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Mercedes is working in the infirmary with Manuela when Sylvain comes in, accompanied by a scowling Felix. That is not unusual. Felix and Sylvain are close, or as close as Felix gets with anyone. As for the scowl, that is also typical. Mercedes has come to interpret a scowl as neutral and a smile as being ecstatic. That is just who Felix is as a human being.
But what is unusual is the fact that Sylvain's hand is wrapped in his jacket and blood is still dripping from his injury.
Dropping the salve she was mixing, Mercedes rushes over with what she hopes is an equally worried and disapproving expression. "What happened?" She asks when she reaches her classmates, unwrapping the jacket so she can take a look.
"Well, it's really funny," Sylvain starts as Felix says,
"Idiot dropped a sword." Felix gestures to his belt, where a sword is currently sheathed. Mercedes knows enough to recognize that there are different grips for different stances, but not enough to tell if there's anything special about that sword in particular. Besides, she's a bit distracted by the way Sylvain is bleeding.
"I thought you wanted it back," Sylvain replies right as he yelps. "What are you doing?"
Mercedes stops poking the cut. It's actually more like a gash, extending across the entirety of Sylvain's palm. The wound itself, thankfully, doesn't seem very deep. She won't have any trouble healing it. Were it anywhere else, she might not even expend the magic, but it's Sylvain's dominant hand and if he can't use it properly then he won't be as good with a lance.
"Examining the wound. What happened exactly?" She asks.
"I let go of the sword because I thought Felix was holding it, but then it started to fall—"
"And your solution was to grab the blade?"
"I was aiming for the hilt!"
"Well, you missed."
"Thank Seiros that we have your observant eyes. What would we do without — ow!"
"Boys! Please stop fighting. I am trying to heal Sylvain," Mercedes chides. Felix huffs but withdraws his elbow from Sylvain's side. Sylvain blushes as he rubs the back of his neck.
"Sorry, Mercedes." He sounds like he actually means it, which is rare. Mercedes decides not to mention it as she finishes up.
"There. Now, still be careful. There's a lot of nerves in your hand, and you don't want to strain them too much. I'd say keep it light on training for the next few days. If you need, I'm sure Manuela can write you something." Mercedes looks at Felix, who seems… surprisingly reluctant to meet her expression.
Oh, Felix never likes looking people in the eyes. Mercedes has seen enough of him to know that. But when he is particularly upset or even embarrassed — which Mercedes has only seen once, but it's hard to forget walking in on your best friend singing with Felix providing harmonies — he blushes and looks away like he wants to stab everyone in the room and then himself.
It doesn't make a lot of sense for him to be embarrassed. He didn't do anything wrong. But while it makes marginally more sense for him to be upset, Sylvain's definitely been injured worse and Sylvain's also perfectly fine now.
"Well, at least now I have an excuse to watch you train while I go do other things," Sylvain teases Felix. "You know what, I think you owe me."
"What?" Felix's head snaps around so he can glare at Sylvain. Mercedes covers her laugh up with her hand. It doesn't seem like either of them are paying attention anyways. "Why do I owe you anything?"
"It's your sword that got me hurt."
"You dropped it! I was giving it to you, and you dropped it. I don't see how it's my fault that you're an idiot."
Sylvain laughs. He winks at Mercedes, thanks her, and then slings an arm over Felix's shoulders. Felix goes bright red but allows Sylvain to lead him out of the infirmary. He's protesting the whole time.
Mercedes giggles one last time before realizing that Sylvain's jacket is still on the floor. There's blood on the floor.
Well, better start cleaning that now. She'll give Sylvain his jacket back later, blood included.
#
The pathway from the training yard to the dining hall is quite possibly the most well-tread at Garreg Mach. Dedue has walked it many times, most often ending an afternoon sparring with Dimitri or going to fetch Dimitri when it's late and His Highness has forgotten to eat. But on this particular day, Dedue is alone on his walk from the training yard to his destination of decent food and hopefully decent company. Byleth has instructed Dedue to focus more on his heavy armor skills, and while Dimitri is no slouch in that category he certainly has better things to do than watch Dedue walk around in ridiculous and ill-fitting armor.
Even among the Knights of Seiros, there are few as tall as Dedue. It's embarrassing.
But Dedue pushes those thoughts out of his head and focuses on what is around him. The chattering students. The green grass. Sylvain and Felix arguing with one another. Petra on her way to train.
Wait, Sylvain and Felix are arguing?
Dedue stops and stands aside, keeping his eyes on the two and not hiding necessarily but certainly not making it clear that he's watching. It is not unusual for Felix and Sylvain to fight, but to argue over something in public? And Felix even has his sword out—
"Look, do you want it or not?" Felix asks, his voice loud enough that it's frankly a miracle that Dedue didn't hear him earlier.
"I don't really see what the point is," Sylvain replies. He sounds genuinely confused, which makes Dedue confused. For all his faults, Sylvain is an observant person and he and Felix are so often on the same course of action. "Wouldn't it be better for you or even Dimitri?"
"I am not asking the boar, I'm asking you. Do you want this or not?" Felix gestures towards the sword in hand. Dedue is too far to see any detail, but he can't imagine Felix would hold anything other than the finest of blades. "It wasn't easy to get. If you turn this down, you'll regret it."
But why on Fódlan why Felix want to give it to Sylvain of all people?
"Jeez, Felix, if it's that big of a deal I'll take it!" Sylvain rubs the back of his neck. "I just don't think I've trained with a sword in ages. Are you sure there's not someone who could use it better?"
It is quiet and, if Dedue were not watching while pretending to examine some plants, he would have thought Felix had walked off. As it is, Felix looks like he make take the sword and put it through Sylvain. Only a general understanding that Felix probably won't maim Sylvain stops Dedue from interfering.
Probably.
Dimitri won't be too upset if Sylvain has to sit out a few lessons in the infirmary, will he?
"Just take the stupid sword. I don't want it." Felix shoves it in Sylvain's hands — thankfully with the sheath on. Sylvain fumbles with it as he calls out, but Felix is already walking away. Strapping it to his side, Sylvain jogs after him.
Dedue decides that there are some aspects of Faerghus culture he will never understand.
#
Ashe doesn't always know what to think of Sylvain. On the one hand, the guy is more likely to be caught in his room with a girl rather than sleeping or studying or anything else. Ashe doesn't even have a room near Sylvain, but he feels for Dimitri, who does. On the other, Sylvain's not a completely terrible human being. Yes, he makes a lot of crude jokes and never takes anything seriously, but he's also… kind. Sort of.
He's not a bad person, though. Ashe knows that much. But sometimes, Ashe still wants to strange Sylvain with one of his bow strings.
"You didn't take into account the wind. That's why your answer is wrong," Sylvain points out. He's sitting on the table while Ashe is in a chair like a normal person. They're supposed to be studying for the upcoming exams. What is actually happening is that Ashe is studying while Sylvain points out all of his mistakes.
Now, Ashe knows he's not stupid. But Sylvain? There's a universe where Sylvain is the smartest person in any of the three houses. It's not this one though. In this universe, Sylvain devotes all of his intelligence to making Ashe regret asking Sylvain to help him with class work.
"Ugh. What's the point of these tests anyway? I'm doing well on my practical application, so why does it matter if I know the exact calculation to fire an arrow if the wind is—" Ashe squints at his book, "—blowing three kilometers an hour north-northwest?"
"Don't ask me," Sylvain says. "I use a lance."
"Thanks." Ashe doesn't mean it.
"Of course! Just helping my good friend out, nothing else going on at all—"
Ashe groans. "What favor do you need this time?"
Sylvain has the audacity to pretend to be shocked. "Wow, Ashe! And here I am, innocently thinking that you actually like me, all while you think that the only reason I'd go out of my way to help you is because—"
"Get to the point. I've got ten more problems and they all have parts A-F."
"I want you to keep an eye on Felix for me."
Ashe frowns. That doesn't sound good.
Sylvain holds up his hands. "It's not — it's not some big deal, he's just been acting weird."
"So you want me to spy on him."
"Yes."
"Have you thought about asking him?"
"Asking him what?"
"If something is happening or worrying him."
"Why would I do that?"
Ashe reminds himself that strangling Sylvain with a bowstring is very hard to do when one's bow is in a different room.
"Why would I be the one to spy on him?" Ashe asks, even though he knows how this ends: with him saying yes and Sylvain thanking him by causing even more chaos in the future. "Can't someone else do it?"
"And who else in our class, dear Ashe, would be good enough to do this for me?" Sylvain replies. He's grinning from ear to ear because he knows that he's right.
"Annette?"
"She'll tell Felix as soon as she gets caught."
"Ingrid?"
"She'll never agree."
"And is that a bad thing?" Ashe sighs at the look Sylvain gives him. "What am I even looking for? Why do you think I'm going to see something that you won't?"
"Just… if he's acting weird." Sylvain waves a hand. "You'll know it when you see it."
"No that — that doesn't make any sense!" Ashe squawks when Sylvain stands up. "Where are you going?"
"Well, I need to leave now if I'm going to make my date. But I'll see you later! Thanks, Ashe!" Sylvain leaves before Ashe can point out that he hasn't agreed and that this is a stupid idea.
Ashe takes it back. He knows exactly what to think of Sylvain and it's that Sylvain is a stupid, arrogant, inconsiderate asshole.
#
Annette finds out from Dorothea who found out from Petra who found out from Claude who doesn't say who he found it out from, but it was probably one of his weekly archery gatherings with Ashe, that Felix has a secret. Now, Annette doesn't really consider herself a huge gossip, because she can respect privacy and wanting to not have one's personal life the subject of conversation amongst every student at Garreg Mach. So she does what any good friend would do in a situation like this: confront the person herself.
She decides to do this while on a whim, in that she's shopping in the market for some ingredients to make dinner with Mercedes, Dedue, and Ashe later and spots Felix haggling with a merchant.
"Felix!" She exclaims, running over with a wide smile. Felix turns bright red which, frankly, is surprising. Annette pulls him into a hug, which he doesn't return at all but the fact that he doesn't try to shove her off is a testament to how close they've grown.
There's not really a language called Felix-ese, but Annette likes to think that she's fluent in it.
"What are you doing?" She asks, looking over the merchant's stall. It's the weaponsmith, of course, but specifically Felix is bartering over a nice silver sword with a gem-studded hilt. It's far fancier than what he usually would use in battle. "Is there something coming up?"
"What? N-No! I'm just looking. I don't even want this sword," Felix stammers.
"What, you want it for 2,300?" The merchant cries.
"Are you joking? 2,000 is my final offer," Felix counters, immediately disproving his own statement.
"2,300 and I'll throw in a parrying dagger as a bonus." The merchant pulls out a dagger that's much simpler, but Annette can tell it's a solid piece. It doesn't have any ridiculous decoration and probably can actually be used in a fight.
Felix stares at it. He looks at the sword. It really is a nice sword. He pulls out his coin purse and starts counting. Annette is just nice enough to wait until he's done and the sword is wrapped in a bundle, the dagger on his hip, to start asking questions.
"If I tell you that I won't answer, will you leave me alone?" Felix asks.
"Nope," Annette replies, popping the p. "I already finished most of my shopping and besides! It's not every day that you see Felix Fraldarius buying a fancy sword. What's it for?"
"Killing people," Felix drawls.
"Uh huh. Even though the gems in the hilt just make you more of a target?" Annette grins. "I've been attending extra seminars."
Felix rolls his eyes and walks faster. Annette has to hurry to keep up, but she manages. She pesters him all the way to the front gates, where he turns on his heel to scowl down at her. She sticks her tongue out and makes a face. From the way Felix grimaces, he almost mirrors her.
"Why do you care?" He crosses his arms and tries to look intimidating, which works except Annette still remembers him singing in the greenhouse when he thought nobody was around. He had provided some excellent harmonies that day. "It's nothing, Annette. Really." He starts to walk away and Annette says the only thing she can think of—
"I heard that you have a crush!" It works. Felix's eyes go wide. He grabs Annette's wrist and drags her off to the side, all the while frantically looking about to see if any of their classmates have overheard her. There's no one even glancing at them. "So you do have a—"
"No! I just — why would you think I have a crush on someone? Kids have crushes," Felix argues, though the red on his cheeks is betraying him with each passing second. "I'm not a kid."
"So you do like someone though?"
"Not romantically!"
"Enough to get her a sword?" Annette teases. Felix scowls, actually curling his hands into fists and looking like he's about to stomp on the ground. "I think it's, uh, cute. But most girls like things like flowers, you know. Oh! Is it Petra? I bet she'd like a sword."
"I told you, I don't have feelings for anyone, especially not Petra." Felix shakes his head. "What do I have to do to convince you I'm telling the truth?"
Annette almost says Nothing, but then she realizes that this is the kind of opportunity that doesn't come up every day. She grins.
"Well, you know that I'm baking with the others today." She bats her eyes at him. Felix glares.
"Uh huh."
"We always could use company!" She reaches up to poke Felix's face. He narrows his eyes a little more. "Join us?"
Felix lets out the heaviest sigh known to mankind. Then he nods. Annette cheers. She successfully drags Felix to the kitchens that evening, where he sits in the room and listens to the other Lions as they chatter about nothing important. Annette is nice enough to not ask about the sword again, but if she mentions that she saw Felix buying a fancy sword to Mercedes who off-hand brings it up to Marianne who mentions it to Hilda when asked who blabs to Loenie who tells Ingrid —
Well. No one has to know.
#
Ingrid plans on just watching, seeing as she actually understands personal boundaries, unlike the vast majority of her friends. That and, well, she knows that Felix is more likely to spook off if someone asks him. But something is different about him, and not just because he's buying swords with nice decoration. Felix isn't completely without aesthetic appreciation. He just values practicality over being pretty, a fact Ingrid has known ever since they were children.
But he's grumpier than normal, snappier. He almost takes Ashe's head off when Ashe asks if he wants to join the rest of the Lions on a picnic. He yells at Sylvain when the redhead is caught slacking in his training. Well, more than usual. And Felix barely eats, even for him.
So Ingrid has to confront him about it when another night at the dining hall passes and Felix is not to be seen. She heads to the training yard because there's nowhere else he could be. Then, when he isn't there, Ingrid actually finds herself concerned.
"Hey, Ferdinand, have you seen Felix at all?" Ingrid asks as she heads back from the training yard. Ferdinand looks like he just came from the stables — is Felix on stable duty? "Or Sylvain," she adds on second thought.
"What? No, sorry," Ferdinand replies. "Is everything okay?"
Ingrid nods, even though she doesn't know if that's true. "Thank you." With that, she starts wandering back to the great hall. Is Felix sick? Or injured? With that in mind, she decides to go to the infirmary. At the very least, she'll be able to eliminate it from possible places he could be.
She doesn't end up getting all the way there, because she spots Sylvain running after a familiar black-haired grump, that mop of red hair crossing the lawn and shouting at the top of his lungs.
Well, that answers my question, Ingrid thinks. She almost leaves it, not quite in the mood for an argument, but she also doesn't want to hear tomorrow that Felix actually killed Sylvain.
"What is going on here?" She asks, marching over to her two friends. Sylvain turns and waves, not at all abashed. Ingrid crosses off girl problem from her mental list. "You two are so loud, I could hear you from the other side of the monastery!"
"Sorry, Ingrid," Sylvain says, not sounding sorry at all. "Felix is just being — hey, don't walk off!"
Felix is already a dozen paces away, though he does stop when Sylvain and Ingrid catch up with him. He glares at Sylvain, though Ingrid can see it's his usual annoyance and not true aggravation. Still, what has Sylvain done this time? He almost always deserves it, but Ingrid does like to know what she's going to chastise him for before she does anything.
"It's none of your business," Felix tells Ingrid. "Sylvain is being an ass."
"You're confusing," Sylvain complains. "First, Felix comes and asks if I'm busy. Then he says he has something for me and gives me this!" Sylvain gestures to the sword hanging at his belt. Swords hanging, that in. "And get this, it's not the first one he's given me. Weird, right? But he keeps saying—"
"They're just practical!" Felix stomps on the ground. "I can understand some of the others not getting it, but you're from Faerghus. It's perfectly normal to get someone you — you care for a weapon as a gift."
Ingrid's so much from Faerghus that her distant ancestor literally was one of the founders and she's never heard of giving someone a weapon unless it's very specifically a relic passed from parent to child or a very formal courting request, but those—
Oh, Ingrid thinks. Never thought I would see Felix actively try to court someone…
She looks at Sylvain. She looks at Felix. Felix looks pale as a ghost. Sylvain just looks confused.
"Was it something I said?" Sylvain asks. Felix is quiet, but he looks like he might scream or run off. Really, either seem like possible courses of action for him.
"Felix has been gifting you…" Ingrid trails off.
"Swords, yeah! This is the third one. Get a guy some chocolate or something," Sylvain kids.
With swords, Ingrid mentally clarifies.
"Chocolate isn't practical," Felix points out.
"Neither are swords when I use a lance," Sylvain counters.
"They don't have any interesting lances." Felix shakes his head. "If you want me to stop, then you can just say that." He actually sounds bitter, a fact not lost on Ingrid or Sylvain.
"Nah, it's kind of fun. Weird, but fun." Sylvain grins. "Have you gotten Ingrid any swords? I can't be the only person you're feeling charitable towards."
"If I was feeling charitable, I'd do the world a favor and use one of the swords to get your ego down a peg or two," Felix drawls. Ingrid sighs. Sylvain has no idea why Felix is getting him swords and there's not a chance that Felix is going to change that anytime soon.
She could cut in, explain the misunderstanding, or at the very least force them to talk it out like almost-adults. But Felix already looks five seconds from spontaneously combusting and Sylvain's never done a damn thing it his life to try to examine his own emotions, so maybe the two really don't need her interference.
"You two are perfect for each other," Ingrid says instead, giving Felix a pointed look. He doesn't meet her gaze.
#
"They're idiots," Ingrid finishes her story. Dimitri nods slowly, though he really only took in the fact that Felix is courting Sylvain with swords — there was something about how Felix was being stupid and that she was going to lock both of them in a classroom until they talked, but—
"I don't see what the concern is," Dimitri admits. "A weapon is a fine gift for someone that you have feelings towards."
Ingrid sighs. Dimitri supposes that he's made a mistake and that weapons are not standard gifts, but he thinks that his opinion should have some merit. After all, they're beautiful, practical, and show that you think the other person is at least semi-competent. And is there really anything more romantic than saying that you'd trust someone in battle?
"But at the very least he could buy Sylvain some lances. You know, something Sylvain actually uses."
"Sylvain knows how to use a sword," Dimitri argues. "We all do."
"How many times has Sylvain used a sword in battle?" Ingrid points out. Dimitri is forced to concede that portion of their spat. "I probably should have said something, I just got caught up in the moment…"
"Well, do you want me to say something?" Dimitri asks.
"No, no, I think that — um, well, what I'm trying to say is—"
"Felix would never talk to me about it," Dimitri says, sighing softly. "Dedue, you told me the other day that you saw Felix giving Sylvain a sword. Have you seen Sylvain with that sword since then?"
Dedue, who has been silently working on some embroidery while Ingrid and Dimitri talk instead of studying, shakes his head. "I do not believe I have. But I did not get a close look at the sword, so I may be mistaken."
"If he isn't using them, Felix surely must be growing annoyed. Certainly he'll have to confront Sylvain about them sooner or later," Dimitri states.
"Confront as in talk or confront as in fight? Because I don't see Felix talking things out…" Ingrid frowns. "And anything I say is going to sound like I'm chiding them. They'll never listen to me."
"Your Highness, if you feel that the best course of action is to talk to one of them, perhaps we should ask Mercedes or Annette. Both of them are close to Felix and Sylvain, are they not?"
"True, but I wouldn't want to get more people involved than necessary. Gossip can be a frightening thing." For once, Ingrid and Dedue share a look. Dimitri, blissfully unaware, just shakes his head once more. "No, no, we shouldn't interfere unless it gets more drastic. They're our friends. We need to trust that they can work things out."
"Okay," Ingrid replies, "However, if we find out that Felix has skewered Sylvain on his sword, then it isn't my fault."
"No, that would be Sylvain's. He probably deserved it." Dimitri waved a hand. "But I know it won't get that for. Now, Dedue, tell me more about how your heavy armor training is going."
#
Byleth stares at Sylvain with their usual blank expression. Mentally, they aren't sure how to react. They know they sometimes have issues hearing people and understanding them, so they ask Sylvain to repeat himself.
"Yeah, sure, I just was wondering if I could start training with swords. I'm thinking I'd be a pretty good myrmidon." Sylvain flexes one arm. "Besides, Ingrid and Dimitri already have the calvary covered. So—"
"No." Byleth goes back to the essays strewn across their desk. They regret listening to Hanneman's advice of assign lots of work because now they have to grade all of it. Manuela had a much better idea when she suggested a hands on approach to learning, though Byleth still wasn't sure what that meant either.
Sylvain frowns. "Oh, come on. You aren't interested at all in another swordmaster?"
"You use lances and ride a horse." Byleth offers a rare smile. "Though that may change soon."
"Wait, what?"
Byleth is already looking back at the papers. Maybe if they accidentally drop some in the fishing pond…
"Can I at least learn a bit about swords?" Sylvain asks. Byleth raises an eyebrow, though their eyes don't move. Prompted by the silence, Sylvain continues. "Look, I've just come into possession of, uh, a lot of really nice swords. And if I don't know how to use them properly, I'm just going to hurt myself with them, but it's a waste to have them lying around. So—"
"Give them to Felix."
"I can't because he's the one who gave them to me in the first place."
Now Byleth looks at Sylvain. Other than the two of them, the classroom is empty, though the sound of students right outside the door is still drifting in alongside the fall breeze. It's nice out. Byleth would rather be outside than doing paperwork.
But the essays…
"I think that I will host a hands on training seminar today for swords." They stand up and, without too much regret, leave the essays behind. Sylvain blinks and then runs to catch up with them.
"Does this mean you said yes?"
Byleth doesn't reply.
#
Sylvain knocks on Felix's door one evening, not quite at night as the last vestiges of the sun's rays have yet to fully disappear under the crest of the treetops, but after dinner and after confirming that Felix isn't training himself to death.
Felix doesn't answer the door the first or second time, but he does answer the third time with a glare and a scowl.
"What do you want?"
"Can we talk?" Sylvain holds up a bottle of wine. Felix looks at it with the same empty expression. "It's not stolen! Ashe gave it to me after I helped him out." Actually, Ashe had given it to him after getting Sylvain to promise to stop asking him about Felix's whereabouts and activities all day. But hey, who was keeping track?
Felix almost looks like he's going to shut the door in Sylvain's face, but then he opens it and nods towards his desk. "Just don't touch anything."
It's a real favor to ask, because Felix's room is covered with shit. Not literal shit, but it's a close thing. Sylvain can see old papers, dirty sword cleaning rags, dirty clothes, old swords —
"Isn't this supposed to be in the armory?" Sylvain asks, gesturing to the silver sword that hangs on Felix's wall.
"Byleth gave it to me. Said that they were proud of me for the last battle." A moment passes, Felix standing awkwardly in the middle of his room while Sylvain stands close to the door, largely in fear of stepping on something that shouldn't be stepped on. "What did you want?"
"I wanted to talk about the swords," Sylvain says, though now that he thinks about it and sees the perplexed look on Felix's face, he probably could have phrased that better. "The ones you keep giving me."
"What about them?"
"What are they for?"
"They're swords."
Sylvain gives Felix a look. Felix looks away. Sylvain clears his throat.
"I know that much, Fe. But why do you keep giving them to me?"
"Because they're useful."
"Then buy me a lance."
"I—" Felix falls silent. "Do you really not know why I've been giving you these swords?"
"Well, I assume they're at least a little bit because you're Felix and you think a sword is an acceptable gift to give for any occasion," Sylvain teases. He lets his smile drop into a frown not a moment later. "I just wanted to make sure I'm not reading too much into it."
Silence. Silence. Silence.
"Felix?"
"What are you reading into?" Felix asks.
"Well, you know that people used to give swords for a lot of reasons. To show loyalty." Sylvain steps closer. "To show respect." Another step. "To show love." One last step. They're close enough to each other that Sylvain can see the glossy look in Felix's eyes, the very edge of tears. Frustration or something else? Sylvain can't tell. "Am I wrong?"
Felix licks his lips. "What if I say you're reading too far into it?"
Sylvain grins. "I'd say that you're lying." He wipes his hands on his pants. "Hey, Fe?"
"What?" Felix isn't nearly as angry as he looks. His voice doesn't have that edge, that bite. It's too withdrawn, his Adam's apple bobbing as he breathes.
"Can I kiss you?" Sylvain asks, bringing his hands up to hold Felix's hips. Felix licks his lips.
"You better not be messing around, Gautier," he mutters.
"Never. Not with you. Not about this." Sylvain taps his chest right over his heart, then uses that hand to caress Felix's cheek. Felix flinches and Sylvain's heart could shatter, but then Felix leans into the touch and instead Sylvain's heart melts. "I'm sorry I'm an idiot. I really didn't know what the swords were for."
"Who told you?"
"No one!" Sylvain sighs. "Dimitri started giving me advice on sword qualities. I kind of figured it out from there."
"Ugh." Felix stands on the tips of his toes and, without any ceremony, presses his lips to Sylvain's. Before Sylvain can even wax poetic, Felix pulls away. "Do me a favor and never mention the boar again."
"Okay!" Sylvain kisses Felix again, and this time he doesn't stop.
Felix tastes like the spices from dinner and he smells like sweat from the training grounds and he's soft like the wind. Sylvain feels the uncomfortable press of sword hilts in his stomach. He decides this was totally worth all the swords in his room now.
He never wants this to end, only breaking away when Felix elbows him in the side. Gently, this time, but enough so Sylvain stops.
"Some of us need air," Felix grumbles. He looks at his desk, though he lets Sylvain keep his hands on Felix's hips. "I have assignments."
"Want to not do them with me?" Sylvain offers. Felix rolls his eyes, but if the two end up kissing on Felix's bed all night? Well, no one has to know.
#
Sylvain gets Felix a lance for his birthday. It's terribly underappreciated.