#ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ ʷᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ‧ ─ inbox

[reginlcif-blog]

Kiss + 21

another kissing meme? really jean? ─ sort of accepting

    ─21: for the first time.

he smiles like it’s the first time he’s been able to in years. its as if an old clock’s gears have only just started turning after an age kept still. the cogs grind together & they shake of their dust & they fall into that steady tick tick ticking rhythm. when lyon is helping him make sense of studies he otherwise couldn’t keep his attention on, it feels like the world slowly comes together at the fluttering rhythm of his heart. just as that old clock slowly comes to life, listening to lyon talk on & on about the history of a bygone era brings colour to the world around him.

he realises then that it has to be because of him but he brushes the thought aside─he must focus on their studies, and not his many whimsical fancies.

and yet, ephraim finds his attention drifting every time he tries to center it on what lyon is talking about. his gaze slides from the parchment he’s so flippantly writing on, to lyon himself. to that focused sort of look he gets when he’s interested in something. how his eyes light up ( and how they shine like the stars in the sky ) & the smallest curls that pull at lips as he reads the passage.

its an unconscious action, what ephraim does. the quill pen lay slack in his hand & he only slightly realises he’s leaning toward lyon. he hears a soft question─he definitely knows his friend has noticed his odd behaviour─but it falls flat when he’s his lips ‘cross the other’s. ephraim feels his heart flutter once more, but not with that odd joy that comes when he’s watching lyon─no. in that brief moment his heart is heavy with guilt, for he has come aware that he has overstepped an unspoken boundary. he pulls himself away, but he’s met with lyon’s lips once more. so, he melts into it. he falls into the kiss like that old clock falls into it’s steady rhythm & with that imaginary tick tick ticking in his chest, he is overcome with a wave of relief.

a soft laugh rises from ephraim’s chest once they’ve parted. there lies a curl which emulates something rare to his features. a slight tint which has sparingly touched his face─is he embarrassed? certainly; he’s not kissed another in his life with such intention, and it showed in his complete lack of… finesse. ( it was sloppy, yes, but not without genuine emotion behind it ) for someone who boasts great talent in many fields, something as a trivial as a silent confession should have been less of a silly mess. perhaps he ought to have more class─more tact for expression than thoughtless actions.

ephraim clears his throat. he offers a quiet apology for his boldness, though he truly wished to thank lyon instead. the words don’t rise; but lyon’s soft words reassure him that no wrong had been done. he turns himself to go back to his writing. that smile still persists─and from the corner of his eye, he can see the same sort of curve tug at lyon’s lips.

[reginlcif-blog]

"Will you PLEASE stop trying to stuff me into every locker we pass."

          “ will you stop being such a drama      queen, leo? most schools don’t even have      lockers big enough to fit even a child in.      for reasons like that. “

[reginlcif-blog]

❝ i don’t need my pants, anyway. ❞

dragon age ─ accepting

there is a long pause. ephraim merely stands there with his eyes trained elsewhere & his fingers curled ‘round the ceramic mug he has held to his lips. a soft breath rises & falls from his chest, and finally──

          “ please go put pants on, ike.           before eirika comes home. “

[reginlcif-blog]

❝ you aren’t all stone, Ephraim. there is a person inside of you. ❞

dragon age ─ accepting 

          “ that may be so, and i cannot           deny the truth to your words, “

and yet, his expression remains unchanged. it doesn’t shift & it doesn’t return once more to the smile one shares on summer afternoons. ( bright & gentle; warm & kind ) he remains as he was, with his head in his thoughts and his a look of contemplation─as if he’s been left to mull over something a moment too long. and he has; oh, ephraim has had his mind stuck on one bitter memory to the next, yet he refuses to vocalise what plagues him so. 

kamui has noticed, though she knows thrice as little as someone whom he traveled along side in the past. ( he holds it not against her; it is not her fault she hails from a land far from magvel & it’s hardships─all heroes in this kingdom of askr are in such a position ) ephraim turns his gaze over his shoulder as she draws near & tilts her frame on the railing he’s resting against.

          “ but, i thank you for your concern,           kamui. its no longer something of          importance, and as such, it shouldn’t           be something to worry about. “

[reginlcif-blog]

❝ i’m cold. & it’s indoors. this is so wrong. ❞

dragon age ─ accepting

a laugh follows the mage’s complaint.

          “ that’s because you’re so small, soren.           you cannot possibly retain a lot of heat on           your own. or, i would take it that your own           homeland is warmer than this? “

[reginlcif-blog]

"I have an excellent sense of dramatic timing. & good hair."

dragon age ─ accepting

and while it is true that she has such a flair and such a sense of timing ( and, as she so boldly suggests, hair quite hard to compare ) he cannot easily hide the hard pressed expression which settles on his face from the woman’s boast. ephraim allows a breath to escape him─with the fall of his chest, so leaves the displeasure from his features. he oughtn’t get himself into a bundle so easily. such an expression ill suited not only a royal figure, but his own outward appearance as a whole.

          “ i’m in your debt, but only narrowly so.           had you been two moments later, i’d           have been met with the unpleasant end of that axe.“

another truth & one he will admit to. these are foes he is not used to; and as such, is ill prepared to take on their numbers alone. ( war he is familiar with. creatures of the damned as well. but the savagery of man… truthfully, less so ) but, as goes his nature─he’ll face any challenge with a wild sort of confidence & headstrong attitude.

he pauses as his gaze sweeps upward to the woman upon her mount. ( rather than focus on the bandit she’s struck so expertly with─with magic? how… odd… ) a curl teases his lips & he corrects his stance─bringing to play not a man in the midst of battle, but one of regal bearing.

          “ how might i repay the favour? “