#bernie's first ask > deirdre > camilla > innes > tiki > matthias > lambert > this ask :softsmile:

[ulircursed]

well thank goodness she'd been so occupied with her laxative bread (and foiled revenge scheme) that she hadn't been within earshot of The Drama!

so she searches again for andrei. scuttling about in the shadows, nooks and crannies of the venue with the staff too busy to mind, she wheedles her way around the crowds until finally, in the distance, she spots his back.

tug, tug. just the gentlest little tugs at his sleeve after she plainly trots up to him. innocent recognition glimmers in her eyes. he doesn't look too well, either, does he? with a tilt of fluffy hair— "andrei? are you leaving? i mean, tell me about it! there's so many people. bernie's gotta recharge for a while, too."

and lie low in case she's been discovered. preferably with someone safe. preferably not an actual eagle. but for someone who values her alone time to near catastrophic extent, she doesn't ask this lightly. "um... can we take a break together? i-if you want to. do you want to? we don't have to. but i'd like to. oh—and i was stuck in the infirmary for a while, but i never got to thank you for letting me use your brave bow! it meant a lot to me. especially after getting to hear your story... and about what we had in common."

Andrei is so focused on escaping the situation that he barely notices his surroundings, legs carrying him woodenly through the crowd as he leaves the medical tent for the passageway leading back to the Abyss. To safety.

He only stops when he feels a tug at his sleeve, whirling around in alarm to face the new intrusion, though his tight expression visibly softens as he sees Bernadetta once more.

For a moment, he wonders if she, like Professor Lambert, could see the signs of earlier tears, but then decides that it hardly matters. He'd laid his weakness bare for her since their first exchange, and Bernadetta had never once scorned him for it, had she?

"I— yes, I thought..." his voice falters, but he manages to keep it steady, "I thought it best to leave, considering my injuries have been mostly treated."

There's still the ache in his chest, a sharp echo of the old wound that Yewfelle's arrow had dealt against him, almost like a reminder.

But Bernadetta brings up his bow, and like the earlier, physical tug on his sleeve it gently draws him back to the present, and he gives her a smile, small and tired.

"...Do you know someplace quiet? I think a... a break does sound welcome, now."