Siffrin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
start_again) wrote2024-06-14 10:15 pm
start_again) wrote2024-06-14 10:15 pm
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psl
[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.]
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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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.
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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.]
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I mean, yeah, I'm gonna feel differently about everything we do. [He folds his arms across his chest, leaning a little closer just from the shift in positions.] See, this is a little bit of what I meant with the whole "sledgehammer to the friendship" thing.
[They can't just carry on with everything being exactly the same. It's impossible to go back to that. They can only try to rebuild it, and the pieces will never fit together quite like they used to.]
You're gonna lay down next to me tonight knowing that it'd mean the world to me if you cuddled up in my arms and fell asleep there.
[He's already told Siffrin the hardest part, in his mind. It's easier to let the rest of the details spill out. Almost so much of a relief that he can't help himself.]
And I'm gonna have to be okay with the level of touch you'd rather have, because forcing anything further than that would make me a really awful person?
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Stars, Isabeau really does commit when he decides to change, huh? It's like the version of him that danced around this subject loop after loop never existed at all. It's almost enough for them to regret Isabeau finally just going for it. Only almost, of course, because waiting for Isa to just come out and say it was a special brand of torture sprinkled throughout timeloop hell and Siffrin has had more than enough of that, thanks. But Shameless Isabeau might also be a form of torture. Siffrin's heart might not be able to take this long-term.
They grip the top of their collar with both hands, pressing their face into it so hard it almost looks like he's trying to smother himself. Between Isabeau's height and the wide brim of his hat, hiding used to be so much easier. But hatless as they are now, the collar will have to do.
Slowly, they take a deep breath in, steeling themself.]
We can, uh...try that?
[He nearly loses his nerve halfway through, forcing the last bit out in a muffled squeak.]
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But saying that would be weird, and maybe a little patronizing, so he just smiles like they're his whole world instead. Which is. His usual smile, when he looks at them.]
Oh? Oh! Can we? [The instinctive urge to shout "yay!" really loud is just barely held back, by way of him reaching up to physically squeeze his own arm. Ow! It works though!] Okay! Okay, we'll try it.
[He releases his arm and dials his happiness back a tad, to add on a portion that will hopefully provide them both with a bit of guidance through this.] And, if you wanna stop, just tap my shoulder and scootch on out of my arms, and I promise you won't hurt my feelings.
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Yeah. I mean...I like hugging you. A-and cuddling is basically just that but laying down?
[His face burns to say it, but it's true, right? And cuddling is a thing that can be platonic, right? It's not like he's fully committing to anything here.
(Yeah, nope, still feels shitty. No matter how okay with it Isabeau says he is, Siffrin still can't help but feel like they're taking advantage of his feelings for their own experimentation and not giving him anything concrete in return.)
Wary of Isabeau picking up on their internal spiraling and mistaking it for something else, Siffrin swallows down the lump in their throat and takes Isabeau's hand before they can overthink it too much. Not that that really stops the overthinking from coming afterward anyway. How can it not? He feels just as manipulative as when he was in the loops, using knowledge gained in other timelines to know what to say and do to get the desired reactions. Where's the line between holding Isabeau's hand because they want to and doing it to make Isa behave the way they want? It's harder to differentiate than it really should be. The lines feel blurred, and they can't just ignore it, because if left unchecked they'll surely fall back into the same awful habits.
They close their eyes and try to stay in the moment. The sounds of raucous joy and relief in the distance, the warmth of Isabeau's hand, the security of knowing their plans to keep travelling together. Everything is fine.]
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Ha! Yeah, it pretty much is.
[Siffrin's expectations for cuddling help snuff out the fuse, a gentle reminder that reality is much slower than all that. Less rushing river and more steady creek. And as Siffrin tucks their hand into his, that sort of feels like his "cue" to wrap things up.]
That's tonight figured out. [He threads his fingers through his, palm pressed to leather, and shoots him an apologetic smile. Sorry. This'll be quick.] I know this doesn't perfectly resolve any of the stuff that you and I are worried about.
[His head isn't so far up in the clouds that he immediately forgot the conversation that lead up to this.]
Is it okay to figure it out as we go?
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Yeah, of course.
[His instinct, as ever, if to say sorry. It still feels appropriate, after all. His issues are an inconvenience at best and a landmine his friends have to tiptoe around at worst. But apologizing only ever seems to make them sadder, and there's already a tinge of that in Isabeau's smile.
With Isabeau's warm hand nearly engulfing theirs, though, it's a little easier to bite back the instinctual apology and try something new for once.]
...Thanks.
[They're grateful for the patience, and even more so for the fact that they now have all the time in the world to make use of it.]
[As expected, the bedding arrangements go as they usually do, except for Mirabelle's absence and the lack of a heroic final battle awaiting them in the morning. Odile takes one bed, and Bonnie is happy to sprawl out across another, leaving the last for the two of them. It feels so familiar, which makes it extra odd to think about the fact that that sleepover they did every loop never actually happened in this one.
(It's one of many, many sweet memories Siffrin prevented from ever happening by being awful and then running off on his own. He supposes those lonely memories and the guilt of their nonexistence is his punishment for said awfulness.)
Crazy and long as the day has been, everyone settles down to sleep pretty quickly. Siffrin takes his time getting ready for bed, purposefully dragging his feet and procrastinating until Odile and Bonnie are already in bed and turning the lights off. He doesn't want to face Odile's amused, knowing stare.
At least in the dark, with only the soft light of the moon and stars filtering in through the window, it's harder to see their blush as they climb into bed.
Stars, this is silly. They've literally done this hundreds of times before.]
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Him... and Sif. Who knows that he loves them. Who just a short walk ago expressed at least a mild interest in snuggling. Who, since then... has spent the entire time at the clock tower avoiding even looking at the bed.
Isabeau really should know better than to read too much into it. Yeah, Sif said earlier that they're exhausted. Yeah, they're still dealing with the after effects of craft overuse and could probably drop at any second, are so looking forward to true rest that they could sleep on a bed of glass. B-but. Sif is also a night owl! Prone to staying up into the wee hours of the morning and sleeping until noon unless roused! Surely it's that, and not that he'd somehow made a misstep with them between the conversation behind the boulangerie and now. Right?
...Isabeau drags a mental comb over their last conversation, picking through it for ways he could have been too pushy or too expectant. Did he agree too readily when Siffrin said they could try cuddling? Crab, maybe that was it? Or, Change, it could even be that he changed into his pajamas before bed. Is cuddling no longer on the menu now that he's in a tank top, and they just don't know how to say it? Or maybe it's nothing, and all this worrying will be the thing that does them both in today. Urgh. And how will he even ask about it? Both Odile and Bonnie have already passed out, and there will be hell to pay if he wakes either of them after the day everyone has had.
The lights have dimmed, and Isabeau is lightly dozing in the stew of his own worries by the time he feels the mattress shift to his right, creaking under the weight of his bed buddy shifting under the covers with him. He stirs with a short but sudden intake of breath, a small jolt that relents to sleepy contentment as he turns to face them. For all that he stresses over things, Siffrin is still something of a stabilizer for him (at least, when they aren't both getting into trouble On Purpose).]
Hey, there you are.
[...Ah. No barriers eh, self? He's just gonna straight up let them know he's been waiting for them this whole time? Cool. Cool. Can't take it back now. Managed to whisper, so that's a point in his favor.]
Something bugging you?
[He can at least do them the kindness of not assuming it must have something to do with him.]
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They hurriedly slide under the covers, trying for a reassuring, wry smile.]
Nah, I just didn't want to deal with...y'know.
[Siffrin gestures vaguely in the direction of the other beds and their occupants. Of course, they will have to deal with it come the morning regardless, unless they wake up early enough to flee the bed before the others get up. Which is admittedly a little tempting. But Siffrin knows it won't happen. Exhausted as they feel, they'll probably be out cold for like twelve hours straight.
That's a later problem, though, and for now they care more about avoiding another stupid misunderstanding, so they scoot closer as they lay down.]
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Fair enough.
[Cute, too. Isabeau supposes... he'd never considered it. He was always careful not to talk about his feelings for Siffrin around Mirabelle (respectfully, she never seemed to like the concept of romance outside of fiction), but Odile basically already has all the details, and... it's kind of impossible to not be embarrassing around preteens, so Bonnie almost doesn't count? As someone to avoid? He can make a mental note to be more subtle for Siffrin's sake, though. Easy peasy.
Nerves adequately soothed, he opens his arms for them as they scoot closer, guiding them to rest against him in a way that won't squish his arm under them (he's a big guy, this is just the position he has the most practice with). He's maybe a little precious about it. He really wants to make sure they're not awkwardly laying around a big arm, or pressed so close they can't breathe, etc etc. And as he drapes his arm over them, pulling the sheets and blankets up with him, he checks in.]
Comfy?
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The smile wavers a bit as they slide in and are immediately faced with the minor inconvenience of figuring out how this works. "Hugging while laying down" sounded easy enough in theory, but in practice there's questions of what to do with his lower arm and how to lay down in a way that won't be uncomfortable for Isabeau either. Who knew cuddling was so involved!
Eventually, he figures it out with Isa's quiet guidance, which at least helps soothe his nerves a little. Even more effective at that is Isabeau's massive arm wrapping around them and practically tucking them in.]
Y-yeah.
[Siffrin feels awkward through the whole settling process. Their stiffness fades slowly, and it's like nothing so much as melting, their tiny body relaxing bit by bit into Isabeau until they carefully wind an arm around his waist and tuck themself in closer. It's the warmest they've ever felt in this bed. In their whole life, maybe. The thought leaves his throat feeling tight and his eye hot.]
You can just, uh...move me, if you get uncomfortable. I don't think anything short of the clocktower collapsing will wake me up after today.
[After the last several months of todays, really.]
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Having an arm settle around his waist in turn is his own sign to relax, and Isabeau sinks so thoroughly into Siffrin's warmth, and the bed, that he's liable to fall through it, despite that being physically impossible. He's so happy, he could surely find a way. He's so happy, it's a good thing he's also completely drained of energy by this point, or he might be too giddy to fall asleep.]
Sure. Would be easy enough to move you.
[His mumble of a reply is placid warmth, whispered close enough that he can see the way his breath flutters through their bangs. Lashes lower in thought, and he gradually lifts his hand from Siffrin's back, reaching up to brush those bangs aside, tucking bright hair behind his ear. He's so pretty. Isabeau won't say that. He won't kiss their forehead like he wants to either, opting to stare for just a moment, perhaps a bit too longingly, before returning his hand to their back.]
You can sleep as late as you want. I think we all will.
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I can't be that light. It's pretty dark in here, after all.
[The stupidity of the joke is tempered by the weariness in his voice. Not that Isa would ever mind a stupid joke regardless.
This could almost pass for a normal night on their journey, albeit with a bit more snuggling. Whispered puns, trying to make Isabeau laugh loud enough to disturb the others and earn their retribution, dragging out that time with all their friends just a little longer before sleep took them. If Siffrin wasn't such a mess, maybe it'd have been just like this all along, curling up together for warmth on the nights they were stuck sleeping in a tent in too-cold weather, faces close to more easily speak softly...
And then Isabeau's hand brushes their bangs back, carefully, gently, and Siffrin is struck by the softness in that gaze. He is loved, and not just in the way all of them love him. He can't help but wonder how he missed it their whole journey, how he ever doubted it in the timeloop.
Stars, he's an idiot, isn't he?
Drawing a slightly shaky breath, he presses in closer and tucks his face against Isabeau's shoulder. He'd done as much while upright earlier, but there's no fabric in the way this time. Isa's skin feels hot against his forehead.]
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He still has to quickly turn his head, squeezing Sif tighter on instinct as he buries his laughter into his pillow. For all that he loves their bad jokes, that one was dropped cold, no build up, and he only has so much time to muffle the noise that threatened to burst forth. The poor mattress beneath them absorbs it, mildly jostled by his mirth.]
Siiiif, you gotta warn a guy first before you do that.
[He lifts his head a bit, taking a quick scan of the room. If he concentrates, he can hear Bonnie snoring away in their bed. Odile is quieter and prone to staying still the whole night, but she doesn't look like she's awake...]
...Think we're safe.
[He sinks back down, to the pressure of a face burying itself in his shoulder and warmth curling ever closer to him. Their place to hide, should they so choose. He really... didn't think he'd get even this much. Hopefully, Siffrin won't mind the way he still stops to marvel at every new interaction, every centimeter of further closeness, like they're each their own tiny little miracle. He tips his head to meet them, daring to take that chance to nuzzle his cheek into their hair. It is exactly as fluffy and unkempt as it has always looked. Comfy...]
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[It's still so deeply satisfying to make Isabeau laugh with the dumbest jokes. Even more so with the way it makes those arms squeeze them tighter.
This close, they can smell Isa so clearly. It's mostly a sweaty kind of smell, which is a little gross, but they're happy regardless, and they're rewarded for that closeness with Isa's face buried in their hair. They haven't so much as brushed it in what feels like forever, so they suppose that makes them even in terms of grossness.]
...Hey, would you, um...want to help me with my hair in the morning?
[It feels silly and selfish to ask. Surely it's more of a chore than something anyone would actually enjoy doing. But he remembers Mirabelle asking to comb his hair and seeming so happy about it, and someone gasping and cursing in the background when he agreed like it was something special they missed out on. Laying like this, with Isabeau practically using them him as a teddy bear and nothing said louder than a whisper, Siffrin feels brave enough to just ask.]
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...Okay that's putting it a little dramatically, but. Isabeau still gasps real loud, immediately tenses up from how loud that was, and waits an excruciating ten seconds in silence to make sure his big mouth didn't commit any cardinal sins. Mutual destruction seemingly averted, he lets out a very slow, very silent whoosh of breath.]
I would love that.
[He could wax poetic about how much he'd love that, but he's honestly not much of a poet. What he is, is one half of the party's resident skin and hair care duo, so Siffrin has absolutely come to the right place in their search to "tress for success." Now with a mission in mind, the way Isabeau trails his fingers through their hair is much more purposeful this time, nails tracing across their scalp and fingers dancing out of the way of formed knots as he feels and observes.]
Mhm, I think I know exactly what your hair needs. A little TLC and we could really get your hair to glow.
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Well. Hypothesis confirmed?
Something about the attention is a little embarrassing, even with no one else awake to witness it. Siffrin's cheeks warm with it. But the nails gently scraping his scalp feel nice, so it's fine.]
You don't have to go crazy or anything.
[Isabeau sounds happy to do it, sure, but it feels like an imposition either way.
And it still feels sorta...manipulative. He wouldn't have asked if not for that knowledge picked up in the loops suggesting it'd be received well. Maybe it's that guilt that prompts him to continue, whispering against Isabeau's shirt.]
There was just...this one time, in the loops, Mira asked to comb it. And you seemed, uh...jealous?
[It sounds a little ridiculous now that he says it. Like, obviously. It's still hard for him to wrap his head around Isabeau's feelings for him, let alone the sheer depth of them, but he at least believes it now. And if he's accepting that as a fact, then it sounds less like he's grappling with an uncertainty and more like he's just calling Isabeau out. Whoops.]
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What? Of course I have to go crazy. I've been wanting to go crazy on your hair for months. But saying so would have been really crabbing rude of me, so I've been waiting. For either an opportunity, or an invitation.
[It has all the right characteristics to be sooooo fluffy and soooooooooooooo luxurious. Like there aren't enough vowels in the alphabet to properly convey just how so those things it could be. But Sif is the roll out of bed type! Give it a quick few swipes of a brush and they're good to go! It has been equal parts adorable and infuriating to watch during their journey. He and Mira might have privately commiserated over it once. Which... makes Siffrin's followup both perfectly understandable, and also incredibly embarrassing.]
I... I did?
[He seemed jealous? That's so pathetic yet so instantly believable, that he can't do much more other than flush bright and curl in on himself, burying fresh embarrassment into the darkless hair his hands just abandoned. Mira beat him to the punch of asking Sif about combing their hair? Got to straighten out all those knots and errant flyaways, in a way that was probably very relaxing and comforting and pleasant? Change. Of course he got jealous. Of course it was so obvious that even Siffrin noticed. He's not exactly a subtle guy! Never has been! He muffles a quiet groan into his hair and braces himself.]
Give it to me straight, Sif. How bad was it?
[The jealousy, not the hair combing. That was probably super nice and he almost doesn't want to know, because he. He... is just maybe a little bit of the jealous type. Even though he really tries his best not to be.]
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Isabeau's obvious embarrassment does make Siffrin feel a bit bad, but...at the same time, it's endearing. And a little funny. They huff a breath of soft laughter into the pillow.]
If it makes you feel any better, I didn't realize at the time.
[Does that make it better? That Siffrin was that oblivious to his feelings? They wince a little considering it.]
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A little. [He would certainly have been spared the worst in the moment, if Sif didn't realize it. But... most likely, he was very obvious to the rest of their friends. A shame his past-timeloop-self will never live down.] And, I guess, if you're laughing about it now, then it couldn't have been too bad for you at the time.
[Or so he hopes. He gives himself more than half a second to ruminate on that one.]
...It wasn't, right? I'm sorry if it actually was super awkward and awful for you once you realized.
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[Doubtlessly there will be many similar revelations in the coming days, past interactions that they revisit in a new light and realize just how incredibly dense they've been.
Part of them wants to apologize in return. Sorry for not realizing sooner or something like that. But that's almost like calling Isabeau extremely obvious about it all right to his face, so Siffrin swallows the impulse down.
They're quiet for a moment, fingers absently toying with the fabric of Isabeau's sleep shirt.]
...You don't mind me talking about it? The loops? Mira didn't wanna hear it. "Spoilers" and all that.
[He's torn, honestly. He doesn't want to burden them all with this shit – the stuff he went through, details about themselves they haven't shared or didn't even realize yet, the discomfort of someone knowing more about them than they should. They're not stupid, obviously they know that's all a thing. It's just probably easier for them to not dwell on it if he just keeps his mouth shut.
But at the same time, they have a right to know what he knows, don't they? And more than anything, Siffrin just...wants to share these memories with someone. It's lonely, having shared all these moments with all of them and being the only one to remember any of them. It's just his luck that the experiences they actually had in the end were the worst possible ones. And there's no way to make any of it "real" anymore. All he can do is deal with it on his own, or share in the more traditional sense.
But only if they're okay with it.]
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[The conversation lapses and Isabeau is content to let it. Is about to suggest that, perhaps, if Sif likes what he does with their hair tomorrow, maybe he could do that for them more than once? But he feels a tug on his stomach, gaze drifting to find fingers fidgeting with his night shirt, and the sight gives him pause. Out of fondness mostly, but consideration, too. He's noticed that Sif does this when they're thinking, or overthinking. Fussing with their gloves, their cloak, pinching and rubbing fabric between fingers. It's kinda nice that he can add his shirt to that list. Like they're a little bit more comfortable with him.]
Spoilers? I guess I can see what she means, but...
[Nah. Couldn't be him. Not only is the curiosity eating him alive, he couldn't stand to leave Siffrin alone with what they went through. He doesn't just want to empathize with what being trapped in time was like; he wants to understand it.]
I want you to tell me everything.
[Every detail that Siffrin can remember, and even the details he only half remembers. Isabeau couldn't be there to walk that journey with Sif hand in hand, so he'll be their confidant in the aftermath, however messy that ends up being. He doesn't want anything less.]
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They really, really love him. Whatever other doubts there may be, at least that much is true.
A soft smile spreading across their face, they duck their head back down to return to that favorite little nook against Isabeau's shoulder, exhaling a contented breath.]
You told me a lot of things. About your Change, and what you used to be like, and what you want to do from here on out...
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There was time for all that?
[He doesn't ask like he doubts it. It's more the surprise that's hitting him, slowly realizing that those conversations must have spanned loops, because the space between two of the exact same days isn't enough time to say all that. Not when there's a House to climb and a King to fight. The mystery deepens... he nudges his face back into their hair, resting his cheek atop their head.]
How much did I tell you? I've been trying to find a way to talk to you about Changing for ages, but the timing was never...
[It was never perfect. He's always been waiting for perfect, content to let "good enough" slip by so many times. But Siffrin knows that much, doesn't he?]
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THEIR DYNAMAXING,
IDK WHAT ELSE TO CALL IT
NO IT'S PERFECT
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