[ it's mostly wholesome. the troupe is all she has for a family, and most of them know it. they play all the important roles in dorothea's life - sister, brother, confidante - and more often than not these days, matchmaker.
his smile, lacking mischief for once (or, well, lacking as much mischief as usual) just makes hers shine brighter, which is such a silly, giddy thing to feel. something she hasn't felt in a long time. but she keeps her mind in the present, doesn't allow herself to think back to garreg mach and make the mistake of conjuring up memories.
she just wants to be content. is that so difficult to ask?
she doesn't lean into his touch, and she rolls her eyes when there are audible gasps coming from around them as his sweet gesture. he'll know it's not at him. ] Thank you. Spread the word up in Faerghus. There's still time yet to make a trip down this season.
Come on, let me get into some real clothes. [ she walks past him, ducking her nose into the flowers to smell them as she moves towards the dressing room door. three sharp raps at the door, and in a commanding tone - ] You're all done dressing, go home. [ - and six girls come scurrying out, murmuring fake apologies as they head down the hallway back to their quarters. dorothea ruffles the shortest one's hair, while some of the older ones wink boldly in sylvain's direction, or point at the flowers and give him a thumbs-up.
menaces, all of them. but once the room is cleared out, dorothea holds the door open for sylvain, waving him through. the room itself is neat as a pin, except for one vanity that has a mess of cosmetics and clutter across it. it's there that dorothea sets down the flowers and picks up her bag before stepping behind a screen and beginning to change. ]
I can't believe you talked with the girls. And don't deny it! [ she points at him over the top of the screen, but there's barely suppressed laughter in her voice. ] I don't know if I like you making friends with people who know so much about me.
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his smile, lacking mischief for once (or, well, lacking as much mischief as usual) just makes hers shine brighter, which is such a silly, giddy thing to feel. something she hasn't felt in a long time. but she keeps her mind in the present, doesn't allow herself to think back to garreg mach and make the mistake of conjuring up memories.
she just wants to be content. is that so difficult to ask?
she doesn't lean into his touch, and she rolls her eyes when there are audible gasps coming from around them as his sweet gesture. he'll know it's not at him. ] Thank you. Spread the word up in Faerghus. There's still time yet to make a trip down this season.
Come on, let me get into some real clothes. [ she walks past him, ducking her nose into the flowers to smell them as she moves towards the dressing room door. three sharp raps at the door, and in a commanding tone - ] You're all done dressing, go home. [ - and six girls come scurrying out, murmuring fake apologies as they head down the hallway back to their quarters. dorothea ruffles the shortest one's hair, while some of the older ones wink boldly in sylvain's direction, or point at the flowers and give him a thumbs-up.
menaces, all of them. but once the room is cleared out, dorothea holds the door open for sylvain, waving him through. the room itself is neat as a pin, except for one vanity that has a mess of cosmetics and clutter across it. it's there that dorothea sets down the flowers and picks up her bag before stepping behind a screen and beginning to change. ]
I can't believe you talked with the girls. And don't deny it! [ she points at him over the top of the screen, but there's barely suppressed laughter in her voice. ] I don't know if I like you making friends with people who know so much about me.