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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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[Just when he was starting to recover from the first pun, Siffrin hits him with the next and he's doubling over with laughter again. He is the fashionable one! That's like, his whole thing! It's sort of weird to think that Siffrin knows more about that than he remembers telling them? Isabeau really wants to quiz them on everything "he" ""discussed"" with them before, if only to try and clear out some of the haze in his mind, trying to wrap it around the concept of time being broken for a little while. But that's low on his priority list. Certainly lower than making sure Siffrin can at least end the night with a smile on his face, even if it's just another one of the tired ones he's showing Isabeau now.]

I can always count on you for a good laugh. After all...

[He looks up to the boulangerie behind them. Takes in the faint scent of rising dough, the owner most likely baking a fresh batch of bread for a party that clearly intends to last through the night. He nods resolutely. He knows just what to say.]

...Your puns are never half-baked.

[There! He can do the funnyjokesthing, too! And he can also laugh at his own jokes, because he is kind of pathetic in that way. Doing his best to stifle the next few giggles, he carries on with the conversation.]

Wrapping up a compliment in a pun was very well played, by the way! You are raising my expectations for future flirting sessions.

[He is so unbelievably joking. If there is one thing he's sure is now obvious about him, it's that his standards when it comes to Siffrin are below sea level.]

[They snicker at the fairly solid pun. But the snicker abruptly turns into a strangled choking sound, eye blowing open wide.]

F-flir–?!

[Siffrin stops himself before the squawk of surprise fully escapes. After all, historically? His surprised reactions have just convinced everyone that he was uncomfortable, and that's not...it, exactly. He's just...taken aback, suddenly and rapidly looking back over all their past interactions with new eyes.

Is that what they're doing? Flirting?? His face heats a little and he buries his face in his collar to hide it. Maybe Isabeau won't notice between that and the dim lighting? Stars, he hopes so.

He should make another joke quickly to keep things casual and fun. But would that too be flirting? Does it count if they weren't even aware they were doing it? It seems like something that should only be possible with intent, but hell, with all they've forgotten, maybe this is normal and they've just been oblivious all along. Obliviously flirting. A lot? Is that why Isa liked them?? Granted, Isabeau had explained in great detail a number of reasons he liked them – which is still a little embarrassing to think about – but somehow Siffrin still can't help but wonder if they were indirectly responsible. It does feel nice to be liked, doesn't it? Maybe Isabeau was just drawn in by what seemed like interest on their part. Maybe they were only considering it because Isa's attention stoked their ego, because it's easy, affection being offered up on a silver platter with no real effort on their part.

Honestly, they want to give Isabeau an answer one way or another quickly. It feels shitty to just leave him hanging. But every time their mind has approached the subject in the hours since finishing everything at the House, it quickly stumbles into a rabbit hole. How does one even figure that out? What if they figure it wrong and hurt Isa in the end? Should they even be considering it in the first place when Isa could easily do better? Is it selfish to take advantage of that foolish, illogical attraction?

Siffrin recoils from the dark direction of those thoughts, clearing his throat like his outburst had just been a phantom mouthful of food going down the wrong pipe.]

...You know me. [~~Does he?~~] Always raising the jokes bar. Can't get too complacent or you might steal my spot as the funny one.

[Oh.

That didn't go over well.

To be fair (to the situation, not himself), he was expecting Siffrin to get a little flustered. For all that the following silence is worrying, their initial reaction was about what he was aiming for! The way they squeaked over the word "flirting" and promptly hid their embarrassment in their cloak was beyond the regular definition of adorable. Siffrin is usually so cool! So collected!! So it's rare to catch them off guard like this. And hard to ignore the opportunity to surprise them in a way that makes them flustered or happy. Ideally both. He really was aiming for both...

But the seconds tick past mere ruffled feathers. And while he can't read Siffrin's expression well in the dark like this, it doesn't take a mad genius to tell that he'd made him start thinking too hard about something. Is their post-party hiding place the best time to have a feelings check? Probably not. Sif likely isn't going to appreciate it. But the chance to ask about it may slip away if he doesn't do it now, and Isabeau is trying not to be the guy that keeps putting things off into perpetuity anymore.

He's worried, but he's not so wound up that he can't laugh at what Siffrin says next.]

Heh! Is the Champion of Funny themself worried about a mere upstart like me dethroning them?

[He shakes his head at the mere idea. Preposterous! They just got done establishing that he was the fashion guy, anyway. That's enough talent for Isabeau.]

...Still. [His tone of voice eases up, his expression softens.] That was way too long of a pause for you to just have been a little embarrassed over some teasing.

[He's putting it lightly. That pause was so pregnant, it's belly was starting to show.]

Tell me what's on your mind?

[Siffrin winces internally. Yeah, should have figured Isabeau wasn't gonna let him get away with that. The whole party will doubtlessly be immediately pouncing on any weirdness from him for a good long while, and after all the mess he'd caused, he can't really blame them. He's trying to take it as the love he knows it is on an intellectual level, rather than unease and suspicion like the nastiest whispers in the back of his head would suggest. They love him. If they worry, it's because they care. Siffrin clutches that thought tight and holds it close to his heart where it can warm everything that had iced over out of necessity and despair.]

I'm...

[The denial is on the tip of his tongue. It'd be so easy to shrug it off with another joke, and it's so tempting to do so. It's certainly a less nerve-wracking idea than just spilling his guts all over the ground for Isabeau to recoil in horror from.

But he's trying too. Trying to be more open with his friends, to trust that they won't hate him for sharing his thoughts and worries any more than he would them.

The pause lingers far too long – it feels like an eternity to Siffrin, and they can only imagine how it sounds from the outside – but after a few moments they draw a breath and force themself to just fucking say it already.]

...I'm just...scared. That I'm going to mess things up. I really, really care about you, a-and I don't want to end up hurting you.

[Siffrin exhales his held breath softly. There, he did it. Whoo! And with barely any stumbling! Look at him go, acting like an actual human.]

[His breath hitches as Siffrin stutters and goes silent. Anxiety wraps itself around their little spot behind the boulangerie, invading what was supposed to be a safe place to catch a their breath from the unintentionally suffocating atmosphere of Dormont's late night party. Seems like he just brought the suffocation with him, huh. He doesn't regret checking in on them, but as the silence drags on, guilt manifests anyway, like his mere presence here is what's forcing an answer out of them now. That isn't true! It's just what this feels like, a nervousness that Isabeau is intimately acquainted with. He bites back the urge to interrupt their thoughts and assure them that this conversation can happen another time, crossing his arms and watching over them as they consider their answer.

The one they give makes him want to wrap them up in the tightest ever bear hug.]

Sif...

[If this conversation had happened just three days ago, he'd immediately blurt out that Siffrin could never hurt him. Even now, words like those still clog up the back of his throat, wanting to put Sif's immediate comfort before his own feelings on the matter. But... After what Siffrin said to him yesterday, after having to confront the exact way they could choose to hurt him if they felt so inclined, who could believe such empty reassurance? Siffrin wouldn't. And Isabeau can't, not anymore.

In lieu of the aforementioned bear hug, he reaches over and, with no small amount of trepidation, pulls their tiny hand into his. His hold is gentle; they could tug their hand away easily. But if they grip him back at all, then he'll hold their hand just as tight.]

...Yeah, you might hurt me. [For all that those words are harsh, his tone is fond, even if he can't quite bring the smile he wants to show them. It's hard not to feel a little endeared, hearing that Siffrin cares about him that much.]

And I might hurt you, too. After all, I pretty much took a sledgehammer to our friendship when I decided to tell you how I felt.

[Nobody gets out of a love confession unscathed. He irrevocably changed how they'll interact with each other from now on, knowing that the end of their friendship entirely was one of the possible outcomes. That's something he'll have to take responsibility for, and it can start right here.]

But I think... what we could have is worth the struggle.

[Siffrin is anticipating the quick denial, the I know you'd never hurt me. It feels more like the tone he's coming to expect from his friends and their frankly insane willingness to absolve him of everything. He almost resents it. He half wants to yell at them to just give him some kind of punishment already, that he's terrible and doesn't deserve this easy forgiveness.

The fact the Isabeau doesn't say it stings a little. It really drives home what Siffrin was ready to say himself, that they had already hurt him and absolutely meant to in that moment. But it's also a relief, in a way. Like they're getting that punishment part of them wants, even while Isabeau softens it with a hand taking theirs.

Siffrin is stiff at first. As always. But as if afraid they'll fall back into the same old miscommunication, he pushes through it and squeezes Isabeau's hand back tightly. His voice comes out a little shaky, a weak attempt at humor.]

That's pretty dramatic. It was more like a hammer and chisel.

[The decision to say it, not the actual confession itself. Barely a tap on its own, but it left a crack for Siffrin to worry at over the course of all those loops just waiting for it, something for him to dig into and force open like freezing water splits a stone. At least that metaphor leaves most of the blame with Siffrin where it belongs. After all, it's not Isabeau's fault his one day of hesitation got stretched into an endless repetition of chickening out.

Siffrin takes a breath and exhales slowly, focusing on the warmth of Isabeau's hand around his.]

I guess I just...don't really know what I'm doing. I've never...y'know.

[It's not like they have any past experience to work with – none they can remember, anyway. And he hasn't dared think about what could be. It feels too much like tempting fate, hoping and planning for a future beyond the same two days he'd relieved again and again.]

[It takes a moment. The stiffness and hesitation is there, the reaction that drove Isabeau and their friends to avoid touching Siffrin in the first place. But they grab onto him before he can second guess his actions, and the nervousness he'd felt initiating this dissipates. Siffrin squeezes his hand, he squeezes them back. And if it weren't for a future that necessitates it, he'd never let them go.]

Hah, is it dramatic? I dunno. When I was building up the courage to say it, that's what it felt like to me.

[The fear that he was going to ruin everything. Coming to terms with the idea that he very well might. He's been told before that his descriptions can be a little weird, and sometimes a little wild. Siffrin's comparison to a hammer and chisel sounds too tame to him, but he's not about to nitpick their own feelings on the issue. Maybe it's like... the friendship is the rock, Sif holds the chisel, and he's got the hammer? And together, they will crack it open to find the geode of love?

...Whew, that's terrible, and probably not at all what they meant. No, no, he'll be keeping that one to himself.]

Been in a relationship before? Really? [He's at least a little surprised! Sure, Siffrin is taciturn and mysterious, but he's also very approachable and easy to talk to. And pretty. It's hard to believe no one was ever interested before now, even taking their solo traveler status into consideration.]

[Siffrin is still a little on edge – probably won't fully come off said edge for a good while, honestly – but Isabeau's grip on their hand is comforting, grounding. Isa really is the prototypical rock type, all steadiness and sturdiness, reliable to a fault. Being a scissors type sounds a lot less nice in comparison – Siffrin is all sharp edges and cold steel.

With their cheeks darkening slightly, they wish they'd gone looking for their hat earlier when it got blown away. They feel a little exposed without it.]

I don't think so?

[That's...probably a weird thing to sound uncertain about, so they push forward quickly with a sideways glance at Isabeau.]

You have?

[There, that's more comfortable. They always like listening to the others talk about their own lives. It's nice.]

[They don't... think so? He tilts his head in mild befuddlement, waiting for them to continue, but they don't elaborate. Must be a memory thing. And it's sad to think that they might have forgotten something so important, so he gets it when they move the conversation along. Better to not push the subject. Isabeau wouldn't be bothered if Siffrin had dated two or two billion people before him anyway. The ball is in his court now, and he's rather intent on playing for keeps.]

Oh, I've fallen in love a handful of times. [About as much as one can expect from a man who wears his heart on his sleeve and loves romance as a concept. Mostly pleasant, some... hmm. Some really not great, if he's honest! Hearts can be cruel in that way.] I've dated twice, but we never got that serious.

[He catches their gaze and meets it with a nervous one of his own, fingers tapping on the back of their hand as a fretful thought occurs.]

Er, that's not a dealbreaker, is it?

[A dealbreaker?? Siffrin can't imagine taking issue with that. He answers in a rush, sensing that nervous energy.]

No, I don't care about that. I mean, I care, but more like I just like knowing more about you?

[Oh stars, this us embarrassing. Siffrin swallows down a lump in their throat and squeezes Isabeau's hand tighter like they might be able to wring the anxiety out of it. It doesn't do much for their own nervousness, but they cling on tight regardless and try to find the words to continue.]

And...well, you're probably a lot more experienced than me? That's all. [He grimaces, hoping it doesn't come across the wrong way.] So, as long as you're okay with that...

[Ugh. Well. That's definitely not the only potential concern, is it? It's not that he thinks Isabeau is only interested in...stuff. Isa's probably the biggest romantic of their whole group, after all. But he's never said anything about...well, anything else. Normal stuff most people probably do in relationships. Stuff Isabeau might have already done before and might expect eventually. Just thinking about it makes Siffrin feel a little sick, the lump they'd swallowed down returning with a vengeance. They think they might rather die than bring this up, but...

...But it wouldn't be fair to Isabeau to not know.

Drawing another breath to steady himself, Siffrin eases up his grip on Isabeau's hand. Just...in case he'll want to let go or something.]

And also. Um. I guess if we're talking about potential dealbreakers, then...you should probably know I don't really like the idea of...doing? Things?

[ just kill him now, this was so much easier to talk about with mira ]

[Siffrin rushes to correct and it is one hundred percent the assurance they intended it to be. Imagine! If everything came crashing down now, because he'd dared to date before! Honestly, Isabeau shouldn't have suspected it of them in the first place, but when nerves and feelings are on the line... it's easy to panic. And jump to conclusions. The hand he'd offered them in comfort now comforts him in turn, and he breathes a sigh of relief, rubbing his thumb across their knuckles in gratitude.

And then he stops. Because maybe. They only like holding hands, and don't like it when touches get too tender. Isabeau will be spending a very long time trying to suss this out if he doesn't ask about it.]

Yeah, I'm okay with that. Promise.

[And they're both pretty well aware of what he thinks of Siffrin learning about him and paying attention to him, so... The conversation idles there, before Sif takes advantage of the segue to bring up something else.]

Things...? [What subject could Siffrin possibly feel the need to dance around when they're alone like this? Something embarrassing, something like... AH. Ohhhh the way his face darkens when he gets it.] Oh! Doing things.

[The sudden ramp up to physical intimacy catches him off guard, and he takes a moment to let his own encroaching embarrassment have its way with his nerves. A little shiver, a deep breath. It's okay. He can talk about this. Talk about it like a normal person. Despite the surprise, he... already knows his answer.]

That's totally fine. We don't even have to kiss all that much, if you don't want to.

[Don't get him wrong. This is definitely something he internally lamented, back when he first realized he was falling in love. Because... Siffrin (seemed to) dislike being touched from the beginning, right? But he's also had, like... months to figure out how he wanted to handle being in love with someone who might not want the same level of physical affection that he does, and Isabeau discovered early on that he was surprisingly cool with it. That he just loves them more than he craves that kind of closeness with a partner.

Siffrin sure is special to him.]

Just tell me what your limits are! [Oh, oh right, lack of experience. Ummmm, he's gonna hold onto that hand in his for dear life as the awkwardness mounts,] Or, uh, if you don't know what those are yet, maybe... we can figure them out... together?

[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?

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