[I'll try, Sylvain says, and Felix knows that he means it... as much as he can. Oh, he'll certainly make an attempt to be more thoughtful! He'll remember this conversation, just as he remembers the many others before it, and he'll do his best to be careful—until others are in danger, that is. Until another situation like this one pops up, because Sylvain is... Sylvain. A reckless fool who always—always—comes through when it counts, and Felix hates that about him.
(Felix appreciates that about him.)
So Sylvain thanking him is... pointless, really. "Thanks for saving my ass!" is a thing that should be said, like, as little as possible, because it's the sort of thing that implies the speaker will try very, very hard to avoid repeating their mistake(s) in the future; Sylvain, however, will make this particular mistake time and time again, and they both know this, and while Felix feels that familiar frustration bubbling back up—hmm. He's here now, you know? Keeping his arm close to Felix's like he thinks Felix will neither notice nor care, and Felix breathes out a short, sharp breath before looking back at him.]
I'm not doing it again, [is what he says, voice stern—and this, too, is something they both know? Something they both know is a patent lie, because Felix will come to Sylvain's aid as many times as he's able. Someone has to make sure that Sylvain doesn't die an unfortunately early death.
But there's knowing something, and there's verbalizing it, so! So. Felix studies his friend's face for a moment longer, taking in that small smile and those familiar brown eyes, before he shifts his gaze back up to the treeline. Look at that sunrise! Bright, beautiful colors... a sight for sore eyes, after a night spent fighting stupid skeletons...
And you know, it's just so distracting that he's just going to? Leave his arm right where it is? Barely brushing against Sylvain's.]
Go back. Before the boar notices you're gone.
[Maybe? Probably. He should have already noticed such a thing, if he's worth anything at all.]
no subject
(Felix appreciates that about him.)
So Sylvain thanking him is... pointless, really. "Thanks for saving my ass!" is a thing that should be said, like, as little as possible, because it's the sort of thing that implies the speaker will try very, very hard to avoid repeating their mistake(s) in the future; Sylvain, however, will make this particular mistake time and time again, and they both know this, and while Felix feels that familiar frustration bubbling back up—hmm. He's here now, you know? Keeping his arm close to Felix's like he thinks Felix will neither notice nor care, and Felix breathes out a short, sharp breath before looking back at him.]
I'm not doing it again, [is what he says, voice stern—and this, too, is something they both know? Something they both know is a patent lie, because Felix will come to Sylvain's aid as many times as he's able. Someone has to make sure that Sylvain doesn't die an unfortunately early death.
But there's knowing something, and there's verbalizing it, so! So. Felix studies his friend's face for a moment longer, taking in that small smile and those familiar brown eyes, before he shifts his gaze back up to the treeline. Look at that sunrise! Bright, beautiful colors... a sight for sore eyes, after a night spent fighting stupid skeletons...
And you know, it's just so distracting that he's just going to? Leave his arm right where it is? Barely brushing against Sylvain's.]
Go back. Before the boar notices you're gone.
[Maybe? Probably. He should have already noticed such a thing, if he's worth anything at all.]