19 Aug 2019
“I overheard Flayn commenting on my affections for you earlier,” he continues. “To Manuela, of all people. To think that—well. She spoke more bluntly than I expected.”
A tiny puff of laughter escapes her, and he scowls.
“This is a serious matter,” he says, mustering the last dregs of his dignity.
She hums. “It is,” she agrees mildly. Their faces are very, very close.
Seteth and Byleth spend an evening together in his office. Unfortunately, his office lacks a bed. Fortunately, the chair, while cramped, fits two.
13 Aug 2019
They’re both absolutely filthy but neither of them care, stripping off clothes and armor with desperate hands, distracting themselves from the task with hot, melting kisses.
Byleth sighs into his mouth. “Too many layers,” she murmurs, untying his sash.
“Delayed gratification?” he suggests, even as he grapples with his pauldron and cape, throwing them carelessly aside, too breathless to sound cheeky.
Byleth and Claude have spent far too much time apart for being so desperately in love as they are. Claude wants to remedy that.
His eyes are warm, his hands rough and calloused and capable of great violence and incredible gentleness in equal measure, and Jessamine has never felt love of this intensity before.