[ When it comes to relationships, Felix is not clingy. As a (self-proclaimed, at the very least) loner, he understands the need for personal space. Hell, most of the time he's the one asking for it.
But Dimitri's been gone for almost a week on "official business" (which is, for the record, a load of bullshit - he's his right-hand man, he knows dimitri's to-do list backwards and forwards, there's nothing on said list that requires a trip), leaving him to his own devices.
They've been apart before - though less frequent nowadays, Felix occasionally makes trips back to Fraldarius territory to settle matters that require the voice of Duke Fraldarius - but this time feels... different, for some reason. At first, he's able to go through his day without a fuss, taking meals as usual and curling up in Dimitri's empty bed once he can no longer keep his eyes opens. But the vacant space next to him grows more noticeable with every passing hour and he eventually finds himself restlessly drifting from bedroom to training hall, as he did at his lowest points during the war.
He's not needy. He's not. He's not. But fuck, does he miss Dimitri.
As he is apt to do, Felix tries to work through his longing through swinging a sword until his mind and body are too exhausted to feel anymore. Having no one to properly spar with (he's already challenged and managed to scare off their most seasoned knights through his ferocity), his eyes are set on the dummy before him. And what a poor dummy it is - though he's yet to break a blade, the dummy itself has seen better days.
Felix pauses for a moment, wiping sweat from his face with the bottom of his sleeveless turtleneck. He takes a breath, noting the ache in his limbs from repetitive movement, but hearing those pesky thoughts of how he wishes Dimitri were here to spar with him, or to push back the hair from his eyes, or something, and he swings at the dummy again with a battle cry tearing from his lips. ]
no subject
But Dimitri's been gone for almost a week on "official business" (which is, for the record, a load of bullshit - he's his right-hand man, he knows dimitri's to-do list backwards and forwards, there's nothing on said list that requires a trip), leaving him to his own devices.
They've been apart before - though less frequent nowadays, Felix occasionally makes trips back to Fraldarius territory to settle matters that require the voice of Duke Fraldarius - but this time feels... different, for some reason. At first, he's able to go through his day without a fuss, taking meals as usual and curling up in Dimitri's empty bed once he can no longer keep his eyes opens. But the vacant space next to him grows more noticeable with every passing hour and he eventually finds himself restlessly drifting from bedroom to training hall, as he did at his lowest points during the war.
He's not needy. He's not. He's not. But fuck, does he miss Dimitri.
As he is apt to do, Felix tries to work through his longing through swinging a sword until his mind and body are too exhausted to feel anymore. Having no one to properly spar with (he's already challenged and managed to scare off their most seasoned knights through his ferocity), his eyes are set on the dummy before him. And what a poor dummy it is - though he's yet to break a blade, the dummy itself has seen better days.
Felix pauses for a moment, wiping sweat from his face with the bottom of his sleeveless turtleneck. He takes a breath, noting the ache in his limbs from repetitive movement, but hearing those pesky thoughts of how he wishes Dimitri were here to spar with him, or to push back the hair from his eyes, or something, and he swings at the dummy again with a battle cry tearing from his lips. ]