[ Ambiguity is a dangerous trait, and Byleth is aware he should tread more carefully about what they're doing -what he's feeling at the moment. It's hard to call it lust alone because there are layers of admiration and affection woven in between, and without the veil of the moonblessings around him, he has no real excuse for why he's doing this. Maybe it's simply the outcome of two unquestionably lonely and scared people caught in a tight space with one another.
He hadn't quite admitted to himself up until now that he's even afraid of death when he's faced it so many times before -the literal death knight on a horse and the figurative one giving him one too many close calls for comfort. However, to die in battle has its honor. He'd have at least known he died protecting those he loved. To die unceremoniously from a game he doesn't understand is... not how he expected to go.
Both hands crawl a little higher to distract himself from those thoughts, anchoring himself back in the world of the living through the warmth of Sylvain's skin against his fingers. His fingers then start to knead inwards towards his spine as he feels himself grow solid enough to register the whisper of breath against his hair and Sylvain's unclouded scent. ]
I'm not rejecting you.
[ He doesn't think he ever could, as close as they've grown in this world and in theirs. He's always been drawn to the Sylvain hidden beneath several layers of flirtatious pretense. The anguish, the pain, the cynicism... if he answered Sylvain's question honestly, he'd simply say: ]
I want to know more of you. In any way you'd let me.
[ A pause as he raises eyes to meet Sylvain's, purposefully leaning in close. ]
no subject
He hadn't quite admitted to himself up until now that he's even afraid of death when he's faced it so many times before -the literal death knight on a horse and the figurative one giving him one too many close calls for comfort. However, to die in battle has its honor. He'd have at least known he died protecting those he loved. To die unceremoniously from a game he doesn't understand is... not how he expected to go.
Both hands crawl a little higher to distract himself from those thoughts, anchoring himself back in the world of the living through the warmth of Sylvain's skin against his fingers. His fingers then start to knead inwards towards his spine as he feels himself grow solid enough to register the whisper of breath against his hair and Sylvain's unclouded scent. ]
I'm not rejecting you.
[ He doesn't think he ever could, as close as they've grown in this world and in theirs. He's always been drawn to the Sylvain hidden beneath several layers of flirtatious pretense. The anguish, the pain, the cynicism... if he answered Sylvain's question honestly, he'd simply say: ]
I want to know more of you. In any way you'd let me.
[ A pause as he raises eyes to meet Sylvain's, purposefully leaning in close. ]
Do you reject me?