Chapter Text
"Speaking of soulmarks, Do you have one?"
"I used to. I was ten when it dissapeared."
"Sorry." You winced. Sylvain laughs and waves away your discomfort.
"Declan used to joke that my soulmate was a senile person at the end of their life span. I couldn't stop thinking about it for years." He paused, expression darkening as if recalling bad memories. "It burned, when the mark dissapeared. I was ten, it was probably the most painful thing I've ever went through."
What Sylvain does not say: The loss was the worst part still, a sharp feelinh of losing something special before ever knowing it.
"Anyways. I get used to it. I've had most of my life carved in stone, it's nice that I don't have to wory about my love life being under the influence of some.. fate. Though, I believe this would just make it easier for my father to have me married to a daughter from some noble house of his choosing."
To be honest, you didn't really know how to reply. This vulnerable person sitting next to you was far from the ever smiling, friendly to a fault, Sylvain.
"Can't tell if you're losing or winning."
"Losing." He offered a small, sad smile. Peering at you, he perked a little. An idea must have popped into his head. "You?"
"Me, what?" you answered, baffled. Not expecting to be put in the spotlight so soon.
"Your tragic soulmate story?"
"Oh, that. I don't know."
"You don't know?" he repeated. Disbelief.
"I never checked."
"Really? Well, you did lose your memories." Sylvain said. "Knowing you, it's probably in some intimate hidden area, if you catch my meaning."
"Oh yeah? Sure. Why not check."
And here he was. Back to his rotten self. You learned one new thing from being around him all this time and that's you hate losing from him.
With that in mind, You slowly begun your evil masterplan. Starting from the coat you were wearing. Immediately the chill bit your exposed arms. You paused to gauge his reaction. True to himself, Sylvain played along, watching amusedly. It irked you. He must've thought you weren't going to do it all the way. Stupid brat. You'll show him.
Continuing where you left off, you were starting to unbotton your school uniform, the white flimsy thing that the school gave you. Under it, you were wearing a very, very thin camisole inside, courtesy to summer, so you prayed that no one would walk past and mistake you for some exhibitionist. As you reached the third button, Sylvain sputtered. Bingo. Just to spite him, you reached for the next lower button.
"Hold on! Wait. Okay. You're really freaking me out here. Don't strip in front of people!"
You looked up, letting him has his view of your bewitching undershirt. "Oh. You were enjoying the show just a few seconds ago."
Slyvain covered his face with his palm, though it doesn't quite cover his reddening ears. "I was counting on you to bail."
"Why would I?"
By now, He looked thoroughly scandalized and hissed. Musing his hair in one frustrated swipe, he moved toward you. You felt like your heart was about to leap out of your chest. His fingers was deftly buttoning you back up. His eyes no longer held that teasing glint. Once done, he threw your coat at you.
He looked irritated. Almost angry, like you've just crossed a line. It filled you with pride. You liked seeing him like this, no mask in sight. Pushing sylvain's buttons was slowly becoming your favorite past time. His unguarded expression is the best reward. He looked like he was about to give you his two cents, but thought better of it. He stood, and promptly trudged away.
You called after his back, not done with your scheme just yet. "Hey, Sylvain! We still haven't figured out where my mark is!"
It only made him walk faster. You held back a laugh.
--
How. Out of all the women he's been involved with, no one has managed to make him want to grab his hair out due of frustration. The sight of your gleeful laugh at his embarasment made him clench the sheet under him.
In restropect, maybe it was his fault, the innuendos, he was the one who challenged you in the first place. But he was Sylvain for goddess' sake. That's the sort of thing he does. It should be the sort of thing he could get away with. Not with you, evidently.
He pranced around his room in annoyance and stopped in front of his reflection. He haven't checked his soulmark for years. Despite that, he'd known, remembered the exact place where his skin was marred. Phantom of the pain that went through him when the writing dissapeared, sometimes comes back to haunt him after all.
He discarded his clothes, tracing his hand across his inner upper arm, he watched as his skin that was supposed to be free of ink, is now scribbled again.
No way. When did this happen?
He grabbed at it for a better purchase, better angle to read it with.
His eyes moved to read the name.
Sylvain blanched.
--
You stared at your reflection in the mirror. It's been near fifteen minutes and you haven't found any names inked on your skin. Even after ardouos amount of manuevering around to look at places that are out of view. A headache is starting to build, you decided it was a good time to give up.
It's nowhere. Does this mean you're unmarked?
You grabbed a blanket and dived back first into the bed. It creaked under you, but you were just glad to be able to straighten your back.
Well, It makes sense. You didn't come from this universe, originally. Maybe the soulmark thing doesn't apply. You felt glad, for that means freedom, and a little bitter, for missing out on experiencing a soulmate bond.
--
His smile was a bit stiff when you greeted him that morning. It must've been last night's incident still grating him.
"Hey, you. Sorry about last night. I checked everywhere, but turns out I'm unmarked. Isn't that great? We're twinning."
Something unreadable crossed his face. That stiff smile still plastered on. "Oh yeah? Are you sure?"
You thought about how solemn he suddenly looked, but nodded nonetheless. "Positive."
"Hm." was all he offered as the both of you made your way to your respective seats.
--
"Look. Sorry for meddling in something private, but do you realize you have a soulmark?"
"Huh?"
At your confused response, Claude grimaced. "Ah. Of course you do. I just thought since most peolke chose to hide their marks, it kinda took me aback how you're just splaying it out. I understand how people has different ways of expressing love-"
"Claude. I don't even have one."
He stopped, looking at you through squinted eyes. Then, he tapped his fingers gingerly to the back of his neck.
You mirrored his action. "No way." You'd stopped breathing. Your palm covering the skin of your neck all too late. Have you been broadcasting it all this time without knowing whenever you tied your hair up for practice?
Claude has switched from his initial shock to a knowing, amused smirk. Out of all the people to catch you at a moment of vulnerability. You swallowed your pride. "Uh. Can you read it out to me?"
"Sure. It's a bit small so if you don't mind me stepping closer." You turned your back to him and you felt his gaze on your back. You're almost one hundred percent sure he's grinning behind you right now.
"How exquisite. I'm hoping to get invited to the wedding, by the way."
"Who is it?" You bite out. From his reaction, it must be someone you both knew. A fellow student, you guessed. You turned around to glare at him. Dammit. He was grinning.
Claude looked like he was savoring the look of panic on your face and took a few seconds pretending to ponder the answer.
"Ah. It's none other than Sylvain gautier himself, of course."
"Please don't joke around right now."
"I wasn't. Do you want to get a second opinion, just to be sure? I think I saw Felix near the dummy area going full on aggresive"
"No! But. Sylvain had a soulmark. How can it be possible? How does this stupid thing even work."
Claude must've sensed your immense worry because he offered you a rueful smile. "I'm here if you need to talk."
--
True to Claude's word, Felix was near the dummy area. But he wasn't going full stabby mode despite the house leader's claim. In fact, he was looking like he's on a break. Under normal circumstances, Felix would be too consumed in his training to care for any passerbys.
"Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" Felix paused. "Did you meet Annette's ghost?"
"What? No. Felix, this is worse than any ghosts."
He looked to where you were still holding your hand, understanding crossed his face. He snorted. "You found out."
"You knew. You little shit, you knew and you didn't tell me."
"It was none of my business." He turned curt. "Also, I'd hate to be the one to tell you."
If Felix wasn't holding a sword, you would've tackled him to the ground. Not that you're strong enough to do it, but a girl can dream.
"Did you tell him? Does he know?"
"If you're speaking about that idiot redhead, then no. I told you it's not my business."
You shot him a sour look before leaving.