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“Hilda,” Byleth called out, “your partner is Felix.”
Hilda almost choked on her gum. Oh, goddess, she prayed, anyone but him. “Ohhh, but, um…,” she began, “me and Marianne were planning on working together, and–”
“Everyone has an assigned partner for this project, Hilda. I will not make exceptions.” With that, Byleth unceremoniously dumped a baby carrier, complete with a dead-eyed fake baby doll inside, on her table.
“Wait, professor–” Hilda begged. But it was too late. Byleth had moved on, now standing by Annette’s desk, assigning Ferdinand as her partner. Hilda groaned.
Felix, who she’d spoken to exactly twice before, pulled out the chair next to her and sat down.
“Hi, Felix!” she smiled, trying her best to be friendly. He just nodded at her. Okay. So. It was going to be like that. She didn’t know much about Felix—in fact, she could probably count all the things she knew about him on one hand. He was quiet. One of the blue lions. A member of the lacrosse team. And he was kind of a huge jerk. She’d once asked him for help when it was her turn to clean the classroom and he’d thrown an eraser at her head.
“I know what you’re doing,” he had said, “and there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to help you.”
That was the first time she’d ever talked to him. The second time, he asked to borrow a pen. She gave him one that was running out of ink.
And now she had to work with him for a whole week. So. She figured she might as well try to make nice.
“Soooo,” Hilda began, “what should we name it?”
Felix shrugged and crossed his arms. “Don’t know, don’t care. Name it whatever you want,” he said, because he liked to make everything difficult.
Hilda sighed. “Fine,” she said, “Felix Jr. it is!”
“That's fin–wait.” His head snapped toward her, finally making eye contact. “You’re naming it after me?”
“Yeah, why spend time thinking of a name when we’ve got a perfectly good one right here?”
He opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by loud, sharp laughter from the desk behind them.
“Stop, Annette, you are too much!” Ferdinand cried, wiping tears from his eyes while Annette held her stomach as she laughed.
Felix glared even sharper daggers than usual over at them–no, at Ferdinand–and scowled deeply. But when Annette snorted with laughter, his gaze shifted over to her and melted into something different, something gentler, and a little sad.
And there it was–the answer to Hilda’s problems, hidden in Felix’s eyes.
Hilda did not want to spend her week taking care of a dumb fake baby. She had more important things to do. Like taking naps, or catching up on her shows, or even trying out her new eyeshadow palettes with Dorothea. But when she saw that look, she knew she had a way out.
“You like Ann–mmpff!!”
Hilda found herself cut off. Felix had leapt forward and smothered her with his hand.
“Shut. Your. Mouth.” He said, drawing each word like a sword.
Hilda just grinned evilly, even though Felix couldn’t see it, and licked his hand. He jumped back, face twisted in disgust.
“Gross! What’s your deal, Goneril?”
“Felix,” she said, taking his hands in hers, “I can help you. You see that?” she tilted her head over towards Marianne and Ignatz, who were smiling shyly at each other over their baby. “I made that happen. I can do that for you, too!”
Felix followed her gaze to the two other deer. Their heads were bowed together, giggling quietly. His eyebrows furrowed in consideration.
“What do you want in return?” he asked, pulling away from her.
“Oohh, you know. Not much. Just take little Felix Jr. every night.”
He looked incredulous. “Every single night?”
“I’m really bad with kids! I don’t think I’ve even held a baby before in my life. I’m gonna end up hurting Junior!”
Felix just raised an eyebrow.
Hilda groaned. Okay–she had to go on the offensive. “Fine. We could split time with Junior fifty fifty, and you won’t get any of my help, and your cute little crush will get snatched up by someone else.”
Felix glanced over again at Annette, now excitedly chattering away with Ferdinand, who ran his fingers through his silky-soft ginger locks to emphasize every other word he said. If this were an anime, Hilda thought to herself, Ferdinand would be sparkling.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Goneril.” Felix said with a curt nod.
“Yesss! Matchmaker Hilda back at it again!” Hilda squealed. “Don’t you worry, Felix. With my love expertise, you’re guaranteed to land the girl of your dreams.”
Felix just grunted and scratched at his head. Flakes of dandruff fell onto his black uniform jacket.
Disgusted, Hilda leaned away from him and sucked air in through her teeth. “This,” she said, “might be harder than I thought.”
Normally, when Hilda decided to take on projects like this, it was because she could see that the parties involved only needed a small push to get going.
Marianne always blushed whenever Ignatz came up in conversation. Ignatz had constantly stolen longing glances in Marianne’s direction. A couple weeks ago, Hilda had seen how they both almost passed out when Ignatz's hand brushed Marianne’s as he was passing out papers. All they needed was a little nudge.
But this…with Felix and Annette? This might be work. Felix was just so…Felix-y.
Whatever. As long as it got her out of watching Felix Jr. every single night. Meddling in the love lives of her classmates was much more fun than taking care of some dumb fake baby, anyway.
It was as easy as this: during history, while Hanneman snored away while the students worked, Hilda sat at her desk folding little hats out of looseleaf paper for everyone’s babies. Dimitri tapped her on the shoulder and asked how to make one for his and Claude’s baby, Kevin–and, well, who was she to say no?
“You should send Claude a picture!” she said sweetly. “I’m sure he’d love that.”
“Do you think so?” Dimitri said, his face visibly brightening. “I’ll send him one right now!”
And because she wasn’t quite done yet, she turned back around to Dimitri and smiled. “Hey, don’t you have a game this week?”
Dimitri nodded.
“You know, Claude told me he was thinking of going, but he wasn’t sure...”
“Oh! I should invite him! He could bring Kevin. You’re welcome to attend, as well, you know.”
Hilda shook her head. “Oh, normally I would love to, but I’ve got plans. I’m sure you and Claude will have lots of fun, though!”
Dimitri’s cheeks flushed.
Hilda turned back around in her seat, hardly containing her smug smile. It was just too easy, sometimes.
But Felix would be…a project. Luckily for him, over the course of a decade and a half of watching every rom-com, drama, and shoujo anime in existence, Hilda had developed her three tried-and-true three lessons on love. They were foolproof—even Felix could land a date if he just followed her teachings.
❤ LESSON ONE ❤
Be nice!
In the library, Hilda scrawled “HILDA’S LESSONS ON LOVE” in chunky bubble letters onto a piece of scrap paper. She dotted the page with pink glitter pen hearts. Felix watched her with an arched eyebrow.
“Hilda!” a sing-songy voice called out. Lorenz waltzed over to their table with two babies in his arms. “I do believe Junior is functioning correctly, so I can return him to you at last!”
“Aww, thank you, Lorenz!” Hilda looked up at him with a sticky sweet smile. “But can you just make sure? He just sounded so off earlier. Maybe if you just take him for like, another hour…? You know you’re so much better with kids than I am.”
“Anything to help,” Lorenz said with a satisfied grin.
“He can’t possibly be that stupid,” Felix intoned as Lorenz walked away.
“Oh, stop, he’s just being nice!” Hilda said with a dismissive hand wave. “Anyway. Back to the matter at hand.” She waved her hand over the scrap paper, where she had written down her three lessons on love.
LESSON ONE: Be nice!
LESSON TWO: Be your best self!
LESSON THREE: Be honest!
“That’s it?” Felix said, his eyes skimming the page. “These sound so…generic.”
“Trust me,” Hilda said, placing the cap back on her gel pen, “in every single rom-com, anime, d-drama—any story with with romance, really—all of the couples’ problems stem from not following these very simple lessons. And by the end of the movie or show or whatever, they’re only able to get together because they learned to be nice, be their best selves, and be honest.”
Felix just looked at her, doubtful. “Right.”
“Hey,” Hilda started, poking him in the chest with her pen for emphasis, “it’s not as easy as it sounds. Here, try being nice to me. Just give me a small compliment.”
Felix looked her up and down, his eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. “You...are…” he began, each word spoken slowly, painfully, “very….pink.”
Hilda groaned. “That’s really the best you can come up with?”
Felix just shrugged.
Across the library, Annette and Ferdinand spoke quietly at another table, deep in what appeared to be a serious conversation. Ferdinand’s mouth was pressed into a thin line, and Annette had scrunched her eyebrows together, her hands gesticulating so wildly she almost knocked over the pile of books beside her.
“Look,” Hilda said, “here’s your chance. Go over there and say something nice to her!”
Felix eyes darted over to them, then back to Hilda. “Like what?”
“It doesn’t have to be something big.” Hilda shrugged. “Just say you like her backpack or that she did a good job presenting in class today.”
Felix hesitated, gripping his hands into fists on his lap—but then Ferdinand placed a hand on Annette’s arm, and Felix shot up out of his seat.
“You got this,” Hilda said encouragingly, giving him two thumbs up.
He gulped, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing, and nodded back at her. Like a soldier making his way into battle, he marched forward.
Hilda propped a book in front of her and peeked over the top, watching.
She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could see them pretty clearly. Both Annette and Ferdinand looked up as Felix approached them. Ferdinand narrowed his eyes, but Annette smiled brightly and waved.
So far, so good, Hilda thought to herself as Felix waved back.
Annette said something, then Ferdinand added something on, and Felix scratched the back of his neck. Felix opened his mouth, and—oh shit! Annette laughed! She was blushing! Hilda gripped her book tighter. This was getting good.
But then Felix said something else, and, huh. What was happening? Ferdinand and Annette went quiet. Annette’s eyes widened.
And then everything collapsed quite quickly, like a summer mudslide at Fódlan’s Locket. Annette screeched “You’re evil, Felix!” loud enough for the entire library to hear. Felix held his hands forward, the universal gesture for “woah holy shit, calm down,” but it did nothing. Annette grabbed a book off the table and threw it at his face. It connected with a loud SMACK!
Hilda tossed her book aside and ran over. “There you are, Felix! Wow, um, sorry, I just need to talk to him really quick, excuse us please…”
She grabbed his arm and dragged him out into the hallway, just past the library entrance. “What the fuck happened?” she said at a volume that could very generously be called whispering.
“I just said I liked her singing!” Felix whisper-yelled back, rubbing at his reddening cheek.
Hilda leaned back, her head knocking against the wall behind her. “She doesn’t like when people bring up her songs!”
“How the hell was I supposed to know that!?”
“Because,” Hilda spat at him, “she literally says so all the time!”
“Well, I like them,” Felix said quietly, eyes downcast.
Boys, Hilda thought as she slapped her hand to her forehead.
Hilda began to chastise him, but then Felix slammed his hand against the wall, just past her ear. She gasped and jumped a little in shock. What the hell was he doing? Was he trying to make a point? Trying to scare her? Her eyes widened in fear and confusion.
“There was a spider on the wall,” he said flatly, seeing the look on her face.
“Oh,” Hilda said, relieved. “Thank you–”
Then, footsteps hurried around the corner. “Felix, ugh, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have hit you with that book, I—oh!!”
Annette stared at them, and in that moment Hilda realized how bad they probably looked. Hilda, leaning back, Felix, closing her in with his hand against the wall–it was a scene straight out of one of Hilda’s shows.
“Annette!” Hilda exclaimed as she shoved Felix away. “Hi! I was just, um. Checking to make sure Felix wasn’t hurt too bad. He’s fine!”
“...Spider,” Felix said lamely, holding his palm up to show Annette. She blinked. There was nothing on his hand.
“Oh…” Annette said quietly, “Well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and it seems like you are, so…I’m just gonna…” She whipped around, bumped into the doorjamb, and disappeared back into the library before Hilda or Felix could get a word in.
Felix groaned and sank to the floor, head held in his hands.
“Hilda, there you are!” Lorenz chimed, rounding the corner. “I’m so sorry, but I really need to dedicate time to my own child—”
“Not now, Lorenz!” Hilda and Felix hissed in unison.
Lorenz just nodded and shrunk back, leaving Hilda and Felix alone again. She reached down and patted Felix’s greasy head. This was bad, yeah. But it was salvageable. They still had two more love lessons to get through, after all.
❤ LESSON TWO ❤
Be your best self!
The next day, Hilda asked Felix to meet her at the mall after class, and he just looked at her blankly. She had to give him directions. To the mall. Which was literally a five-minute walk down the street from school. And had always been since, like, their entire time at the academy.
“I haven’t bought new clothes since I was fourteen,” he said, standing with one hand in his pocket and the other holding onto Junior’s carrier.
Hilda sipped at her boba. “Huh. You don’t say,” she said, eyeing his all-black outfit. He had on a black hoodie, black jeans, and black sneakers, all of which were worn and torn and not in the stylish, intentional way.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Oh, nothing. Let’s just get going, shall we?” She grabbed his free arm and started pulling him deeper into the mall.
“I still don’t understand how this is going to help me,” Felix said, letting himself be dragged along.
“I told you, being your best self means taking care of yourself! So that means, like, using a face cleanser and washing your hair with shampoo that doesn’t serve more than one function, and most of all, dressing to look and feel your best!”
“But I feel fine in these clothes.”
“And that’s just it!” Hilda said, stopping so abruptly that Felix nearly walked right into her. She stared him down with such conviction that he shrank back a little. “You feel fine. The right outfit will make you feel amazing.”
Felix made a small tch sound. “I doubt clothes can change how I feel about myself.”
Hilda rolled her eyes and continued tugging him along. “We’ll see about that.”
❤❤❤
Felix’s eyes were wide as he looked into the mirror. Hilda had, after much back-and-forth, coaxed him into an outfit that 1) wasn’t all black and 2) fit him properly. His black hoodie had been traded for a teal and navy one, his black jeans swapped for a pair of dark grey joggers. Even his shoes were exchanged for clean, white sneakers.
“How do you feel?” Hilda asked him.
He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. “I…feel good,” Felix said after a moment, almost involuntarily. Honestly, that was a surprise—when they walked into the store, Felix’s hackles immediately went up. It was one of those stores that were dark inside and heavy with the stench of cheap cologne. A handsome and bored employee—who was also shirtless, for some reason—had nodded at them as they walked over, and Hilda almost ripped Felix's arm off getting him to go inside.
“Of course you do!” Hilda said with a grin. “You’re a total winter, so you look best in cool tones like these. The teal really contrasts with your eyes. Plus I picked out stuff I knew you would be able to move around in.”
Felix just nodded while Hilda went on. “What, did you think I was gonna put you in a suit or something? I told you, fashion is about being your best self! I wasn’t gonna force you to wear something that wasn’t you.”
“Right,” Felix said, turning this way and that to look at himself in the mirror. And—was that the tiniest hint of a smile on his face? Hilda’s heart swelled with pride at the sight.
She placed her hands on his shoulders and gave them a small squeeze. “You look good, Felix,” she said, her voice softening. “Really. Wouldn’t you agree, Junior?”
On the dressing room floor, Junior made a small giggling noise from his carrier.
“Thanks,” Felix replied, his voice free of its usual acid.
Their eyes met in the mirror, and Hilda’s smile broke into a giddy grin. He really did look good. And he was holding himself differently, too–his back had straightened and he held his head high.
Hilda squealed. “This is going so well! Now let’s get you some dandruff shampoo.”
He whirled around to look at her. “Why the hell do I need that?”
She sighed. “You’ve still got a lot to learn. Come on.”
Hilda grabbed his arm again, but this time, she noticed she was met with less resistance. They paid for their purchases and she tugged him along outside the store, making a beeline for Sephora.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a glimmering, glinting display at the front of a jewelry store, and she couldn’t help but come to a stop. Holst had always laughed and called her a little magpie, and she could never deny it. She just loved shiny, beautiful things.
Felix snorted–giving Hilda a small scare, as she had gazed at the garish earrings and necklaces on display so intently she’d almost forgotten he was there. “What, you want those?” he said, “those are hideous.”
Hilda giggled. “I know, right? I could do way better. That’s a beautiful cut on the sapphire, though…” Her voice trailed off, wistful, and her hand subconsciously trailed upwards to the earrings she wore.
Felix’s eyes flicked from the display to Hilda’s earrings. “Did you make those?” he asked.
“Oh, these? Yeah. I love the design, but it doesn’t look anywhere near as clean as the ones here…”
Felix nodded, his arms crossed. “They…look nice. Sturdy.”
Hilda’s head whipped in his direction. “Did you just…did you compliment me!? Wow! Maybe you learned something from our first lesson after all.”
He refused to make eye contact with her. “Don’t make me regret it. I’m just making an observation.”
Hilda smiled sadly. “Thank you, Felix. Really. I love making jewelry. I’ve thought about maybe trying to sell some, or even taking design classes, but…my dad would never approve. He just thinks of jewelry as my silly little hobby.”
Something within Felix must have snapped. “Fuck that,” he barked suddenly, making Hilda jump. “It’s a miracle that there’s something out there that makes you actually want to work, and you’re good at it. It’s your life, not his.”
"You...really think I could—"
"I do," Felix said sharply, cutting her off.
Hilda just stared at him, mouth open in shock. Felix wasn’t the type to joke like that. He was nothing if not blunt, forthright. So Hilda had no choice but to believe him.
Her eyes watered. “Awww!” she squealed, and threw herself at him, enveloping him into a bone-crushing hug. “That was the sweetest thing you might have ever said in your life!”
“Don’t mention it,” he said, bringing a hand up to pat her on the back. “Seriously, though. Don’t.”
It was nice, for a moment, but then–
“Annette!?” Felix exclaimed.
Oh no.
Hilda and Felix jumped away from each other. Annette stood there, staring at them, arms full of shopping bags.
“Hey!,” Hilda said at a pitch a little too high to be natural. “What are you doing here?”
“Um,” Annette began, looking everywhere but at Felix and Hilda, “There was a sale on scented candles and lotion, so me and Mercie wanted to stock up…”
“That sounds fun!” Hilda said with a plastered on grin. “We were just…looking for outfits for Junior!”
Felix nodded. “R-right.”
“Oh,” Annette said, rubbing her arm, “That’s nice…” Then, she looked Felix up and down, her eyes widening a little. “You, um…you look nice, Felix…”
His face went red. “Thank you.”
They all went quiet. It was devastatingly awkward. Hilda wanted to melt into the floor, and by the look on Felix’s face, he felt the same.
Then, Felix’s eyes widened. “Wait,” he said, “where’s Junior?”
Hilda’s head whipped around–there was no Junior in her arms, not in Felix’s, not on the ground…
“Fuck!” Hilda exclaimed, “We left him in the dressing room!” She took off down the hall, only looking over her shoulder to yell, “See you later, Annette!”
Felix looked back and forth between Hilda and Annette before mumbling “see you,” and running after Hilda.
“Yeah, see you…,” Annette muttered, but Felix and Hilda couldn’t hear her.
❤ LESSON THREE ❤
Be honest!
Felix paced the floor of his room, Felix Jr. resting quietly in his arms. This situation couldn’t possibly be any worse. First he had to do this stupid fake baby assignment, then he got Hilda Goneril as a partner, then Annette had seen him with Hilda not once, but twice in the most compromising, embarrassing positions.
That’s what he gets for listening to Hilda, of all people.
“We have to fix this,” he huffed, his nails digging into his palms.
“Felix,” Hilda sighed, exasperated. “The point of the green tea sheet mask and leave-in hair conditioner combo is to relax.”
Felix spun around to look at her, nearly sending his sheet mask and his hair wrap flying. “How can I possibly relax right now? Annette probably thinks we’re…that we’re…”
“Fucking,” Hilda said matter-of-factly from where she splayed out on the bed, not even looking up from the TikToks she was scrolling through.
Felix groaned. “Yeah.” A beat, and then he asked her, “how long do we have to leave these things on?” He tugged a bit on his sheet mask, which was now on the verge of sliding off.
Though he was opposed to the idea of a spa night at first, he had to admit–the mask felt cool and calming against his skin. And his itchy scalp had improved dramatically since he’d started using Hilda’s one-function-each shampoo and conditioner. Perhaps there were some things Hilda was right about.
“Ten minutes,” Hilda replied, rolling onto her back and reclining against Felix’s pillows. “Ow,” she added, “why are your pillows so lumpy?” She balled a hand into a fist and punched at the pillow, trying to adjust it to her liking.
“Anyway, in those ten minutes, you’re supposed to, you know, chill out. Getting worked up about this isn’t going to help.”
Felix sighed and sat at his desk. He knew she was right, but she didn’t have to be so irritating about it. “Well, what do you think I should do? You’re the love coach.”
Hilda fiddled with Felix’s pillows more. “We’ll figure this out. Maybe you could get her a gift? What does Annette like?”
Felix blinked. “Uh. Singing…and…food?”
Hilda rolled her eyes. “Think harder than that!”
“Right. Um,” Felix tilted his head back (though not far back enough to knock his hair towel off) and closed his eyes. What did Annette like? She contained multitudes. She couldn’t be defined by a list of simple likes and dislikes…but Felix figured he could try.
He spoke slowly, feeling his words out carefully. “She likes…Mercedes, and cats, and books—nonfiction, especially…” He got up, his feet taking him to the window. The school grounds were mostly obscured by the darkness now, but he imagined he could still see Annette out by the greenhouse—one of her favorite spots, and one where he’d often caught her singing. He smiled to himself at the memory.
“She likes flowers even though she’s allergic, and baking, and being creative. She writes these songs that sound like they don’t mean anything but always have a deeper message. She likes her friends…she’s so fiercely loyal to them, even if they don’t deserve it, and—hey! Are you even listening to me?”
Felix turned his head to see Hilda had, for once, buried her nose in a book, while he poured his heart out.
“Sorry!” Hilda replied, “I got distracted. Why is this sad book under your pillow?”
Felix went cold. It couldn’t be…could it? “What sad book?”
Hilda flipped to the front page. She squinted, trying hard to make out the words. “My Dark and Twisted Mind.”
Felix’s heart nearly dropped out of his ass. He whipped around to face her. “That’s not a sad book!” he exclaimed. “That’s my journal!”
Hilda clapped her hand to her mouth. “Ohhhh! Sorry! But that does explain all the poems about the flame-haired girl…”
“Give that back!” Felix growled, leaping towards her like a cat on the hunt.
“Wait!” she said, jumping up to stand on the bed, holding the book just out of Felix’s reach. “They’re not bad poems! You should read one to her!”
“Hilda, give that back right fucking now or I will end you.”
“Flame-haired girl,” she recited from the book’s pages, “you light a fire in me.”
“Hilda!”
He lunged for her, but she leapt off the bed, nimbly dodging out of his way. “How can I go on, when in another’s arms you will always be? Wait, Felix, this is so cute!”
Every word she read was like a dagger in his dark and twisted heart. He tossed Felix Jr. off to the side and the doll started to cry, but Felix couldn’t give less of a shit about Junior in that moment. Felix grabbed at Hilda’s arm, trying in vain to pull the book towards him, but Hilda managed to keep it just out of his grasp.
“How are you so strong!?” he gasped, eyes wide with equal parts confusion and awe. If he weren’t so angry, he’d ask for her training regimen.
“Why are you so weak!?”
They continued to wrestle for the book until Felix managed to knock it out of her hands and onto the floor. They looked at each other, then at the book, and then they both jumped for it.
They landed together in a heap on the floor, Felix on top of Hilda.
“Owww,” Hilda groaned. “That hurt!”
“Serves you right,” he spat back.
Just then, a knock at the door, and it slowly creaked open.
“Um, Felix, are you in here?” a small voice asked. “I know you don’t like sweets, so I made cheddar scones–”
Annette stood in the doorway, tupperware filled with homemade scones in her hand. For a second that seemed to stretch on into eternity, she just looked at Felix and Hilda on the floor, and Felix and Hilda looked back at her. Felix’s sheet mask peeled off and fell to the floor. Somewhere in the room, Junior kept crying.
“O-oh!” she sputtered, her face blooming red as a tomato, “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I didn’t mean to…I just…I’ll just go!”
The plastic tupperware clattered to the floor as she ran off.
“Annette, wait!” Felix called, his arm outstretched over Hilda’s head. “It’s not what it looks like!”
“Okay,” Hilda said. “This is bad.”
“You think?” Felix growled as he rolled off of her. “I can’t…I can’t let this happen again.”
“You’re going after her?” Hilda asked as he got up and started for the door. “Wait, Felix!”
He didn’t stop for her. He ripped his hair wrap off and stormed out, running so fast he could hear his pulse in his ears. He reached the end of the hall, just before the stairs, when suddenly—Ferdinand stepped out from the stairway.
“Halt!” Ferdinand said, holding his hand palm out toward Felix.
“Get out of the way, Aegir,” Felix spat. “You’re wasting my time!”
“I will do no such thing,” Ferdinand said, holding his ground. “I know what you’re planning. You’re going after sweet Annette. And after what you’ve done to her, I swear I won’t let you get near her!”
“What did Felix do to Annette?” Hilda huffed, finally catching up. “Fuck, Felix, you’re fast!”
Ferdinand puffed out his chest. “This…this villain broke her heart! And now she’s run off to the greenhouse in tears!”
“Why are you following me?” Felix said, too busy spitting venom at Hilda to pay attention to Ferdinand. “This is your fault.”
“Woah!” Hilda said holding up her hands defensively. “This is my fault? When all I’ve done was try to help you?”
“Did you not hear me?” Ferdinand repeated. “I said this villain–”
“You made this worse!” Felix went on, “You and your stupid lessons!”
Hilda stared at him, her face slowly twisting in anger. “Okay. Let’s get this straight. You think I’m the reason Annette isn’t in your arms right now?” She jabbed her finger into Felix’s chest. “There’s no one here to blame but you, Felix.”
Felix backed up, bracing himself against her rage. Hilda could be scary when she wanted to—especially now that he knew how fucking strong she was. “All I tried to do was help you be a little bit nicer, a little more honest. The real problem is you. You can be rude, and kinda gross, and most of all you’re a big fucking baby who’s too scared to show people how much he really cares about them!”
Even Ferdinand shut his mouth at that. His eyes darted between Felix and Hilda as they stared daggers at each other. He cleared his throat. “If I may…” he offered quietly, “Annette has told me she likes Felix, but she can’t tell how he feels about her because, well, frankly, Felix, you can be…um…acerbic? Unapproachable? Um, a kind of a—”
“An asshole,” Hilda finished for him, arms crossed. “You can be a huge asshole.”
Ferdinand nodded. “Right, that.”
Felix blinked, the gears in his head stuttering to a stop. “Annette likes me?”
“Well, yes,” Ferdinand said, “but like I said, she’s unsure of your feelings because of…well, you’re you.”
“Oh,” was all Felix said. This was a lot of information to process at once.
Hilda reached towards Felix and he braced himself, ready to take the blow she was sure to deal him and that he probably deserved.
Hilda just sighed, “you dumbass,” and fixed his hair. She tousled her fingers through his locks until they looked artfully disheveled rather than gracelessly undone. “There,” she said, “now you’re ready.”
Felix felt…unmoored by the gesture, to say the least. Somehow it had hurt more than a punch or a slap ever could. After all he’d said—she still wanted to help him.
He knew what he had to say, but the words didn’t come easily.
“I…um…sorry, Hilda.”
Hilda smiled. “I know you are. I’m kind of getting used to you now. You just get riled up really easily because you care so much and then you blow up at people you care about since you don’t know how to handle big feelings–”
“Enough,” Felix begged, desperate to stop the psychoanalysis. “Again, I’m sorry. Now, can I go get the girl?”
“Yes!” Hilda said, clasping her hands.
“No!” Ferdinand exclaimed. “You broke her heart, and I will let you hurt her no further!”
“Ferdie,” Hilda pleaded, “he’s changed. I swear. Before now he’s probably never apologized for anything in his life!”
“I am afraid that my stance is firm,” Ferdinand said, crossing his arms and blocking the stairwell completely.
Felix gritted his teeth and pushed up his sleeves. “If he won’t move, I’ll just have to make him.”
“Ooookay!” Hilda said, sliding between the two boys. “Ferdie, I’m so sorry, but I promise this is much nicer than whatever he’d do to you.”
Ferdinand opened his mouth, but before he could voice his confusion, Hilda raised a knee and brought her foot down on his. Ferdinand yelped in pain, gripping his foot as he fell against the wall. Felix took advantage of the opening and pushed past Ferdinand, but before he could get down the stairs, Hilda grabbed his arm.
“Wait,” she said, pressing Felix’s journal into his hand, “we still had one more lesson to go over, remember? It’s time to be honest.”
Felix nodded in understanding, and Hilda released her grip on him. Once he was free, he dashed down the stairwell.
Ferdinand continued to whine. Tears formed in his eyes. “Why?” he mouthed.
“I’ll take you to Manuela later, promise!” Hilda replied, vaulting down the stairs after Felix. Her voice echoed up from the bottom of the stairwell. “Sorry again, Ferdie!”
Ferdinand just slid against the wall and crumpled onto the floor.
❤❤❤
In the greenhouse, haloed by soft, misty light, Felix gripped his journal with sweaty palms. Hilda’s words echoed in his mind. Be honest.
From the planter where she sat, Annette looked up at him with tear stains streaking her cheeks.
Behind a trellis, Hilda peeked out, her breath held in anticipation.
And in the shadows of a towering monstera’s fronds, Dedue stood statue-still and unnoticed, waiting for the least awkward moment to step out and tell the intruders he needed to close the greenhouse.
Felix swallowed hard, opened his journal, and spoke.
“Flame-haired girl,” he said, his voice shaking, “you light a fire in me…”
❤❤❤
“C minus?” Felix said, looking up at Byleth incredulously. “Why? Unlike the rest of these clowns, we were able to keep Junior in tact.”
Byleth sighed. “When was the last time you heard Junior cry?”
Hilda tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Like, two days ago?”
Byleth nodded. “Right. You paid so little attention to him that he died.”
Felix and Hilda looked at each other.
“I’m serious,” Byleth said, “his battery actually died and you two didn’t even notice.”
“Oh,” they said in unison.
“But since your baby isn’t…eviscerated,” Byleth said, eyeing Lysithea as she tried desperately to force stuffing back into her and Bernadetta’s baby, “I decided you’ll still get a passing grade.”
“Cool!” Hilda said. “Thanks, professor!”
Byleth just shook their head, muttered something about fearing for the future of Fódlan, and moved on.
“Well, that could have been way worse,” Hilda said, turning towards Felix with a smile. “Look at that,” she added, “you ended this project with a passing grade and a girlfriend!”
“Shut up,” Felix said, crossing his arms and turning away from her, barely hiding the smile in his voice as he glanced over at Annette.
A few tables behind them, Annette looked up and smiled shyly at Felix, her cheeks blooming red.
Hilda grinned and leaned back in her chair. Another successful love story for the books. She had to admit—hard work sucked, but when it paid off? It felt amazing. “Can I just ask you for one more teensy little favor?”
Felix rolled his eyes, but he humored her. “What is it this time?”
“When you guys have a daughter,” she said, reveling in the way Felix’s eyes widened at that, “she better be named Hilda.”