[ Absolute torture, he says, as he drops into a seat by Claude. Claude laughs, clearly not giving much weight to Felix's certain misery.
Yeah, either Felix is a masochist or he's not as honest with himself as he purports to be. It isn't a new thought. These last months had evidenced that discrepancy in word and action. Felix maintained his brusque irritability with Claude, yet continued to accompany him on hikes into the mountains surrounding Garreg Mach, continued to answer his messages, continued to himself initiate. It might seem equally incongruous, then, that Claude continues to think of Felix as honest. Perhaps because he reads him well enough, because actions speak louder than words, because if the worst Felix can be is blunt and rude and awkward with what and whom he doesn't totally hate, it's really almost charming.
Claude's confident by now that there is nothing intentionally deceptive in Felix. It isn't enough for trust, nothing could be, but there are times where it might feel close. Maybe if he knew better what it felt like to trust, he'd know to be worried in those moments, to pull back.
In any case -- looking up before, though his eyes had long adjusted to the dark, he hadn't been able to fully appreciate that Felix's hair was down. Once he's on eye level, drawing Claude's gaze with the movement of his fingers through, Claude does. Appreciate it. And maybe an hour of sleep makes even Claude slow to realize that he's staring, but sun break gives him a good excuse to tug his eyes skyward. ]
I'm honored that you assume I know exactly how long that will be.
[ ...not that Felix doesn't assume correctly. ]
Accordingly to Cichol's Almanac, the sun should rise in about about ten, fifteen minutes.
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Yeah, either Felix is a masochist or he's not as honest with himself as he purports to be. It isn't a new thought. These last months had evidenced that discrepancy in word and action. Felix maintained his brusque irritability with Claude, yet continued to accompany him on hikes into the mountains surrounding Garreg Mach, continued to answer his messages, continued to himself initiate. It might seem equally incongruous, then, that Claude continues to think of Felix as honest. Perhaps because he reads him well enough, because actions speak louder than words, because if the worst Felix can be is blunt and rude and awkward with what and whom he doesn't totally hate, it's really almost charming.
Claude's confident by now that there is nothing intentionally deceptive in Felix. It isn't enough for trust, nothing could be, but there are times where it might feel close. Maybe if he knew better what it felt like to trust, he'd know to be worried in those moments, to pull back.
In any case -- looking up before, though his eyes had long adjusted to the dark, he hadn't been able to fully appreciate that Felix's hair was down. Once he's on eye level, drawing Claude's gaze with the movement of his fingers through, Claude does. Appreciate it. And maybe an hour of sleep makes even Claude slow to realize that he's staring, but sun break gives him a good excuse to tug his eyes skyward. ]
I'm honored that you assume I know exactly how long that will be.
[ ...not that Felix doesn't assume correctly. ]
Accordingly to Cichol's Almanac, the sun should rise in about about ten, fifteen minutes.