[The closer Sylvain gets, the less he can deny what he's seeing. The eye color is the same, right down to the shadows Dimitri had been developing in months leading up to that fateful battle. Of course, the Dimitri he knew wasn't missing an eye, but.
That Dimitri wasn't supposed to be alive, either.
And there's n denying that it's his king, either. He could pick out a dozen or so inconsistencies, but he knows that voice. He'd listened to it for decades, witnessed it grow and develop with manhood just as they all had.]
Dimitri -- [He doesn't think he's said the name in months. It catches odd in his throat. Everything about this feels wrong, right down to the awful ache building within his chest.
He forces a smile to his face, lopsided and likely ineffective.]
no subject
That Dimitri wasn't supposed to be alive, either.
And there's n denying that it's his king, either. He could pick out a dozen or so inconsistencies, but he knows that voice. He'd listened to it for decades, witnessed it grow and develop with manhood just as they all had.]
Dimitri -- [He doesn't think he's said the name in months. It catches odd in his throat. Everything about this feels wrong, right down to the awful ache building within his chest.
He forces a smile to his face, lopsided and likely ineffective.]
Did you give the wrong girl a knife again?