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The evening sunset filters through the drawn-in curtains of the small cabin, the open window drawing in a cool, spring breeze that stirs Felix from a deep sleep.
He takes a deep breath and feels the now-familiar pain across his chest as the bandages shift and pull. It’s not the worst pain he’s been in, but it still means he’s confined to this Goddess-forsaken bed for a few more days. Felix feels completely useless.
It’s one thing to be unable to train in the early mornings and afternoons but to be told to stay in bed as much as possible? Absolute torture. Mercedes even had the nerve to keep smiling like nothing was wrong when Felix could feel his frustration beginning to flare into an inferno.
A snore to his left reminds him he’s not alone.
Felix turns his head to look, a sharp hiss escaping as pain ripples down his neck. His eyes clamp shut for a moment.
Damn these shit pillows and over-stuffed bed!
Suddenly, he hears a book drop to the floor. Felix opens his eyes in shock to see Sylvain cursing under his breath, springing from the reading chair beside the bed to his side.
“Fe, are you ok? Is it pain? I can get another one of Mercedes’ medicinal herbs and—”
“It’s just my neck. Calm down,” Felix sneers.
A brief moment of confusion passes over Sylvain’s face before the panic is replaced with ease. His shoulders visibly relax.
“Oh thank Seiros, I thought it was your scars or something,” he sighs in relief. Sylvain sits on the edge of the bed and wipes the sleep from his eyes. “Honestly, how does Mercedes even do this sort of thing? It’s way too nerve-wracking.”
“It’s because you care too damn much.”
Felix rolls his eyes, only to find Sylvain looking at him with a warm grin.
“I could never.”
Was it a mistake to have Sylvain be his caretaker during recovery? Probably. Felix had anticipated Mercedes’ offer, but he hadn’t expected Sylvain to passionately insist on volunteering. It would be bothersome and too much of a burden for Sylvain to have the responsibility of looking after him after so recently being named the new Margrave Guatier.
With every reason, Sylvain shook his head and gave him the exact same grin he sees now, one that warmed his core like a blazing hearth.
“Let me stay by your side. It won’t be that bad if two lords are out of commission for a little while. Trust me to take care of you, Fe.”
Gentle lips on Felix’s temple draw him back to the present. Unkempt red hair tickles his nose as Sylvain pulls away and looks to the collection of pillows under his head and upper back.
“Here, let me fluff them up again. It might help.”
“No.” is on the tip of his tongue but he resists the urge. Felix nods quietly and allows Sylvain to help him sit up on the bed. It’s taken a year of their relationship for him to have
some
understanding of why Sylvain gets like this. It always seemed like it was a part of his over-the-top romantic act he pulled back at the Academy or just another way to stoke Felix’s ire.
Sylvain’s love (
Goddess, it still feels strange to admit,
Felix thinks) is patient and attentive. It was overbearing at first, wholly new and foreign but slowly made Felix realize something about himself. In allowing himself to be cared for,
to be loved
, it placed him in the center of Sylvain’s world. He found some peace and an even quieter mind, one that so rarely howled his insecurities and failures in an echoing loop.
It was this outpouring of love and support that helped Felix reach this point, however difficult it had been to accept. The way Sylvain embraced him when tears wouldn’t stop flowing down his cheeks after finally, finally , admitting he was ready for the next step in his transition. It had felt completely selfish when all he had known for the last six years was war and sacrifice, yet despite coming to know why it wasn’t selfish to want this for himself, Felix still cried into Sylvain’s shirt. They were tears of relief and joy.
Sylvain had only held him tighter, running his large hands through midnight hair and whispering how proud he was. He wasn’t just a consistent thorn in Felix’s side.
He was the love of his life.
“Alright, let me know if that’s any better. Definitely thought these pillows would be, like, way more supportive, but they’re kind of just fluffy...and that’s it.”
Felix hums his approval before slowly lowering himself back down, but he stops midway. There
is
something that could make this better.
“Get behind me. Wanna lie back on you,” he mumbles. Sylvain stops working to lean over and perches his chin on Felix’s shoulder.
“Not sure if that’s going to help your neck, sweetheart.”
“Don’t care.”
“Mercedes is going to kill me if you’re in more pain when she checks on you tomorrow,” he groans but complies. Sylvain crawls on the bed and carefully situates himself under the covers and behind Felix. After reassuring Sylvain for the ninth time he’ll say something if it starts to hurt, Felix is gently guided back. The soft fabric of Sylvain’s shirt and less-lean stomach catch his head. It’s much warmer here, better than any over-stuffed pillow or blanket this cabin has.
“Thank you,” Felix whispers. He hears a small rumble of laughter before Sylvain threads his fingers through Felix’s hair again, gently combing from the scalp to the ends. Safety, warmth, and everything that reminds him of what home with Sylvain is.
“Only because you’d do the same for me,” Sylvain hums. It’s like Felix can
hear
the damned wink. He looks up and lifts his hand to pinch Sylvain’s cheek with a smug, but weak, grin.
“Always.”
Caught off-guard, Sylvain laughs and immediately places a loving kiss on the crown of Felix’s head. There is no way of knowing the future, but, for once, Felix allows himself to dream of one.