[ He can feel the distance Sylvain is still trying to keep between them, and it makes that feeling in his chest grow intense, even as he becomes far too aware of Sylvain's hands against his.
(These hands that held not just me, but the others who came to you for warmth, Sylvain. Are you going to let them grow cold now?)
It's hard enough for Dimitri, who's gone so long without such closeness and touch for these years, where the scars of his trauma have seared through him to make everything feel like it can never offer him any comfort- to reach out like this. To open himself to the comfort that he ought to take.
That he's selfishly taken, and will hold, from Byleth.
And this... ]
Then I'm giving it to you.
[ He says, a little sharply, before pulling his head back to look firmly into Sylvain's eyes. Their faces are hardly far, enough for him to feel Sylvain's breaths on his face. ]
Whatever I am now, I wouldn't be without the Professor, but what I was allowed to be- as myself, beyond the madness and before, was because I had all of you. And especially—
[ His own hand moves up to Sylvain's chest, the both of them very nearly the same height, yet enough for Dimitri to still stand a little taller-
And that's when he moves, doing the only thing he can to speak in a language Sylvain will comprehend, after how he's twisted himself. Dimitri's hand rises to the back of his head, fingers threading in the strands, before he pulls him closer, and presses their mouths together.
It's not a lustful kiss- nor is it one to entice. It's simple, longing, and comforting.
As though telling Sylvain that he would give him even more than this, only because it was him. He lets it linger, feeling his face burn, before he breaks it, but doesn't move too far back. ]
Because I've always had you, Sylvain. Don't you dare try and presume that you mean any less to me.
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(These hands that held not just me, but the others who came to you for warmth, Sylvain. Are you going to let them grow cold now?)
It's hard enough for Dimitri, who's gone so long without such closeness and touch for these years, where the scars of his trauma have seared through him to make everything feel like it can never offer him any comfort- to reach out like this. To open himself to the comfort that he ought to take.
That he's selfishly taken, and will hold, from Byleth.
And this... ]
Then I'm giving it to you.
[ He says, a little sharply, before pulling his head back to look firmly into Sylvain's eyes. Their faces are hardly far, enough for him to feel Sylvain's breaths on his face. ]
Whatever I am now, I wouldn't be without the Professor, but what I was allowed to be- as myself, beyond the madness and before, was because I had all of you. And especially—
[ His own hand moves up to Sylvain's chest, the both of them very nearly the same height, yet enough for Dimitri to still stand a little taller-
And that's when he moves, doing the only thing he can to speak in a language Sylvain will comprehend, after how he's twisted himself. Dimitri's hand rises to the back of his head, fingers threading in the strands, before he pulls him closer, and presses their mouths together.
It's not a lustful kiss- nor is it one to entice. It's simple, longing, and comforting.
As though telling Sylvain that he would give him even more than this, only because it was him. He lets it linger, feeling his face burn, before he breaks it, but doesn't move too far back. ]
Because I've always had you, Sylvain. Don't you dare try and presume that you mean any less to me.