( Maybe it was the older man's stride or the particular shade of red hair that caught his attention. Dimitri doesn't know if it had been a conscious reaction on his part or not, but he does realize, after a few seconds, who he had called out to. And there is a brief couple seconds where he thinks he may have made a mistake in doing so.
He feels his breath catch in his throat as he watches Slyvain spin back around. While he'd finally come to his senses back home, haunted now by the sight of Rodrigue's lifeless body, his final words, he can't help but think he isn't ready for this. He's not ready to look Sylvain in the eye and speak to him as if nothing had changed over the years, as if he hadn't been this cruel monster who snarled at any and everyone who tried to come close. As if there hadn't been a time where he wondered why Sylvain hadn't come to his side all those years ago after those ludicrous accusations.
For a moment, he's quiet, looking up at the other from his spot on the ground before he finally pushes himself up and to his feet. There's a stiff nod of his head, his hands twitching where they hang at his sides. ) Sylvain.
( It's hard, suddenly, to find words. What do you say in these situations? Should he be relieved to see a familiar face? Should it worry him to know a childhood friend is in this situation as well? There are too many things he isn't sure about, doesn't know if he has the right words or even feelings to come up with something. What he finally manages is a stilted: ) I— I wasn't expecting you.
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He feels his breath catch in his throat as he watches Slyvain spin back around. While he'd finally come to his senses back home, haunted now by the sight of Rodrigue's lifeless body, his final words, he can't help but think he isn't ready for this. He's not ready to look Sylvain in the eye and speak to him as if nothing had changed over the years, as if he hadn't been this cruel monster who snarled at any and everyone who tried to come close. As if there hadn't been a time where he wondered why Sylvain hadn't come to his side all those years ago after those ludicrous accusations.
For a moment, he's quiet, looking up at the other from his spot on the ground before he finally pushes himself up and to his feet. There's a stiff nod of his head, his hands twitching where they hang at his sides. ) Sylvain.
( It's hard, suddenly, to find words. What do you say in these situations? Should he be relieved to see a familiar face? Should it worry him to know a childhood friend is in this situation as well? There are too many things he isn't sure about, doesn't know if he has the right words or even feelings to come up with something. What he finally manages is a stilted: ) I— I wasn't expecting you.