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A stroll around the grounds of Garreg Mach Monastery would never have been Seteth’s first idea for a way to spend time with his partner (a ‘date’ is what Flayn calls it), but walking the grounds with Byleth at his side, admiring the place they both live and work as it gets painted beautiful shades of orange by the setting sun, proves to be a wonderful use of his time. They don’t have total privacy, but not many students are just wandering the grounds at this time of night, and those two do spot them tend to keep their distance, allowing the pair some space. Whenever nobody is looking, Seteth takes Byleth’s hand and squeezes, almost blushing when Byleth gives him one of their small smiles, and when Byleth squeezes back, Seteth’s heart races like he has never courted before.
He wants to keep walking with Byleth forever, but with the sun sinking lower in the sky and the temperature dropping (not to mention the fact he needs to get back to his and Flayn’s quarters before she seeks him out herself and inevitably embarrasses him in front of her professor), Seteth knows they must part ways soon. So, with a heavy heart, he turns to Byleth and says, “My love, I have had a wonderful time, but I am afraid I must return home for the night.”
Never one to show their emotions, Byleth doesn’t sigh or complain or pout, but just smiles again as they say, “Of course. I’ll walk you home.”
Seteth blinks, staring at them. “I beg your pardon?”
“I would like to escort you to your door,” Byleth says, nodding their head in a sort-of bow.
“Byleth…” Seteth says, a smile twitching on his lips. “What are you talking out?” he asks, genuinely confused. He understands this must be an attempt at a romantic gesture, but not one he has heard of, and Byleth has never mentioned it on any of their previous ‘dates’.
Byleth looks in his direction, avoiding eye contact. “Father told me of how he would walk Mother home after dates, so I…” They trail off, nibbling on their bottom lip. “Did I do something wrong?”
Seteth stares at them, noticing the way their free hand fidgets with their robes and the teeth still digging into their lower lip, and sighs softly. They may not emote much, but even Seteth can tell he made Byleth feel awkward. After all, he knows from Jeralt that Byleth didn’t socialise with others their age, so perhaps this was an example of Byleth awkwardly trying to mimic another’s behaviour (this time their father’s) to fit in. So, as his stomach twists with what must be guilt, Seteth shakes his head. “No, not at all. May I hug you?”
“Of course,” Byleth says, smiling weakly, and they don’t flinch when Seteth, normally one to avoid public displays of affection, envelops them in a tight hug. “Can I still walk you home?”
“That sounds wonderful, Byleth,” he whispers.