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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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[He has some ideas. The gears in his mind are turning, happy for something pointless and funny to focus on after the emotional disaster the last forty-eight hours were. Isabeau commits to them, offering Siffrin his very best imitation of their innocent smile.]

...Guess you'll find out.

[Come on! Siffrin already has several advantages; he's not gonna give them even more!]

Boooo.

[They don't actually sound all that upset. It wouldn't be fun if it was too easy, after all.

But with that settled, and the threat of getting kicked out of bed staving off the urge to sneak in an extra surprise poke, Siffrin exhales, relaxing into the embrace of Isabeau's arms and some moderately decent pillows. The former is probably the only thing preventing anxiety right now. Without it, this scene might feel a bit too much like one he'd played out again and again and again. He can lean into the warmth of another person and think See? It's different. It's a new night.

Half to reassure Isabeau that this night's battle is done for now, and half for their own clinginess, Siffrin's hand tentatively slides from Isa's side around to his back. It's a position that forces them closer, but they don't imagine Isa will mind.]

[He lets out a louder sigh of relief than he would have liked when Siffrin wraps an arm further around him, the situation seemingly settled. Whew! No more secret pokes for the night. He was really worried they'd be too much of a gremlin to heed his warnings. Further gremlin-ing can happen tomorrow, after they've all had a good ten to twelve hours of dead sleep. If not for their current conversation he imagines he'd already be there, snoring away like usual, and as anticipation simmers he can feel the return of that exhaustion. It tugs at the corners of his eyelids. Blurs his vision. He relents, letting that fatigue pull them shut.]

Sif...

[His words are already somewhat sluggish, and the space he leaves between for an answer drags on a hair too long. But it's important. Something he feels he didn't say at the start of this particular tangent.]

Tell me more about the loops, sometime.

[It's unfair, phrasing it in a way that implies refusal isn't part of the equation. But they should talk about everything they went through. And if Siffrin doesn't have the strength to tell the whole party right away, then Isabeau selfishly hopes it'll be him they come to about it first. He'd love to be that for them, in a way that really matters for once.]

[It's been a rough day and everyone deserves a reprieve from gremlin-ing. Gremlin mode can resume at full power in the morning. Y'know, if Siffrin is in the mood for it. He's felt all over the place today, even only counting the time since officially escaping the loops. One moment he couldn't be happier, secure in the knowledge that he is loved, and the next he's anxious and tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop, certain that he'll manage to fuck it all up again.

But none of that right now. He's too tired to dwell and spiral. The request is oddly comforting, a balm on the raw open wound that is his heart. Sleepily, Siffrin just nods against Isabeau's chest, making a soft sound of agreement as he begins to drift off.]

[That gentle nod was all he needed. Appreciation for their willingness to try wraps itself around the last of his will to stay awake, a ribbon that ties itself into a cute little bow and drags his waning energy into a comforting abyss. It is going to be sooooo nice to not think about anything for the next several hours.]

...G'night, Sif.

[His grip loosens, his arm becoming less of a hold and more of a weight against their body. Soft snoring follows, a sign that he is well and truly out.

(...)

For Isabeau, time passes without further recognition. His brain is too tired to dream, too knocked out to be roused, even by the usual suspects- friends shifting out of their beds, birdsong, sunlight. It’s a good thing that the clock tower didn’t actually collapse overnight or anything. Such a disaster likely would have claimed all four of them.

Fortunately, the night’s only disaster seems to be that he slept way past mid-morning. Siffrin is still conked out, practically right where he left them last night. And a quick peek around the room tells him that… Bonnie is still asleep, too. Odile appears to have risen at some point, because her bed is empty and the room lacks her presence entirely. She must have stepped out. Isabeau lets his head drop back down on the pillow with a quiet huff of leftover fatigue, immediately wincing at how stiff his neck feels. Been awhile since he’s slept this hard. It’s gonna take ages to stretch all that back out...

A problem for future-Isabeau to contend with. Present-Isabeau still has a bundle of warmth wrapped up in his arms, and that bright form would likely be content to lay there through the afternoon, if Siffrin’s previous sleeping habits are anything to go by. Isabeau seriously debates letting him. Their group is due to get back on the road today, sure, but he bets Mirabelle isn’t all that eager to rush out of Dormont. And if they’re not going to leave until this afternoon anyway, why not let their resident time traveler get a little more R n’ R? After a truly ridiculous amount of Craft overuse, they probably need all the rest they can get.

Content with that line of thought, Isabeau nestles back down, realizing just a moment later that if he wants to let them sleep a little longer... he might have to resign himself to not moving either. Because. Siffrin is still laying on his arm, and moving them so he can reclaim it might wake them up? That would be terrible... They probably need this extra sleep so badly... Woe...

His smile is entirely too fond as he resettles his arm around their back, absentmindedly toying with the lightless ends of their hair as he watches them sleep.]

Edited (fastforward! vroom!) 2024-07-22 04:18 (UTC)

[It's true that Siffrin needed the sleep. Not physically – though that's certainly a part of it, after their Craft overuse and dynamaxing and all that – but mentally, they'd been sleep-deprived for the equivalent of months. Nights at the clocktowers had ceased to be restful long ago, and oftentimes Siffrin had more waited than actually slept. The best rest he got was between loops, but that was always so short-lived.

He's not sure what time it is when he finally comes to consciousness. He doesn't open his eyes right away, but it's obvious when he wakes up from the way he stiffens in realization of his current position and then slowly relaxes again. Right, it's all over, this is a new day for the first time in far too long, and Isabeau is holding them because he loves them.

Selfishly, he feigns sleep a little longer. It's the most comfortable position he's ever woken up in, and the temptation to just revel in it and lay here quietly for hours longer nearly overpowers the fear that Isabeau would get sick of them laying on him eventually. What finally shakes them from their cozy reverie is remembering that they weren't alone in this room.

They lift their head a little, twisting to look behind them at the other beds, vainly hoping the others would still be asleep. Bonnie doesn't disappoint, but of course Odile's bed is empty. He'd hope maybe their friends just didn't notice the canoodling in their early morning grogginess, but he knows that's a pointless wish. Odile notices everything.

Doubtlessly, she'll poke fun later. Lovingly, of course, but that doesn't make it less embarrassing. Maybe he should play up his emotional fragility to stave off the teasing for a while.

Biting back a sigh, lest he worry Isabeau, he turns around to flop back down into the pillow.]

Where's Odile?

[Alas! Sweet moments like these are so short-lived. He barely had a few minutes to himself before Siffrin was rolling around, scooting about, lifting and checking and flopping back down. He arcs an eyebrow at that question, amused at the way they blow right past saying "good morning" (not uncommon), and he remembers. Right, Siffrin dawdled before going to bed last night, didn't he? In an attempt to stave off the others seeing them displaying affection. Cute, but it's only delaying the inevitable.]

No point worrying about her, y'know. She already caught us "canoodling" yesterday. The teasing would have commenced whether she saw us this morning or not.

[That's just how it's going to be! But, maybe he's being a bit unfair. Odile has already relentlessly teased him for all his hangups over his growing feelings and inability to confess. He's used to it. This will be new for poor Sif.]

Knowing her, she's probably already shopping for the next round of supplies and planning our route to Bambouche.

[Siffrin is not like Isabeau the Jock, who probably regularly gets up at unholy hours to train or whatever. They like their sleep, and they are not pulled from it easily. The grogginess fades slowly, awareness returning bit by bit. Isabeau was awake already, still wrapped around them and with a hand in their hair. Just waiting for them to wake up, apparently. There's a little surge of guilt, wondering how long Isa's been stuck waiting for them to get up, but he doesn't seem to mind...

Stars, their face is probably an incredibly embarrassing shade. Siffrin turns his face into the pillow to hide it for a moment while he collects himself. Please allow him at least an attempt at starting the day with some dignity.]

I'm not worrying. Just...y'know, wondering.

[It's obviously a lie, especially given the way he pushes himself to get up before she returns regardless. Granted, "pushes" is doing a lot of work in that sentence, because it's a slow process either way. He rolls over onto his back, grimacing at the chill that rushes in to replace Isabeau's warmth, and then lays there for another minute or so willing himself to sit up before actually managing it.]

[Yeah, that's not even remotely believable. But Isabeau has already said his piece on the matter, and sees no reason to further ruffle Siffrin's feathers over it. They'll be enduring enough teasing from the others sooner or later. He'd rather pile on with them; it's more fun that way!

He, with almost equal reluctance, sits up as Siffrin rolls off him. If they're out of his arms, then it's definitely time to stop delaying the inevitable and just get out of bed already. It's easier to get moving once he's standing, letting habit take over as he falls into his usual morning stretches. Back stretches, toe touches, side bends... He's through his routine by the time Siffrin is even able to sit up, and he reaches over. Hesitates. Remembers that it's okay, and pats their shoulder in what he hopes is a comforting way and not a suddenly weird way. Old habits are hard to break!]

Well, while you're still just "wondering," I don't think you have to rush too much. Bonbon's still out, so you can at least sleep as long as they do, if you want.

[Siffrin doesn't want to be a creep. But it's hard to not peek at Isabeau as he goes through his morning routine. It's nothing he hasn't done countless times over the course of their journey – even just throughout the timeloop, every morning they woke up here – but it feels like they're seeing it with a new eye. Isabeau is just objectively attractive. It's clearer than ever like this, still in his sleep shirt with those arms on full display. Not for the first time, Siffrin wonders how the hell someone like this loves someone like him in that way. Isa could do so much better, couldn't he? Isn't he wasted on someone like them, who can't even appreciate that body in the way normal people would?

They try to see it from that perspective. Which probably is just creepier, leering with the full intent of objectification. But for better or worse, it doesn't work. They can't wrap their head around it. There's no burning fire in their gut urging them to do things, to touch in that specific way and imagine the ways those muscles could be put to use. Even trying just makes them feel skeevy.

But without that, how are they supposed to tell if what they feel is the right kind of love? If that's something they learned growing up, then it was lost with everything else about their childhood. When they tried kissing him that one time, was it because they wanted to, or was it just wanting to rip the bandaid off?

He still doesn't know.

Dwelling on it is more stress than he really needs this early, though, and Isabeau is looking at him again, so he banishes the thought.

And then there's that hand thing again, so much like every time outby the Favor Tree. That hesitation drops Siffrin's heart to the pit of his stomach, if only for a moment. It's an immediate relief when Isabeau pushes through it and touches their shoulder like he'd tried to do so many times before, and they automatically reach up to catch his hand and hold it there for a moment. Their stiffness remains, but the last thing they want is for Isabeau to mistake that for discomfort and pull back.

Embarrassingly, doing so makes their breath hitch a little. Siffrin doesn't wear his gloves to sleep, obviously. The contact hits a little different like this, skin to skin. He'd told himself that his stupid little touch therapy experiments were sufficient for staving off insanity, that through clothing was good enough, but feeling the warmth of skin directly against his own, he thinks it's no wonder he lost his mind a little.

They can't look Isabeau in the eye, but they give his hand a gentle squeeze.]

It's fine. I'm up.

[Oh, he absolutely lights up when Siffrin takes his hand like that. So proactive! And his hand is so warm without the glove in the way! He's smiling and he's embarrassed and that's so okay, actually. He's so okay with that. Being embarrassed is nice, when it's like this.]

If you're sure.

[He flips his hand over so he can pull theirs into his, fingers brushing along their wrist as he folds that smaller hand into his bigger grip. And after spending a moment just... quietly enjoying that little bit of contact, with this fond look on his face as he stares down at the link formed between them, he carries on like there was no pause in the conversation.]

I saw you watching me stretch earlier, by the way. Were you interested?

[It was kind of hard to miss. He's been clued into Siffrin's movements for ages now. How was he supposed to not notice a set of eyes on him, eyes that remained glued there for several minutes? But Siffrin was very clear when they spelled out for him just how much they do not, under any circumstances, want to "do stuff", last night. So Isabeau isn't thinking about that at all; he's put the concept of any attraction on their part completely aside. It doesn't even occur to him. No, what he's wondering is if that staring means they want to...]

In joining me for morning stretches, I mean. [Obviously! And man, that would be so cool, actually. They could be stretch buddies!] You should! It's important to keep your body limber!

[He turns over the hand he's holding again, grasping it with both his own this time, so he can trace the lines on Siffrin's palm. He's very deft with his knife, but if he wants to make sure that deftness carries over to later in life...]

I can teach you some really good ones for your hands. Keep you from getting crinkly fingers in your forties.

[The gentle way Isabeau take their hand does make something flutter in their chest, like some kind of insect crawled down their throat while they were asleep and just started flying around. But they're quickly distracted from analyzing that any further, because–

Ah.

Oh stars. That question very nearly kills Siffrin on the spot. It might have if not for the follow-up, which gives him an out that he jumps on immediately without even thinking about it.]

Yes! Yes that is exactly it.

[ haha oh no....what has he agreed to.... ]

Should we invite the others too? Or is it too late for Odile's crinkly fingers?

[This would be the most unfortunate moment for Odile to walk back in.]

[Fortunately for everyone involved, Odile does not reappear in time to hear Siffrin disparage her old lady fingers. They just went through one world-ending event yesterday, there is no need to invoke another. Isabeau, smartly, chooses to focus on the first half of their response.]

We should! I'm surprised you agreed so readily, but I am not going to question it.

[They expressed interest! It's too late to take it back now! Isabeau has them in his metaphorically buff clutches and he will not be letting go.]

Both Madame Odile and Mira have turned me down in the past, but I think if it's the two of us asking, we'll have a better shot.

[And honestly, it really will be good for all of them! It's never too late to incorporate some morning stretches into one's daily schedule. Good for the body, good for the soul.]

Maybe we can pitch it as the family yoga session, or something.

[Oh good, Sif gets to live to see another day.]

I could use the change of pace, I guess.

[Thank you for not questioning it. Their heart cannot deal with that kind of embarrassment this early in the morning, especially not while trying to keep relatively quiet so as to not wake Bonnie. Enough momenta have already been ruined by a pillow chucked at Isabeau's face, even if Isa himself can't remember any of them.

Their eyes drift downward, watching Isabeau's fingers as they absently trace the lines of their palm.]

I can probably weaponize all the timeloop trauma. They can't turn me down if I'm all sad and fragile and lonely, right?

[There's a slightly bitter, dry edge to his smile, but hey, at least he's trying to have a sense of humor about it, right?]

[He watches as their gaze dips, and mood gradually dips with it. There's something in that smile he really doesn't like. The words that follow confirm the pit that forms in his stomach.]

Sif. [He reaffirms his grip on their hand.] None of us would want to hear you say that, no.

[Not while they look like that, anyway. Madame Odile probably would have found it funny if Siffrin managed to joke about it in a way that was genuine.]

[Oh no, he's spoiling the mood. Siffrin reinforces his smile, carrying on brightly like Isabeau isn't giving him that soft, concerned look.]

Right? So they'd definitely agree!

[The joke didn't land, now he has to pretend he's totally normal about the joke not landing. Siffrin chooses to handle that by just...quickly changing the subject.]

Did you want to help me with my hair now, or after breakfast?

[Does he feel a lil bad about effectively waving the haircare date in front of Isabeau like a shiny set of keys to distract him? Yes, but he's doing it anyway.]

[Oooooff, this smile is actually so much worse. At least the last one was honest, even if its bitterness churned his stomach a bit. His eyebrows only arch further in worry when Siffrin quickly blows past that failure of a joke to move the day along, and the feeling Isabeau gets in trying to parse all that is... one he can't quite place. But it's uncomfortable. He mulls over that offer for probably a bit too long, and then. He nods.]

...Actually, now would be a great time for our haircare date.

[Isabeau is not subtle. His tone is 100%, "we are not done having this discussion" flavored. But he does smile, and he does grab his bag.]

Let's head down to the lower level and let Bonnie get their rest.

[Nnnope, Siffrin is choosing to play oblivious. What discussion? They're just having some lighthearted early morning banter, that's all. He smiles again, gathering up his stuff and following Isabeau downstairs. They're the only ones staying in the clocktower, so they can get changed just as easily on the lower floor.

It probably says a lot about their respective morning routines that Siffrin's bag is much lighter than Isabeau's. What do they really need, after all? A change of clothes, a toothbrush... They don't think they even own a brush, honestly. They've just been occasionally borrowing Isabeau's for most of the journey. And before that...well, there was a reason their hair used to be shorter. Experimenting with dye in order to stand out less was about as much as they'd ever bothered dealing with their hair at all.

With that thought in mind as they move downstairs, Siffrin absently fingers the lightless ends of his hair, frowning a little at the texture of it.]

...Do you think I should cut my hair?

[...How to best address this...

Siffrin is still very affected by their time in the loops. Like. That goes without saying. It doesn't even need to be seen or noticed; it would be obvious to anyone who has even an iota of experience with anything traumatic. Sif was also already kind of avoidant when it came to his problems, even before many tens of dozens of yesterdays happened. Isabeau can easily imagine that's gotten worse, though he doesn't want to just assume as much without proof. The idea of it does make him more hesitant to address this firmly, though. Hmm...]

Huh? Cut your hair?

[Ack! Caught off guard! He's shaken from his thoughts, turning instead to look Siffrin over as he starts pulling supplies out of his bag. A detangling comb, a fluffing brush, a light hair oil...]

Why would you cut it? It's so fluffy and pretty!

[Oh, he wasn't expecting that reaction. Siffrin raises his hands to wave off the concern.]

Not all of it! Just to get rid of the part that still has dye in it. That part's not even that soft anyway.

[There are probably ways to dye one's hair and keep it nice and healthy, especially when you're just going darker and don't even need to bleach it. But this is Siffrin, so shit was definitely not done in the best way.

Setting his stuff down, he debates briefly on whether to change first. But Isabeau has bottles of some kind of liquid out, so maybe this will be a messier process than anticipated?? Maybe he'll hold off on getting dressed....]

Ohhhhh.

[Phew! He places a hand over his chest, like he just barely managed to avert a very serious crisis.]

I mean, I think we're all probably due for a trim after months of hair neglect in the name of saving the country.

[Everything out and set, he pulls a chair out from under the table and faces it away from himself. He then lifts a hand to wave Sif over, tapping the chair to indicate that they should sit their butt in it.]

What made you think of it, anyway?

[Isabeau absolutely does not want them to ever cut all their hair super short. Noted.....

Siffrin shrugs as he takes the offered seat. He toys with the ends of his bangs where it's already free of dye, just absently comparing it. It is kind of soft, he guesses? He's just never really given his own appearance much thought. Even the dye had only come about because too many strangers had commented on the unusually bright shade of his hair and it was making him self-conscious.

But that feels almost like a betrayal, now. This hair shade is one of the few things that ties him to home. He doesn't want to taint it anymore, no matter how out of place it makes him look. As long as he's with his family, he won't care what anyone else thinks.]

Nothing special, really. Just...thinking about my hair, since we're messing with it now?

[It's true enough.]

[His excitement over this is tempered some by the fact that he's got some important things to address with them, but tempered sure isn't the same thing as gone! Giddiness traipses its delight through skittish fingertips as he picks up the comb and starts to slowly and gently work it through Siffrin's hair.]

And you thought you wanted to get rid of the lightless parts specifically?

[The way Sif said that was pretty particular, right? His nerves ease out as methodical movement works its usual magic on him. Bottom to top, left to right, he nudges his way through the knots that form without ever tugging too hard or too fast. And as he progresses, their natural fluff and waviness begins to shine through.]

[Siffrin steels himself for this to hurt, but...the pain never comes. Huh. Whenever he tries to run a brush through it, it's an unpleasant process. Which is part of why he doesn't bother much, which...probably exacerbates the problem. Exhaling slowly, he relaxes into the seat.]

I mean, it looks pretty awful when it's this grown-out, doesn't it? And I clearly can't be trusted to keep up with it.

[This is also true. Even if he loved the shade, would he manage consistent enough maintenance to keep it looking good? Absolutely not.]

[Seeing those shoulders sag in relaxation is the greatest reward he could ever receive from something like this. Second place would be liking the work he does, but even if Sif is ambivalent on that front, he's happy just for the chance to pamper them. They deserve it! He starts tracing his fingers through the different layers of their hair as he combs it, working his way around to the back.]

I don't think it looks awful. There are some hairstyles that purposely dye the tips, and yours has grown out for so long that it pretty much looks like that now.

[He huffs an amused breath.] And if you don't wanna keep up with your hair anymore, trim or not, you can just let me take care of it from now on.

[He got to ask! And it was fairly natural! Score.]

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THEIR DYNAMAXING,

IDK WHAT ELSE TO CALL IT

NO IT'S PERFECT

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