! NONSENSE !! ———— with her eyes wide and hand still raised and it’s impressive, he must admit.

❝ ———— byleth, ❞ name as a statement and name as a question and name as a WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING and her hand lowers as her gaze drops to the asymmetrical cut to his coat. as if judging it. or thereabouts.

why their interactions are like this / so stilted and strange / he’ll never know.

❝ i’m testing you, ❞ he’s half certain that she’s lying.

❝ by accosting me? ❞

❝ it’s a vulnerability. ❞

at some point his hand settled along his flank and he’s not sure if it happened in the immediate aftermath of the poke or somewhere in motion / but he’s covering this vulnerability and he has to admit, begrudging though it may be, that she has a point. something of a point. a mild minor slight point that perhaps his choice of clothing errs on the side of ———— oddity.

but he likes this coat.he really, truly does.

❝ perhaps, but not on the battlefield, ❞ considering he doesn’t wear these clothes in battled and she knows that as well as he. his arms cross over his chest / something of a concerted effort in the name of not resting his hand on his waist anymore. ❝ but if you’ve considered this, i’ll have to be more wary around the others. ❞

there’s a pause before,  ❝ felix, are you ticklish? ❞

and suddenly : some of his worst fears are realized. ❝ what? ———— no !! ❞

damn it, why is he a bad liar?

     he's  sitting  sideways  in  her  chair ,  one  leg  dangling  off  the  arm  and  his  opposite  hand  threaded  through  his  hair .  he's  only  been  waiting  in  her  office  for  about  three  minutes ,  but  by  all  appearances  he's  made  himself  far  too  at  home .  as  she  (  finally  ---  if  so  short  a  time  could  be  considered  long  enough  to  use  that  word  )  enters ,  he  looks  up  with  a  wide  smile  on  his  face .    ❝  aw ,  professor ,  i  knew  you  couldn't  stay  away .  ❞    the  fact  that  he's  in  her  office  doesn't  seem  to  mean  anything  to  him .