[Try as he might, Felix couldn't fall back asleep. The birds outside hadn't let up and his mind, too preoccupied with all sorts of thoughts mostly involving what his scheming neighbor could be up to, wouldn't allow for a few moments' peace anyway, so it's with a grumble that Felix dresses up in something light -- what he'd wear to morning exercises anyway -- and shucks his shoes on. He doesn't even bother styling his hair either, deciding it's best to save his energy for making the trip to the roof.
He knows of only one way up there, as it's one of many popular spots for Garreg Mach students looking for some solitude or, more accurately, some privacy. Felix never used it much -- just once, when he tried meditation and found that his thoughts were too jumbled and his emotions too angry for him to sit and think about nothing. Whatever. All he knows is that it better be the spot Claude referred to, because it's too early and he doesn't have the energy to go back down and figure a way to contact him for the exact location.
It's breezy up there on the roof, at a comfortable median between cool and warm. The sky is a dwindling purple, with the faintest of orange streaks on the horizon. Sunrise is almost upon them.]
If you're already up here, Claude, you better not be hiding...
[He mutters that behind his hand just seconds before he yawns, too loud for it to be considered polite in noble circles. Like he cares.]
In fact, Claude had napped. Just not after 4:30. He'd drifted away over a dusty tome on crestology a little after 3 AM and been woken by Felix's message an hour later. The unevenness of his sleep schedule made it an easy waking, and after thirty odd minutes of riveting conversation, his mind was up. Fully alert, waters active, with whirlpools stirring toward maelstrom.
For that reason, he'd headed up in advance of the proposed time. Oh so eager to meet Felix, he simply couldn't wait, his racing--! Nah. He has a few different haunts that he frequents for morning meditation. Little though some may believe it, he does like to begin his day with it, and early. It helps to calm and sort his thoughts, has done, had helped him make the shift in younger years from the emotional brat he'd been -- embittered, frustrated, argumentative, desperate, hurt, hurt, hurt -- to the unflappable schemer of today.
So dressed in part of his uniform -- the yellow shirt, spacious pants -- he climbed up and picked his way over to his favored perch. He sits there, eyes closed, legs crossed, palms shaped over his knees. Breeze tickling longer strands of his hair against his cheek, loosed from the typical braid.
Felix's voice breaks through, somehow quieter than the yawn that follows. Claude smiles, not yet opening his eyes. ]
Oh, I am hiding. Right out in the open. Do you want to play find the deer, Felix?
[Listen. He was tired, okay. He had to try, even if it ended in utter failure.
Felix hears Claude first, and proceeds to follow the invisible path toward the familiar voice. This early in the morning, his senses are not as keen as they tend to be, so he doesn't find Claude right away. No matter. It'll be easy to sniff him out.
He rolls his eyes and makes sure the smirk can be heard in his voice--]
And miss out on the peace and quiet I'd have without you around? Perish the thought.
[ How close that rooster came to despair...! also let's politely not overthink how Claude managed to hear that muttered behind Felix's hand
Having been out here for roughly forty minutes, Claude had gotten accustomed to the hush of the roof, the trilling of the birds among the background of rustling leaves, the water lapping of the fishing pond lapping against dock and shore below. Once roused from his head, his ears immediately trace the new sound: voice, yawn, footsteps. The wry humor crooked in Felix's response.
By now, Claude can picture his smirk with near-disconcerting clarity. His smile broadens. ]
Yet, here you are, getting closer. Have you considered that you might be a masochist?
[ Now opening his eyes, he leans a supportive hand against the roof behind him, then twisting back to look for Felix. ]
[Just as Felix expected, Claude nibbles on the line he set out for him, allowing the swordsman to pinpoint and follow his voice on the roof amid all the wind and sound up there. He eases around one of the roof's many flashings and, lo and behold, there's gold. Not literal, but the brightness of Claude's clothing is unmistakable and so bright in this darkness, it might as well be.
Felix approaches and yawns again, this time a forced one but can anyone really tell the difference? Claude might, but he tries not to think about it too much.]
To be honest, for me to be out here and at this hour, I'm beginning to think that I am one.
[ Claude might. He hasn't actually heard Felix yawn all that often, hadn't seen the first yawn force itself out, could give him the benefit of the doubt. If Claude ever gave anyone that benefit.
As Felix nears, Claude grins up at him. The bright lemon of his top, bright flash of his teeth, and his eyes -- not quite. Maybe closer to than they've yet been, whether with Felix or anyone else here. ]
Sure, sure. What a crazy and terrible thing to be on a roof just after 5 AM with that delightful rogue Claude von Riegan.
[ A callback, of a sorts, in that self-description. ]
Well, I can't promise you'll enjoy it, but if you don't, it won't be that terrible.
[ Now patting the roof next to him, if not right next to him, indicating Felix should sit. ]
[Torture that's worth putting up with, apparently, because Felix doesn't hesitate and promptly and with minimal effort, he sits himself down on the designated spot. And just to make sure, once he's down, he scoots over just the tiniest bit.]
We'll see about that...
[It's nice up here, so Claude gets points for that, even if it's more breezy than Felix is willing to put up with at this hour. After a few moments of having his long bangs whip this way and that into his eyes, he starts to finger-comb his hair back away from his face. Just as smoothly as he does this every morning -- the only difference being his location and his company. It's fine.]
[ 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.
[The hair is swept up without any fanfare into one of his typical buns, albeit slightly messier than usual -- Felix doesn't seem to mind, once he's gone through morning training and breakfast and a bath, then he can worry about making it more presentable. The sun isn't even up yet so he feels he's earned the right to go lax on his own personal dress code.]
Weren't you the one that suggested this in the first place?
[Whether Claude truly feels honored or not, Felix can't say. He also can't say he cares too much, although that might be a bit of stretch on the truth. While Felix lives his life within the realm of his own choices and feelings (provided they're within the scope of a nobleman's life), there are rare moments when slivers of thoughts are spared for others. Annette's singing, Lysithea's cakes, and even Claude's...well, he can't quite put a finger on what it is exactly about Claude that he's willing to forgive and allow in his space. Yet there he is, willing to spend time with him -- and only him -- on this roof at the crack of dawn for ten to fifteen minutes.]
Hm.
[His head tilts, curious.]
Almanac, eh. Do you always consult one everyday or was this a special occasion?
i think i had "the sun will should in about ten" smh
It's the sun, Felix. It'd come up eventually, wouldn't it? I might have had a general idea.
[ Might have, except that he did check the almanac.
For a guy who claims to care about naught, or little more than, battle and training for it, Felix does seem to give more than cursory attention to his appearance. Maybe not much more, but more. His hair serves as once piece of evidence, his tidy uniform another. Sure, Claude figures that Felix would attribute both to practicality, that sloppy hair and disheveled clothes would get in his way.
Still, he normally cuts a clean figure, and right now, with strands of hair escaping, in lighter clothing, it's notable. Whether or not he feels it, dressing down has the effect of making Felix look almost relaxed. Less like a wolf with a spur in its paw, ready to gnash teeth should any near.
Claude pushes both hands behind him now, leaning back as he kicks out his legs from the cross. Now looking up at Felix. ]
Not everyday, no. Sometimes, yes, for both special and ordinary occasions.
[ Insidious, the creeping growth of smile to grin. ]
[If asked, Felix would just shrug and claim he's not some dandy or fop, that appearances don't matter, et cetera et cetera. Except that latter portion would be an obvious lie -- while he doesn't groom for the attention of others, he does have pride -- perhaps too much of it -- which extends to his appearance. He'd also claim it's more for conveniences' sake: can't function properly as an agile swordsman if his hair and clothing are loose and in the way.
And if he feels relaxed, then it's just a side-effect, nothing more.
Maybe.]
I'm not the one that regularly comes up here. You tell me.
[ Spoken as though earnest in the question, but the tone does little good when, despite an attempt to mimic a thoughtful expression, his grin gives him away.
There is something else to betray, however, and his delayed realization of it makes the question convenient. It helps him stall without being obvious.
Whether or not Felix really knows it, Claude does come up here regularly. Alone. He'd not once even considered inviting anyone. This shouldn't be too noteworthy -- given the hour at which he climbed up for the sun (or the hour at which he pursued the stars), it wasn't as though could reasonably ask anyone if so inclined in the moment. A matter of serendipity that Felix had been awake now.
That's all. As simple as that. Or that should be all, it should be that simple.
His thoughts have begun to deviate as of late, swamp waters spilling into a creek. Awareness trickling, thin rivulets that gather greater. Cognizance of just Felix, of wanting to invite him up here, of satisfaction when he agreed.
Of something too like an old, stabbing dread, at the unsurprising notion that Felix would hate him.
Yeah, it's special. But, it doesn't have to be a problem. If he's aware of it, he can handle it. Hold it firm and put it away.
So he's casual, matter-of-fact when he answers, though he looks away, searching out the spread of orange in the sky. ]
[Felix rolls his eyes, lets out a musing snort. There is no off-switch for guys like Claude, is there?
(Dumb question: of course there isn't, and Felix rather prefers it that way.)]
No, you didn't. But it's plainly obvious you do.
[His hand makes a minor, sweeping gesture over him.]
Aside from how easily you invited me and situated yourself up here before I arrived -- and quite comfortably might I add -- you're now saying it's special. And if you didn't come up here often, you wouldn't invite just anybody up here, would you?
[ Oh, Felix. How reliable. Drawn by the gesture, his eyes follow the arc of that hand, humor tugging at the left edge of his grin as Felix makes his deduction. A matter-of-fact, certain pronouncement, leaving little room for doubt or protest. Focused on Claude's question, which had been almost as plainly tongue in cheek, picking precisely at each detail that supports his conclusion.
And in doing so, paying little attention to a single tree within that vast forest. Of course it's special.
Claude pulls his arms forward so to clap, quiet in deference to the hour and more amused than mocking. He doesn't however, sit up straighter to do so, instead managing to keep leaning back in much the same position by the strength of his core alone.
Clapping, ]
Very good! You got me right between the eyes. I guess I have become a regular to this patch of roof and sky.
I'd tell you to not patronize me but that would mean I was looking for approval in the first place...
[And he's not offended in the least. Smirking openly, even.
It's not bright out yet but there's enough to make out their surroundings. The unobstructed views of the water, the greenhouse, part of the dorms and the courtyard...
It's peaceful in it's own serviceable way. Maybe not what Felix would consider for himself, but he can appreciate it all the same.
He glances back to Claude, through the corner of his eye.]
Yeah, and I get the distressing feeling you don't care much for my approval.
[ A snicker in that, breaking up approval. They understand that much of one another. Felix might not be as humorless and irascible as most think, even as Felix thinks, but there's still a marked sense of satisfaction to see him smirk so visibly and to know he helped to put it there.
As Felix takes in the view, Claude gives to gravity and flops onto his back, now crossing his arms beneath his head as pillow and support against the roof. Drawing one knee up, he slings his over leg over, knee on knee, swinging his foot as he considers Felix's question.
Not that he really needs the time to consider, knowing well how long it's been. ]
Well now, let me think... it must be... four, no five months? That sounds about right.
[ It's five months, which takes them right back to the beginning of the school year, that first month. He's been coming up here from the start. ]
[Claude flops back, easily, while Felix remains seated up-right with his arms loosely folded over his chest. Their current posture no doubt the best glimpse into their respective outward personalities.]
Five months, huh.
[So, since roughly at the start of the academic year. Not that it matters one way or another, to Felix. He's been haunting the training grounds at all hours of the day for roughly the same amount of time, so who is he to judge?
He shrugs, arms still folded, so it looks stiffer than he intends. His gaze flicks forward, to the orange starting to cut into the purple and pink haze of the early morning sky over the water.]
...it's a good spot. Can't say that I blame you for it.
o damn... shoulda coulda woulda... instead it was he, felix!
[ One might argue that frequenting the training grounds is a more expected and acceptable practice for a student to cultivate, despite the extremes to which Felix takes it. They are open to students for that reason, after all, while the roof is technically (that is, explicitly) prohibited.
Claude's disregard for that rule, and Felix's pushing the availability of the training grounds to the very limit, might provide another glimpse into their respective outward personalities.
From this position, he can't see the water, only violet above and the few narrowing treetops that reach this height. Felix in his periphery, gradually more distinct as the sky begins to pale. Only just begins, and Claude's eyes track the streaking, the pink beneath it. At first, he assumes that shrug will be Felix's final word on the subject. It isn't so much that the gesture suggests finality, or dismisses the duration, but that he doesn't expect Felix would have anything further to say.
Or, whatever he does expect, or would expect if asked to so predict, it isn't that. Claude blinks, glancing to him, the cut of his profile. With his attention fixed forward, Claude takes a liberty he shouldn't, that he knows better than to take, that he doesn't fully realize he takes, that he wouldn't, but for the birdsong trilling on the breeze, but for the breeze stirring the loose hairs at the nape of Felix's neck, but for the yellowing strip of horizon. But for what had begun this, the a cocksure message that adjusted, mellowed, but for Felix meeting him here and conceding this.
But for all of that and maybe more, Claude would have snickered, expressed his shock and honor at such high praise. Coming from you, that's as rare as a lion taking up the faith and joining a choir.
Instead, he smiles like, edges smudged soft, with his eyes near crinkling, he speaks quieter, plainer. ]
Yeah? I think so, too. You can come up here any time, you know.
[ Only, then he hears it. Hears himself. Claude quickly glances back to the sky, laughs with his next breath. ]
...I mean, you could anyway. It's not my place or anything.
So, how close of call was it? How narrowly have I avoided your blame?
[In the few breaths of time between him peeling his eyes off the horizon and turning to offer Claude what's supposed to be an unimpressed eyeroll and maybe a remark about rooftop ownership, Felix's jaw snaps shut. In those same few breaths, apparently, his mind registered not what Claude said but how he said it; his imagination and suspicions filled in the remaining blanks. His own response shorted, he's left staring at him, sidelong and unsure.
Thankfully, this relapse only lasts for all of a few seconds before Claude...fixes everything, and Felix just nods once.]
Mm. Don't think I can find much to do up here, anyway.
[Feeling unusually exposed, he fixes his gaze back out to the expanse stretching out from them.]
No one saw me, if that's what you're asking. The only light I saw...was beneath the door to the boar's room.
[Which isn't a surprise or cause for alarm. Dimitri rarely slept a full night. The thought just makes him frown.]
[ A few seconds too long for Claude's taste. He can feel Felix's eyes, the space that a curt response might have filled keeping empty. Though not usually the type to choose ignorance, to choose to look away, he is the type to retreat when necessary. So he doesn't acknowledge the pause, the shift in attention that his own laxity prompted. Claude keeps his eyes on the sky until it passes, until he can answer what finally fills that space with easy humor, nothing soft, nothing telling. ]
That's only because you aren't thinking creatively. For example, you could practice your footwork! ...though, that might be a bit too reckless...
[ No matter how good Felix is, everyone makes mistakes, and a slip up here could result in a nice range of catastrophes. Broken neck, impaling himself on his sword, losing the sword over the edge just as a hapless student passed innocently by below.
And speaking of catastrophes. He probably shouldn't remark about Dimitri. Claude had noticed the light himself, equally unsurprised. While his late nights were generally spent reading, every now and again he prowled the monastery, trying his luck getting into this or that "prohibited" place. Whenever he stepped out of his room at an unsociable hour, or returned to it, almost without fail: a light beneath Dimitri's door.
Claude chances a look. A mere flick of his eyes, snatching a glimpse of that frown before his attention seems to return to the sky. He probably shouldn't, but then, treading lightly would itself be telling, coming from him. ]
Hm. What do you think, should I have invited His Princeliness, too?
[ It's a joke and hopefully an obvious one.
What's less obvious but far more disconcerting is the truth that underlies it: that Claude is truly comfortable here, beside Felix. He wouldn't be able to say the same for Dimitri. ]
You've been spending far too much time up here if you think that my footwork needs that sort of training. And...
[And here Felix's expression sours only just the slightest bit. Dimitri was and perhaps always will be a sore subject for him. An open secret around the monastery, his apparent dislike of his onetime friend. For reasons, of course.
He can't malign Claude for mentioning him. Felix was the one that brought him up, after all.
So he makes a show of rolling his eyes and squaring his shoulders.]
You bring that boar up here and I'll personally see to it that not only will Gloucester know about this spot, but he'll have your blessing and expressed desire to join you up here.
[ An open secret, indeed. A secret a touch too personal and raw to have drawn Claude's curiosity. Something that might have had potential on the battlefield, a scab to reopen with a well-aimed arrow. Maybe it still would. Maybe that such a thought comes tinged with something that feels a little too like compunction is part and parcel of the problem that has become increasingly thrown into stark relief.
Well, he'll figure it out later. He needn't give it too much thought just now, on this roof, with the subject.
For now, Claude laughs, tugging one arm from beneath his head so he can wave his hand, half-placating and half- as though entreating for mercy. ]
Scary! And a truly formidable thought. It's far more likely he ensures I'm not able to get up here again.
[ Which would be a shame. Of course, Claude's confident he could get around anything that resulted, but he'd prefer not to have to go through the trouble. ]
But, Felix, that sounds almost like jealousy. Is that if I ever bring Dimitri up or just while you're here?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bless...
OOC;
OOC;
👀
He knows of only one way up there, as it's one of many popular spots for Garreg Mach students looking for some solitude or, more accurately, some privacy. Felix never used it much -- just once, when he tried meditation and found that his thoughts were too jumbled and his emotions too angry for him to sit and think about nothing. Whatever. All he knows is that it better be the spot Claude referred to, because it's too early and he doesn't have the energy to go back down and figure a way to contact him for the exact location.
It's breezy up there on the roof, at a comfortable median between cool and warm. The sky is a dwindling purple, with the faintest of orange streaks on the horizon. Sunrise is almost upon them.]
If you're already up here, Claude, you better not be hiding...
[He mutters that behind his hand just seconds before he yawns, too loud for it to be considered polite in noble circles. Like he cares.]
👀
Wow, Felix, you tried to go back to sleep?In fact, Claude had napped. Just not after 4:30. He'd drifted away over a dusty tome on crestology a little after 3 AM and been woken by Felix's message an hour later. The unevenness of his sleep schedule made it an easy waking, and after thirty odd minutes of riveting conversation, his mind was up. Fully alert, waters active, with whirlpools stirring toward maelstrom.
For that reason, he'd headed up in advance of the proposed time. Oh so eager to meet Felix, he simply couldn't wait, his racing--! Nah. He has a few different haunts that he frequents for morning meditation. Little though some may believe it, he does like to begin his day with it, and early. It helps to calm and sort his thoughts, has done, had helped him make the shift in younger years from the emotional brat he'd been -- embittered, frustrated, argumentative, desperate, hurt, hurt, hurt -- to the unflappable schemer of today.
So dressed in part of his uniform -- the yellow shirt, spacious pants -- he climbed up and picked his way over to his favored perch. He sits there, eyes closed, legs crossed, palms shaped over his knees. Breeze tickling longer strands of his hair against his cheek, loosed from the typical braid.
Felix's voice breaks through, somehow quieter than the yawn that follows. Claude smiles, not yet opening his eyes. ]
Oh, I am hiding. Right out in the open. Do you want to play find the deer, Felix?
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Listen. He was tired, okay. He had to try, even if it ended in utter failure.Felix hears Claude first, and proceeds to follow the invisible path toward the familiar voice. This early in the morning, his senses are not as keen as they tend to be, so he doesn't find Claude right away. No matter. It'll be easy to sniff him out.
He rolls his eyes and makes sure the smirk can be heard in his voice--]
And miss out on the peace and quiet I'd have without you around? Perish the thought.
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How close that rooster came to despair...! also let's politely not overthink how Claude managed to hear that muttered behind Felix's handHaving been out here for roughly forty minutes, Claude had gotten accustomed to the hush of the roof, the trilling of the birds among the background of rustling leaves, the water lapping of the fishing pond lapping against dock and shore below. Once roused from his head, his ears immediately trace the new sound: voice, yawn, footsteps. The wry humor crooked in Felix's response.
By now, Claude can picture his smirk with near-disconcerting clarity. His smile broadens. ]
Yet, here you are, getting closer. Have you considered that you might be a masochist?
[ Now opening his eyes, he leans a supportive hand against the roof behind him, then twisting back to look for Felix. ]
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Felix approaches and yawns again, this time a forced one but can anyone really tell the difference? Claude might, but he tries not to think about it too much.]
To be honest, for me to be out here and at this hour, I'm beginning to think that I am one.
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As Felix nears, Claude grins up at him. The bright lemon of his top, bright flash of his teeth, and his eyes -- not quite. Maybe closer to than they've yet been, whether with Felix or anyone else here. ]
Sure, sure. What a crazy and terrible thing to be on a roof just after 5 AM with that delightful rogue Claude von Riegan.
[ A callback, of a sorts, in that self-description. ]
Well, I can't promise you'll enjoy it, but if you don't, it won't be that terrible.
[ Now patting the roof next to him, if not right next to him, indicating Felix should sit. ]
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[Torture that's worth putting up with, apparently, because Felix doesn't hesitate and promptly and with minimal effort, he sits himself down on the designated spot. And just to make sure, once he's down, he scoots over just the tiniest bit.]
We'll see about that...
[It's nice up here, so Claude gets points for that, even if it's more breezy than Felix is willing to put up with at this hour. After a few moments of having his long bangs whip this way and that into his eyes, he starts to finger-comb his hair back away from his face. Just as smoothly as he does this every morning -- the only difference being his location and his company. It's fine.]
How soon before the sun breaks, anyway?
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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.
i didn't catch it D:
Weren't you the one that suggested this in the first place?
[Whether Claude truly feels honored or not, Felix can't say. He also can't say he cares too much, although that might be a bit of stretch on the truth. While Felix lives his life within the realm of his own choices and feelings (provided they're within the scope of a nobleman's life), there are rare moments when slivers of thoughts are spared for others. Annette's singing, Lysithea's cakes, and even Claude's...well, he can't quite put a finger on what it is exactly about Claude that he's willing to forgive and allow in his space. Yet there he is, willing to spend time with him -- and only him -- on this roof at the crack of dawn for ten to fifteen minutes.]
Hm.
[His head tilts, curious.]
Almanac, eh. Do you always consult one everyday or was this a special occasion?
i think i had "the sun will should in about ten" smh
[ Might have, except that he did check the almanac.
For a guy who claims to care about naught, or little more than, battle and training for it, Felix does seem to give more than cursory attention to his appearance. Maybe not much more, but more. His hair serves as once piece of evidence, his tidy uniform another. Sure, Claude figures that Felix would attribute both to practicality, that sloppy hair and disheveled clothes would get in his way.
Still, he normally cuts a clean figure, and right now, with strands of hair escaping, in lighter clothing, it's notable. Whether or not he feels it, dressing down has the effect of making Felix look almost relaxed. Less like a wolf with a spur in its paw, ready to gnash teeth should any near.
Claude pushes both hands behind him now, leaning back as he kicks out his legs from the cross. Now looking up at Felix. ]
Not everyday, no. Sometimes, yes, for both special and ordinary occasions.
[ Insidious, the creeping growth of smile to grin. ]
Is this a special occasion?
shoulda coulda woulda
And if he feels relaxed, then it's just a side-effect, nothing more.
Maybe.]
I'm not the one that regularly comes up here. You tell me.
d'rdlt ton adluow adluoc adluohs
[ Spoken as though earnest in the question, but the tone does little good when, despite an attempt to mimic a thoughtful expression, his grin gives him away.
There is something else to betray, however, and his delayed realization of it makes the question convenient. It helps him stall without being obvious.
Whether or not Felix really knows it, Claude does come up here regularly. Alone. He'd not once even considered inviting anyone. This shouldn't be too noteworthy -- given the hour at which he climbed up for the sun (or the hour at which he pursued the stars), it wasn't as though could reasonably ask anyone if so inclined in the moment. A matter of serendipity that Felix had been awake now.
That's all. As simple as that. Or that should be all, it should be that simple.
His thoughts have begun to deviate as of late, swamp waters spilling into a creek. Awareness trickling, thin rivulets that gather greater. Cognizance of just Felix, of wanting to invite him up here, of satisfaction when he agreed.
Of something too like an old, stabbing dread, at the unsurprising notion that Felix would hate him.
Yeah, it's special. But, it doesn't have to be a problem. If he's aware of it, he can handle it. Hold it firm and put it away.
So he's casual, matter-of-fact when he answers, though he looks away, searching out the spread of orange in the sky. ]
Of course it's special.
[ now, teasing: ]
I don't invite just anybody up here, you know?
are you summoning a demon
(Dumb question: of course there isn't, and Felix rather prefers it that way.)]
No, you didn't. But it's plainly obvious you do.
[His hand makes a minor, sweeping gesture over him.]
Aside from how easily you invited me and situated yourself up here before I arrived -- and quite comfortably might I add -- you're now saying it's special. And if you didn't come up here often, you wouldn't invite just anybody up here, would you?
maybe
And in doing so, paying little attention to a single tree within that vast forest. Of course it's special.
Claude pulls his arms forward so to clap, quiet in deference to the hour and more amused than mocking. He doesn't however, sit up straighter to do so, instead managing to keep leaning back in much the same position by the strength of his core alone.
Clapping, ]
Very good! You got me right between the eyes. I guess I have become a regular to this patch of roof and sky.
plot twist, it was me all along
[And he's not offended in the least. Smirking openly, even.
It's not bright out yet but there's enough to make out their surroundings. The unobstructed views of the water, the greenhouse, part of the dorms and the courtyard...
It's peaceful in it's own serviceable way. Maybe not what Felix would consider for himself, but he can appreciate it all the same.
He glances back to Claude, through the corner of his eye.]
How long have you been coming up here?
https://i.imgur.com/qZdFwaJ.jpg
[ A snicker in that, breaking up approval. They understand that much of one another. Felix might not be as humorless and irascible as most think, even as Felix thinks, but there's still a marked sense of satisfaction to see him smirk so visibly and to know he helped to put it there.
As Felix takes in the view, Claude gives to gravity and flops onto his back, now crossing his arms beneath his head as pillow and support against the roof. Drawing one knee up, he slings his over leg over, knee on knee, swinging his foot as he considers Felix's question.
Not that he really needs the time to consider, knowing well how long it's been. ]
Well now, let me think... it must be... four, no five months? That sounds about right.
[ It's five months, which takes them right back to the beginning of the school year, that first month. He's been coming up here from the start. ]
ngl, expected dio. another plot twist!
Five months, huh.
[So, since roughly at the start of the academic year. Not that it matters one way or another, to Felix. He's been haunting the training grounds at all hours of the day for roughly the same amount of time, so who is he to judge?
He shrugs, arms still folded, so it looks stiffer than he intends. His gaze flicks forward, to the orange starting to cut into the purple and pink haze of the early morning sky over the water.]
...it's a good spot. Can't say that I blame you for it.
o damn... shoulda coulda woulda... instead it was he, felix!
[ One might argue that frequenting the training grounds is a more expected and acceptable practice for a student to cultivate, despite the extremes to which Felix takes it. They are open to students for that reason, after all, while the roof is technically (that is, explicitly) prohibited.
Claude's disregard for that rule, and Felix's pushing the availability of the training grounds to the very limit, might provide another glimpse into their respective outward personalities.
From this position, he can't see the water, only violet above and the few narrowing treetops that reach this height. Felix in his periphery, gradually more distinct as the sky begins to pale. Only just begins, and Claude's eyes track the streaking, the pink beneath it. At first, he assumes that shrug will be Felix's final word on the subject. It isn't so much that the gesture suggests finality, or dismisses the duration, but that he doesn't expect Felix would have anything further to say.
Or, whatever he does expect, or would expect if asked to so predict, it isn't that. Claude blinks, glancing to him, the cut of his profile. With his attention fixed forward, Claude takes a liberty he shouldn't, that he knows better than to take, that he doesn't fully realize he takes, that he wouldn't, but for the birdsong trilling on the breeze, but for the breeze stirring the loose hairs at the nape of Felix's neck, but for the yellowing strip of horizon. But for what had begun this, the a cocksure message that adjusted, mellowed, but for Felix meeting him here and conceding this.
But for all of that and maybe more, Claude would have snickered, expressed his shock and honor at such high praise. Coming from you, that's as rare as a lion taking up the faith and joining a choir.
Instead, he smiles like, edges smudged soft, with his eyes near crinkling, he speaks quieter, plainer. ]
Yeah? I think so, too. You can come up here any time, you know.
[ Only, then he hears it. Hears himself. Claude quickly glances back to the sky, laughs with his next breath. ]
...I mean, you could anyway. It's not my place or anything.
So, how close of call was it? How narrowly have I avoided your blame?
wryyyyyyyy
Thankfully, this relapse only lasts for all of a few seconds before Claude...fixes everything, and Felix just nods once.]
Mm. Don't think I can find much to do up here, anyway.
[Feeling unusually exposed, he fixes his gaze back out to the expanse stretching out from them.]
No one saw me, if that's what you're asking. The only light I saw...was beneath the door to the boar's room.
[Which isn't a surprise or cause for alarm. Dimitri rarely slept a full night. The thought just makes him frown.]
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That's only because you aren't thinking creatively. For example, you could practice your footwork! ...though, that might be a bit too reckless...
[ No matter how good Felix is, everyone makes mistakes, and a slip up here could result in a nice range of catastrophes. Broken neck, impaling himself on his sword, losing the sword over the edge just as a hapless student passed innocently by below.
And speaking of catastrophes. He probably shouldn't remark about Dimitri. Claude had noticed the light himself, equally unsurprised. While his late nights were generally spent reading, every now and again he prowled the monastery, trying his luck getting into this or that "prohibited" place. Whenever he stepped out of his room at an unsociable hour, or returned to it, almost without fail: a light beneath Dimitri's door.
Claude chances a look. A mere flick of his eyes, snatching a glimpse of that frown before his attention seems to return to the sky. He probably shouldn't, but then, treading lightly would itself be telling, coming from him. ]
Hm. What do you think, should I have invited His Princeliness, too?
[ It's a joke and hopefully an obvious one.
What's less obvious but far more disconcerting is the truth that underlies it: that Claude is truly comfortable here, beside Felix. He wouldn't be able to say the same for Dimitri. ]
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[And here Felix's expression sours only just the slightest bit. Dimitri was and perhaps always will be a sore subject for him. An open secret around the monastery, his apparent dislike of his onetime friend. For reasons, of course.
He can't malign Claude for mentioning him. Felix was the one that brought him up, after all.
So he makes a show of rolling his eyes and squaring his shoulders.]
You bring that boar up here and I'll personally see to it that not only will Gloucester know about this spot, but he'll have your blessing and expressed desire to join you up here.
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Well, he'll figure it out later. He needn't give it too much thought just now, on this roof, with the subject.
For now, Claude laughs, tugging one arm from beneath his head so he can wave his hand, half-placating and half- as though entreating for mercy. ]
Scary! And a truly formidable thought. It's far more likely he ensures I'm not able to get up here again.
[ Which would be a shame. Of course, Claude's confident he could get around anything that resulted, but he'd prefer not to have to go through the trouble. ]
But, Felix, that sounds almost like jealousy. Is that if I ever bring Dimitri up or just while you're here?
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