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[It's all over. And yet not, because they're going to continue traveling together. One thing ends and another begins and the world hasn't ended.

But however final that conversation with the Head Housemaiden had felt, it turns out that beginning and end are a lot less distinct than anticipated. It's not like they were gonna immediately take off on a new journey, after all. Especially not when the whole of Dormont is eager to celebrate with their heroes.

The End Of The World party has become a The World Didn't End party, as promised, and the shift in theme only seems to have amped up the energy of the festivities. Which is fair enough. Mirabelle, the Chosen One, has been mobbed nonstop by both grateful townsfolk and friends from the House, and she looks happy enough to see everyone safe and movie that a rescue isn't even warranted. Odile looks genuinely happy, deep in conversation with the librarian from the House. And it looks like Bonnie is making friends with some of the local kids, or at least enjoying the awe as they regale them with stories of their adventure.

It's good. Everyone is happy and full of life. It's just kind of...overwhelming? Siffrin wasn't exactly big on crowds even before the timelooping business, and it's been so long with just the same few faces repeating the same lines that this is all A Lot. Their general air of quiet mystery and exhaustion has kept most people from doing more than offering their thanks in passing, but Siffrin still feels drained regardless. It's so loud.

But he couldn't spoil the fun for everyone else. They deserve it after saving the whole country, and especially after dealing with all his nonsense. So he quietly slips away while they're all otherwise occupied. He doesn't intend to go far – the idea of not having his family nearby spikes anxious tightness in his chest, and he doubts that's gonna go away anytime soon – but just...around back of one of the buildings should be fine, right? He can peek around the side periodically to reassure himself with a glimpse of everyone. He just needs a wall to muffle the festivities somewhat.]

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[The acceptance comes all too easily. Some tension eases out of Siffrin's shoulders and is quickly replaced by a swell of fondness for their fighter. Part of them wants to just take Isabeau at face value, burrow into that relief and comfort and then dig no deeper so as to not disrupt the cozy feeling.

But that's too easy.

They tug gently at Isabeau's hand, turning to make sure he looks them in the eye. That anxious, sick feeling hasn't fully left them, but they look resolute enough about this. It's important.]

You don't have to answer so fast. Really think about it. Please? I just...don't like thinking you might end up denying yourself something you really want because you feel like you've already committed.

[And privately, selfishly, they don't like thinking of the opposite either – getting invested only for Isabeau to later decide he's not okay with it after all. It's not that they think of Isabeau as being that fickle, but...well, if it took this much to get him to risk confessing, how long would he drag his feet in fear of causing more hurt if he changed his mind later? Surely the sting of rejection now would hurt less than having their whole heart gouged out later on.

And he called Isabeau dramatic. Sheesh.]

I promise I'll be okay with it if...well, if you aren't okay with it.

[He turns to face them when he's beckoned, meeting a resolute gaze that makes his offer to discover things together die in his throat. Quiet admonishment is their reply, and his shoulders sag, deflating a little as they say what they do. Siffrin... thinks he didn't take them seriously. And while they aren't at all harsh about it, he does get the sense that he'd hurt their feelings in being so quick to answer.]

Sif. [He finally notices that looser grip on his hand, and reaffirms his own.] If I needed more time to think about something regarding us, I promise you I would have asked for it.

[He supposes he deserves an accusation of insincerity. Siffrin knows well enough how much of a people pleaser he is, and the kinds of personalities he dons when the situation calls for the "himbo" or the "self-help booklet." It makes sense that they'd suspect he's up to the same old thing. Stings too, but makes sense. They very plainly only want to make sure he's not forcing himself, after all.]

But I already have thought about this. I mean... I've liked you for awhile, you know? [He lifts their linked hands up to press his second to them, cradling Siffrin's hand in both his own.] And for all that time, I didn't even think I'd get this much.

[Siffrin's face only gets darker somehow. Didn't even really think that was possible at this point. Their hand flexes uncertainly between Isabeau's before tentatively settling in that secure grip.]

Sorry, I don't mean to–

[They gesture vaguely with their free hand, hoping that it somehow conveys all of their fumbling and neuroticism and latent issues. There's a lot to cover there and he's not the most eloquent person. Even thinking about all of it just highlights how absurd this whole thing is to him. Surely, someone like Isabeau could pull basically anyone he wants. It's hardly like he's lacking in options, and anyone else would probably come with a lot less baggage.

The struggle for words saves them from saying as much, at least, and Siffrin bites back the instinct to keep picking at this. They won't insult Isabeau by continuing to question and test him.

(Not right now, at least. One day at a time.)

Taking a breath, Siffrin just. Leans forward, and lets their forehead rest lightly against Isabeau's shoulder.]

...Thanks.

[They didn't need to say they were sorry, but Isabeau gets the feeling that saying as much would just invite more unneeded friction. Instead, he simply smiles, arching an amused eyebrow when they gesture at themselves like they need to apologize for the whole Siffrin. A mutual misunderstanding isn't such a bad thing. And his heart is all the lighter for having been able to reassure them that he'll be alright.]

Don't even worry about it.

[He doesn't think that will convince them not to worry, but he'd like them to know that he doesn't want them to. His assurance is met with the soft pressure of their forehead resting against his shoulder, and any leftover anxiety is swiftly replaced by a swelling fondness, like the joy one feels when a beloved cat slowly butts their head against you. The ultimate sign of trust. He fights the urge to ruffle their hair and instead closes his eyes, relaxing to the moment.]

...My turn to ask something awkward. [Segued like a true master of social interactions. He managed to keep his tone of voice even, at least.] I really want to hug you right now, but I'm not sure what level of touch you're actually comfortable with?

[Occasional helping and handholds have been happening all day without any fuss, so he knows something must be up with the assumptions he's made about Siffrin's desire for personal space. But he lacks definition. And now would be a great time to try and fill in some blanks.]

I already set the awkward bar pretty high. You're gonna have to try harder than that.

[Maybe if their tone is kept light enough and their face remains planted against Isabeau's shoulder, no one will ever realize the extent to which a simple request for a hug makes their face heat up. Belatedly, they nod into Isa's shirt.]

By which I mean yeah, it's okay.

[The question reminds him of Bonnie making sense of his boundaries with all their preteen experience and logic, pointedly announcing their hugs before diving in. A little goofy and awkward, yes, but...nice.

(He tries not to think about how that interaction never happened now. Even if things are good now, there's still a melancholy that comes with the thought of all the memories he doesn't share with anyone.)

That the question is asked at all, though... Siffrin had sort of hoped all the casual touching after everything earlier would be enough to signal to everyone that there had been a misunderstanding. Evidently, he wasn't so lucky. Which was fair – directly asking is certainly the best way to avoid further confusion – but it still makes Siffrin want to die a little to just have to spell it out directly. How embarrassing, to be a human who craves normal casual intimacy.]

I don't actually...dislike being touched. Just...not really used to it.

[Sure, he wouldn't really want any random strangers casually touching him, but his little family was a different matter. Now, anyway. Obviously, that level of comfort hadn't been there from the start. And he can't really blame any of them for trying to be considerate. It's not like they could have known when they passed that hidden threshold of comfort, or that he'd been stuck reliving the same interactions over and over until all he could do was overthink their distance.]

Aww, I don't think it was all that bad.

[Their rebuttal gets a small laugh out of him, buried in the moment and hopefully not heard around any building corners. He reassured them, but it's still kinda true! Siffrin set the awkward bar so high, even a giraffe could limbo under it. But, isn't that fine? Being awkward with each other is just one of many steps toward being comfortable with each other. As evidenced by the slow nod against his shoulder, consent murmured with this kind of casual fatigue.]

I can? Really?? It's okay?

[Spoken as hushed as he can manage, a bit of a yelled whisper. He's doing his best not to let his excitement disturb the quiet of the moment. Siffrin very casually gave him permission to Enact a Hug, so he should be equally casual about it. It's not even a romantic hug. It is a regular friend hug, the kind of thing he does with Bonnie and Mirabelle all the time. Normal hug with the fellas. He's got this. He very gently lets go of Siffrin's hand, as though releasing them is its own kind of sin that he'll have to repent for later. And with equally careful arms, he'll pull Siffrin in, wrapping them around his back and pressing him to his chest in the softest hold that a man who is all muscle is capable of. He takes a deep breath, wills himself to relax, and...

Wow. He's not going to say "wow" out loud, because it might make this weird but, wow. It's been awhile since he's felt this calm while his heart is beating so fast. Caring about others can be contradictory like that. He's always been fond of it.]

Not used to it? How do you mean?

[He has his guesses. It might have to do with their memory, or how long they traveled before they met everyone. Maybe they weren't held much as a kid? But he can easily imagine this isn't the kind of subject where Siffrin would appreciate him putting his words in their mouth, so...]

[It's so gentle. Careful, even, like Siffrin is made of glass. There's so much tenderness and care in the hug that they could almost cry, and at the same time the delicacy is almost maddening. Part of him wants to tell Isabeau that it's really ok, he can handle more. He wants more, wants Isa to crush his ribcage, wants to be squeezed so tight so can't breathe. But asking for the contact at all is mortifying enough, so they instead just tentatively lift their arms to return the hug. Try to match the energy of it, normal light platonic first time hugging and all that. Tries not to clutch and cling like he wants to.

Still, a soft little sigh escapes him against his will, and he leans into Isabeau's solidness and warmth. His voice is a little muffled against it.]

Just...y'know. Not used to it.

[They'd gesture vaguely again, but that would require letting go of Isabeau, so they settle for a shrug.]

I mean, I was on my on before meeting you guys, so...yeah.

[Of course they wonder if it has always been that way. They know they had a family, once upon a time. Did they hug and all that? Were there childhood friends he had this sort of casual intimacy with? Was he normal, or was this distance an extension of a similarly touchless upbringing?

He doesn't know. Can't remember. Even the concept of remembering feels fuzzy somehow, like it's less an obvious hole he's always sidestepping and more a patch of static his mind instinctively avoids. Most days he doesn't think about it at all, all thoughts on the subject skittering away automatically. He doesn't know if that's better or worse than constant awareness of what's missing – less actively despair-inducing, maybe, but more of a haunting, incomprehensible void. It's a constant emptiness whose original filling is only ever remembered with effort. And straining to remember so only ever leads to headaches and distress, and he really doesn't want to spoil this moment, so as usual he just lets it go.]

[Siffrin's arms wind their way around him and Isabeau wonders if this is what a midlife crisis is like. He's missed out on Siffrin hugs his whole life. This is terrible! He's been living his life in deficit, and now only has so many years to catch up! Quietly, right in this spot, he laments, he celebrates, and he appreciates every second he spends with their form wrapped up in his.]

Right... you said before that you've been traveling for a long time. And you were on your own that whole time?

[But it took them a moment, didn't it? Just like the couple of times he'd taken their hand before now. A bit of hesitation, and this stiffness that he'd thought for ages meant discomfort. "Not used to it" makes him re-contextualize every attempt he's ever made to touch them before now, from the beginning when he'd done it accidentally, up until the day before today, when he'd either avoid it entirely, or at least manage to catch himself in the act. What must all that have looked like to Siffrin, without any context?]

So I guess... from your point of view, it was like we all just decided to stop touching you one day, and you had no idea why?

[In retrospect, it was a little weird of their group to have that discussion, and come to the conclusion they did, without talking to Siffrin first. They jumped right to respecting his personal space without ever checking to see if that's even what he wanted! Isn't that actually a little cold? Could it really be called kindness when it was just another way to avoid confrontation or embarrassment? But then again, they're also the group of goofballs who all wanted to keep traveling together even after defeating the King, and got to the very end of their journey without saying as much to each other... Isabeau is starting to think. That maybe they're all just Like This, somewhat.]

[Siffrin just nods again into Isabeau's shoulder, eager to move on from the first point. Because it's weird, isn't it? Even after everything, knowing he is loved and blah blah blah, he still shies away from the thought of telling them everything. Would they still look at him the same if they knew everything? He was just a drifter before them, after all – no home, no family, no friends, no goals, no ties to anything or anyone. A person like that sounds suspicious even to him.

Mirabelle had given him a weird look way back when they were still traveling, when he said it was the happiest he'd ever been. Thinking back on it, he'd thought it was because it was an inconsiderate thing of him to say when the journey was something she was forced into under such terrible circumstances. But that wasn't it after all, was it? She'd enjoyed the journey too. It wasn't that it was inconsiderate, but rather that it was just...strange. What kind of person had so little going on in their life that a deadly adventure with a bunch of near-strangers ranked higher on the happiness scale than anything else?

He grimaces at the thought, glad to have Isabeau's shoulder to hide it in.]

It's not...like that, really. I didn't even really notice back then.

[Which doesn't sound great on their part either, ugh. But he doesn't want any of them to feel guilty for trying to be thoughtful.]

I mean, I guess I just take a while to warm up to people anyway? So I was probably kinda avoiding you guys a little too at first, which...is probably what gave you that idea in the first place.

[See? His fault, not theirs.]

I only really noticed because of the loops. Since we kept having the same interactions, I ended up paying more attention and started to notice everyone avoided touching me. And it didn't really bother me at first, just...

[Siffrin frowns, struggling to find the words for it without just rambling. How does he explain the journey from confusion to trying to force small instances of contact so he could get used to it and convey that he's cool with it? The slow swing into despair and self-loathing when nothing ever worked, nothing ever changed, and surely there had to be more to it? Surely it actually meant they all secretly found him repulsive?

Yeah, it sounds insane and neurotic even in his own head.]

Edited (belatedly notices a typo shhh) 2024-07-03 17:09 (UTC)

[They didn't notice? As someone who personally couldn't stand to have no contact with anyone whatsoever, Isabeau's kneejerk reaction is to find that hard to believe. It takes some effort to chase away that doubt, even while understanding that they all had more important things to think about over the course of their journey. It's just. He loves being around other people! He'd hug a complete stranger if it really seemed like they needed it. Lessening his contact with others is something he has to teach himself how to do, and the desire for closeness is so ingrained that he even still screws up from time to time, catching himself reaching out and having to quickly retract.

...If that's really how Siffrin felt about it all at the time, then Isabeau thinks he must be pretty lucky to have what he does now. Can he hug them a little tighter, just out of gratitude? That should be alright.]

Just... [He picks up where Siffrin trails off, musing over their words. What does it mean to learn about yourself through repetition? And how does that change your growth when the world around you doesn't react at all to those changes? Is it worse than when they react negatively? When it's not rejection, not acceptance, not anything? He feels like... he's only beginning to comprehend how much time Siffrin spent locked away from the people who love them.]

Once you notice something like that, the cat's out of the bag, right? You can't un-notice it. And you start to wonder why, because it feels like everyone made that decision without you.

[He's not... quite talking about just Siffrin's experience, here. Changing is just about the only way he can relate to what that might have been like, even if it's not even close to a one-to-one comparison. He can only guess. He can only try to understand.]

Is it kinda like that?

[Isabeau's arms tighten a little around them and it squeezes a soft sigh out of Siffrin unintentionally. Please don't call them out on it, they may drop dead on the spot.]

Something like that.

[It did sort of feel that way when they first asked Isabeau what was up with the aborted shoulder touch thing. Getting told they didn't like being touched and only being able to think, I don't? Wondering if maybe they were somehow actually right about that, too. After all, he's forgotten plenty of other things about himself.

And either way, what was he supposed to do? Correct the misunderstanding again and again every loop? Could he have handled having this conversation again and again and again, repeatedly pouring his guts out, raw and vulnerable, only for it to be forgotten again within a day or two at most?

But that was the struggle with most things in the loops. Nothing mattered. No matter how warm and touching the interaction, it was soon wiped out and reduced to another chore to get through. He zoned out through so many precious moments, and in the end none of them mattered because the timeline that stuck around was the one where he set a torch to all his relationships and went through the house alone. Every snacktime, every bonding moment, every bit of banter, all of it was ultimately his alone, memories shared with no one.

It's a lonely thought. Siffrin presses closer to Isabeau, quietly hoping it'll encourage him to squeeze them tighter.]

But this is nice.

[Understatement of the fucking century, but no need to scare Isabeau off immediately by acting insanely needy.]

[Siffrin confirms but he doesn't elaborate. And Isabeau gets that, really. Whatever they tell him about the loops is up to them, and he can imagine that the fatigue they feel is many magnitudes greater than his own. Not the best state to be having the real in depth feelings talky-talks. That might not come for anyone in the party until they've put a greater distance between themselves and Dormont.

Perfect timing, then, for Siffrin to inject a moment of rest amidst all the worries and honest admissions.]

...Yeah. It is.

[He can't help the warmth in his voice, unfairly spreading a little bit of love into what is supposed to be The Fellas Hug. It's nice. Too nice for his usual fretting to settle in. Siffrin is warm and almost weightless against him, just this little thing that Isabeau has always wanted to curl up against himself and make feel safe. And as they press closer to him, he hears a silent request for more and is quietly thrilled to oblige. This hug has been a centimeter given, a centimeter taken. So he guides them in for five more of those little measurement fellas, fingertips curling into that darkless cloak as he wraps them up in a way that allows him to rest his head atop theirs. (So short!)]

And you can have it whenever you want. Blanket permissions for the future.

[Ohh, don't say that, Isa. It's dangerous. Because he'll want to, and he'll have to manage restraint. And after everything, he doesn't know how much willpower he'll have for resisting that sort of thing for a while. Acting normal is hard.

They definitely don't feel normal about this right now. Normal people don't feel like they could explode over a simple hug. Sane people don't tear up over getting tucked in close and held so securely like this. Suffrin can't help but wonder how much lonher they can get away with this before Isabeau realizes what a lunatic they are.]

Same. Just...maybe don't surprise me with it or anything like that? But I think that'd be okay.

[Tiptoeing around casual contact with his friends like this does drive that lonely feeling a bit – like, they can't even manage something this innocuous without making a whole production of it? Pathetic. But better that than facing the inevitable concerned looks and fussing and whatnot if he flinches.

Besides, throwing the gates open wide like this is probably the fastest and easiest way to get used to touch. Faster than quick pokes and brushing shoulders every once in a while, anyway.

It's possible they'll push themselves too hard with this. It's hard to imagine right now while they almost want to cut Isabeau open and crawl inside him, but maybe it'll eventually be too much. But they soothe themself with the certainty that Isabeau would definitely back off immediately and without question if Siffrin told him to. Funny how knowing how easily they could put a stop to it makes it easier to continue.]

...Are we still ok sharing beds and tents and all that?

[He can definitely detect some tension in them after sweeping them up like this. A little stiffness, a tighter hold. Isabeau is a mite concerned, but... he's learning, too. This isn't all that different from when he'd first taken their hand tonight, feeling that reflexive fear of the unknown settle into a wanted grip. It's alright. If Siffrin really wants him to let go, they'll say as much.

He feels a little more secure in that as the conversation carries on.]

Yeah! Yeah, I can handle that. [His best buddy! Wants even more hugs!! Sorry, does he sound too giddy? He'll try to dial it back. It won't work, but he'll try.] I'll ask, or tap you on the shoulder, or something. We'll get you as used to this as you want to be in no time.

[Whatever that ends up being for Siffrin, because it's entirely possible they don't know what that limit is yet. Or maybe he does, and it's too embarrassing to say so soon? Isabeau hums as he muses over this or that thing, which leaves him especially vulnerable to Siffrin's hit-and-run of a subject change. Heat rushes to his face as every muscle in his body tenses up, and Sif may find themself suddenly squeezed a lot tighter than they expected.]

HUH?? WILL... it? I-I mean. [Oh man. Okay. Whew. First, he is releasing Siffrin from the death grip the sudden shock drove him to. Isabeau very gently widens his arms, resuming their much more neutral hug, and spends one deep breath of a second being grateful it's so dark out.]

I... hadn't even thought about that. [But now he very much is. Intrusive thoughts fight with each other to reach the forefront of his mind, and it takes a concentrated effort on his part to put aside thoughts of holding hands in bed so he can answer Siffrin's question. Deep breath. Deep, stuttering breath.]

Well. Considering I was already cool with it before I confessed, I don't think that'll change for me? [He won't promise, because it's possible things are different now and he doesn't know it yet, but.] I'll let you know, but I'm good with whatever you're comfortable with?

[The sudden squeeze drives a little gasp of breath out of him, literally wringing the air out of him, but he certainly doesn't mind. What they mind is the moment immediately afterward, when they feel Isabeau's grip on them loosening and they're seized with the sudden panic that they've fucked up, it's just like the kiss, Isa is recoiling in disgust and it's over it's all over–

If he could still loop, he probably would have.

His head swims, caught between the instinctual fear of it and the slow recognition that he didn't, and Isa wasn't actually letting him go. He barely even hears Isabeau's actual response. The words sound like they're underwater, so muffled and distant through the throbbing pulse of Siffrin's own heartbeat in their ears. It's really safe now, right?

For a moment or two, Siffrin is stiff, tense, and then despite all his best efforts to be cool his own grip goes desperately tight, arching up on his toes and press himself as close as possible, face buried in Isabeau's neck and silently praying please don't misunderstand, please, please–

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, they're both saved from having to immediately address that by the sound of Odile's voice, dry but faintly amused.]

Immediately ditching the rest of us to canoodle in the dark, hm? I see how it is.

[Siffrin practically leaps away from Isabeau, face several shades darker as he spins to find Odile by the corner of the building, arms crossed and brows raised.]

[He doesn't know why, but as soon as he begins to loosen his grip even slightly, Siffrin clings on for dear life. Arms grasp at him with a strength he didn't know they were capable of, fingertips dig into his shirt like nails are trying to find his skin, and Change, it makes him so worried.] Sif?

[The words "are you okay?" are on his lips, but he doesn't get the chance to say more- a dry, amused voice cuts in and Siffrin promptly flings themself from him. Isabeau just about jumps out of his skin at that sound himself, still awkwardly holding his arms out as he turns to face the source. That's... Odile? It is! There she is, perched against the corner of the boulangerie, regarding the two of them wild her usual mild judgement. Cutting, but also very much above it all. Pressing a hand to his chest, he lets out a mixed sigh, relief and disappointment both filtered through his attempt to calm himself down. He wouldn't dare begrudge her for showing up, but... it definitely feels like she interrupted something important. Something he'll have to ask Siffrin about later.]

Good evening, M'dame! Were you looking for us?

[Change the subject. Draw it away from the canoodling they were absolutely just doing, because he is soooooo not talking about that with her. If Isabeau wasn't already blushing profusely from the question before, he most certainly would be now. The heat is impossible to chase away, but he does his best to collect himself around it. His voice only wavered a little bit! A new record!]

Or maybe you were also hoping to escape the noise of the party for a bit?

[Odile's brows creep up a little higher at their obvious flustering, but she says nothing more about it. Sometimes that's actually worse, where Odile is concerned, but for now Siffrin is counting it as a blessing.]

The former. We were trying to decide on our sleeping arrangements for the night. Mirabelle is going to be staying with her friends at the House for tonight, but the rest of us have been offered rooms there as well, or continued use of the clock tower. Do either of you have a preference?

[Siffrin's valiant efforts to play it cool are immediately squashed the moment she says sleeping arrangements as if summoned by Siffrin bringing it up. They duck their face into their collar, glancing sideways at Isabeau.

Truthfully, he'd prefer the tower. He wants to keep as many of them as possible as close as he can. But that sounds embarrassingly clingy, so he keeps his mouth shut. At least the benefit of being "the quiet one" is that people let him get away with staying silent more often.]

O-oh?? Uh.

[

(...)

Of course it's about sleeping arrangements. Of course it is. Isabeau manages to shore up his reaction enough to not just parrot what Odile says back to her, but the brief moment of panic is unfortunately probably enough for her to start sussing out their prior conversation. Urgh.

He takes a (probably very telling) glance toward Siffrin, only to discover that they're already staring right back at him, in a very "please answer this I don't know what to say!!" kind of way. The panic, it is obvious. And unfortunately for Siffrin, Isabeau can only tell that they're panicking, and not which option they'd prefer. Personally... he's inclined toward the clock tower, for reasons he'll be giving the good m'dame in a second. Siffrin will just have to hope that answer suits them.]

Much as I appreciate their offer, I think I'll stick with the clock tower.

[He and the rest of his party just spent several very distraught hours climbing a House with weird warping rooms full of frozen friends and absurdly powerful enemies, in pursuit of the person that just spent the day kicking them while they were down because Change, they all love him more than one day of cruel words can undo. And then they fought said friend atop its tallest tower, while the sky cracked open above them and a strange shade shone its oppressive light down on them.

Isabeau doesn't really want to go back there right now.]

I don't think I'd be able to sleep in the same rooms that were all topsy-turvy just a few hours ago.

[Siffrin exhales a relieved breath as Isabeau provides an answer that's both logical and also the one they were quietly hoping for, and nods along with it to demonstrate that agreement. Perhaps a little too eagerly, but let them live, it has been a hell of a day.

For her part, Odile glances between the two of them for a moment, letting that pause hang in the air just long enough to say all the things she won't vocalize herself, before the corner of her lip quirks up.]

Can't argue with that. I'll round up Bonnie. See you there whenever you two are ready.

[With a last pointed look at Isabeau, she gives a loose wave and disappears back around the corner toward the party. Siffrin waits until she's vanished to sag back against the wall, a breath of soft laughter escaping him.]

When you put it like that, I think I've had my fill of the House for the rest of my life.

[He hadn't even really thought of that, so wrapped up in pathetically clingy thoughts, but it's a very good point and one that goes double for him. He'd hardly deny any of the others if they wanted their own room for a night – that sort of thing has been a rarity since long before Dormont, given all their travels – but Siffrin has spent far, far more than his fair share of time in that House.

Appreciative, and maybe also hoping to distract Isabeau from immediately jumping back on more awkward subjects, he gently bumps Isa's shoulder with his own.]

[Odile levies him with her finest appraising look, like she's warning him in particular not to get in further trouble, and Isabeau visibly swallows as he waits for the moment to pass. Gives a weak little wiggle of his fingers in response to her wave goodbye. He gets the feeling he'll be rebuffing her attempts to levy him for details at the next scheduled bar crawl. It's private, now! No more love life details!!

...It's a look he probably needed, though. Because when Siffrin bumps their shoulder up against his, he wants to wrap them right back up in his arms. Cling to them so tightly that they can't help but cling back, like that brief moment he got just before Odile interrupted them. He truly is a shameless romantic of a man. Gotta at least try not to be so clingy that Siffrin backs off due to an overabundance of suffocating physical touch. Isabeau grins at that and leans back, making himself content with just this much. It is a fraction of warmth, and that is better than no warmth.]

Oh crab, I didn't even think of that! [Of course Siffrin wouldn't want to go back! Wow, he sure did completely luck into choosing the right option there...]

I'm exhausted just from climbing it once. How did you even manage to get through that mess as many times as you did?

[Whoo! Distraction successful. Siffrin is internally patting himself on the back when Isabeau says that, and a dry, bitter laugh escapes him. Ah well. They shrug, aiming for a light, humorous brand of self-deprecation instead of one that will just cause concern.]

I don't think I can really call that "getting through it". That makes me sound way too successful.

[Like...sure, he's here now, but he did very much die many times and have a full-on breakdown. But saying as much would probably just make Isabeau upset and worried, so Siffrin leaves it at that. Moving on!]

Do you want to head back, then? I mean, if you're tired...

Fair enough.

[He has some arguments about what Siffrin means by "too successful", but now is hardly the time to quibble that. It's easy to give them a pass when it's likely that they're both too exhausted to partake in any elaborate stories about how the loops went and what surviving them was like. There are way more important things to think about right now.]

Yeah, but before we go...

[Like bed. Just the thought of the mildly lumpy, slightly cold beds in the clock tower has his whole body feeling heavier, like those thoughts were the trigger that allowed him to really feel his physical fatigue, on top of all the mental fatigue. Buuuuut... there's just one more issue to tackle before they go.]

We need to hash out this whole sharing beds thing before we get there. [He allows a beat for that sentence to settle in.] Unless you'd rather do so within earshot of M'dame Odile and Bonnie.

[If there are four of them at the clock tower, sharing beds is inevitable. It's going to be Way Weird if one of the two that just became a couple asked Bonnie to share with them instead.]

[And here they thought they were home free. Siffrin curses internally and tries for a smile, but it's tinged with nervous energy.]

W-well, you said you're okay with it, and I'm okay with it, so...that seems pretty hashed out to me?

[Isabeau is wonderfully sensitive and open and mature about talking about feelings, which are all very good things, except in these moments when Siffrin really wishes he wasn't so they could escape it more easily.]

[He can see how he gets their nerves all riled up again and while he gets how awkward this is, he can't exactly feel bad about it. Siffrin was the one who brought this up in the first place! And it was smart of them. Isabeau will help carry this conversation to the finish line, even if they both have to hobble there.]

That's an easy out and we both know it. There was a reason you brought it up in the first place, right?

[He nudges his arm against theirs in the friendliest of jostles.]

So, talk to me. Tell me what you were worried about. And we can figure out something that'll at least let you be comfortable for tonight.

[The nudge jostles a bit of the tension out of them. Shoulders sagging, they glance up at Isabeau briefly before their gaze skitters away.]

I wouldn't really say I'm worried, or uncomfortable, or anything like that.

[It's true. For all their awkwardness and unease, discomfort isn't really part of the issue. They trust Isabeau completely. They know he'll do absolutely anything to make them comfortable.]

I just...don't want to take anything for granted, I guess? I don't wanna make any assumptions about what you'll be okay with.

[And they're kind of in a weird spot right now, teetering on an edge and not entirely sure which side they'll come down on. Like...are they a thing now? Is that just a given now, or something that will require more excruciatingly vulnerable talks? Siffrin did say they needed time to figure things out, so are things still 100% platonic until they make a decision?

The uncertainty isn't really about the sleeping situation specifically. It just highlights the ambiguity of their situation. Are things different now, or has nothing changed? Would it potentially hurt Isabeau to act like everything's the same as it's always been between them, or would it be worse to not act like normal?

Absently, he presses a nail against his lip, and only his gloves keep him from biting at it.]

I want you to be comfortable, too. And I'd get it if you feel differently about stuff like that now. If things are weird now or...y'know, whatever...

[They trail off and eventually cap the hanging statement with a shrug. He doesn't really know if he's communicating any of this well.]

Edited 2024-07-09 03:26 (UTC)

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