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It’s been six months since the fall of Garreg Mach Monastery.
Six months and in that time, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus has been thrown into a war that nobody saw coming, fighting against the Adrestian Empire for reasons that nobody really understands, and allying themselves with the Church of Seiros in a desperate attempt to preserve the ideals that uphold the Kingdom together. Nobles and commoners alike rush to the front lines, ready to fight for their King and their Country, and even readier to die for a war that means nothing to them—in what can only be described as a strange and deliberate show of the chivalric ideals that everyone in this Goddess-forsaken country seems to have.
It’s pitiful really, how this war has broken the already fragile Kingdom even further, and even though Felix cares for his home strongly, the ideals they’re fighting for get harder to protect with each passing day. The concept of dying for a cause greater than oneself has alway disgusted him to his core, and being forced to watch as everyone around him does exactly that is a sign that maybe this war isn’t as worth fighting for as he initially thought.
Surprisingly enough, it’s not him who brings up the notion of leaving.
In fact it’s Sylvain of all people who suggests it.
They’re in Fraldarius for the winter, waiting to be summoned to the front-lines, and while Sylvain definitely shouldn’t be here at the moment, it’s not like he has much else to do. The war hasn’t reached Gautier, and it’s unlikely that it will do so. So Sylvain spends his time avoiding the realities in front of him, and bothering Felix in the process. He’s currently resting his head on Felix’s shoulder, much in the same way that he used to when they were kids, and if it weren’t for the fact that there’s a war at their doorstep, it would be oddly nostalgic.
The wind briefly hits Felix’s face, and he takes a moment to appreciate what could be one of the last truly Faerghan winters. The war has already stripped so much from his country, and he wonders when it’ll take this as well.
“Say Felix.” Sylvain asks suddenly. “Want to run away together?”
Felix’s about to laugh Sylvain off, tell him for the millionth time that they can run away together once the war is won, but before he’s about to, he notices that Sylvain’s expression is a lot more serious than it should be. It’s clear that he’s not joking this time, and while Felix wonders why that is the case, he has a sneaking suspicion that he won’t like the answer.
“What brought this on?” He asks, trying to fight his curiosity. You haven’t asked me to run away in quite some time.”
Sylvain shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s just that the longer that this war goes on, the less I feel like it’s worth fighting.”
He can’t really argue with that, because he too shares a lot of the same sentiments, but unlike Sylvain, he doesn’t voice them out in the open. Not in the same way he used to at least. Treason is a dangerous game, and while Felix never really cared about respecting the ideals that make Faerghus into the country it is, in the face of war, he has to be a lot more careful than he’d like to be. “I know you’ve mentioned this before, and while I agree, I can’t help but wonder where you’re going with this.”
“It’s just as I said.” Sylvain replies, still wearing that weirdly serious expression. “We should run away together. Forget about this war and find a way to actually do something meaningful with our lives.”
“And what would ‘doing meaningful things’ actually entail?”
Sylvain just laughs. “Always so cheerful aren’t you.”
“I’m thinking pragmatically here.” Felix replies, fighting the urge to hit Sylvain on the head. “You can’t just propose to seriously run away without any thought behind it.”
“I have put thought into it.” Sylvain argues in response.
“Saying that Edelgard might be right every time something inconveniences you is not putting thought into anything.” Felix retaliates. “You just sound like a traitorous imbecile.”
“You don’t know that, maybe I actually do think that Edelgard has the right idea, and I’m just biding my time till I can flee and join her cause.” Sylvain leans into Felix as he says that, before pressing a gentle kiss onto his forehead. “Maybe it’s my not-so-subtle way of getting you to come to the Empire with me.”
“If it is, then you’re doing a terrible job of convincing me.”
Sylvain chuckles, before wrapping his arm around Felix’s shoulder. “I don’t know if you knew this Felix, but me and her Imperial Highness were actually good friends back when we were at the Officers Academy.”
Felix scoffs. “I find that extremely hard to believe.”
“Well you shouldn’t.” Sylvain says, completely unperturbed by Felix’s insult. “In fact, I had almost considered switching to the Black Eagles on several occasions.”
“Are you saying that because you actually believed in whatever cause she was trying to sell to you. Or were you just that desperate to sleep with her?” Felix asks in response, because he knows better than anyone else of what Sylvain used to be like.
“You think too little of me.”
“I think of you for exactly what you are.” Felix replies. “Which is an insatiable idiot.”
Sylvain leans in slightly, his hold on Felix tightening as he does.“An insatiable idiot who got his act together that is.”
Felix knows that Sylvain is trying to distract him, but it's kind of hard when they’re talking about treason of all things. and as he tries to wriggle his way out, Felix is suddenly reminded of how strong Sylvain actually is.“That’s a terrible way of describing our relationship.” Felix says, slightly out of breath. “It’s not like that’s stopped you from being insatiable in the slightest.”
Sylvain uses his free hand to tap Felix on the chin. “I thought you liked that about me.”
“Not when we’re talking about treason I don’t.”
At the grown age of twenty-one, Sylvain has the audacity to pout. “Don’t call it that.” He says, looking far too pleased with himself for Felix’s liking. “Say we’re discussing alternate perspectives.”
“You’re not serious.” Felix replies, for only Sylvain could say something like that and mean it. He’s never taken anything seriously in his life, and so it doesn’t surprise Felix that he isn’t taking this seriously either. “Stop saying stupid things.”
“That’s where you're wrong, my dearest.” Sylvain laughs, although it feels significantly less playful than before. “I’m completely serious for once.”
“About treason.”
“I told you not to call it that.”
Felix pulls himself out from Sylvain’s grip, and hits him on the head for good measure. “Well that’s what it is, regardless of how you try to sugarcoat it.”
Sylvain winces, before replying with, “Maybe, but don’t act like you’ve never thought about leaving either.”
A dangerous accusation, but it’s not like Sylvain’s wrong either. There have been times where he too has wondered what it would mean to actually consider Sylvain’s childish notions of running away—of leaving his family behind and forging his own path in life. A life where he’s not in service of a broken King or Country, fighting in what everyone believes to be a pointless war.
They are not thoughts Felix likes by any means, as for all of his issues with his Father, who represents the bloodstained ideals that come with the concept of chivalry; Dimitri, who is a broken King leading a fracturing Country, or even Faerghus itself; which is cold and barren wasteland with nothing to show for itself other than a nobility that is in tatters, it happens to be all he knows. It would take a lot for him to give up everything for the Empire, but if nothing, he wants to hear Sylvain’s reasoning for thinking about such treason so thoroughly–if only to make him feel better about having such traitorous ideas himself.
Felix waits a moment before speaking. “You want to convince me to run away to the Empire with you.” He starts, looking Sylvain in the eyes as he does so. “Then I want you to tell me what makes you think it’s worth doing.”
“Before I explain my reasoning, I want to ask you one thing.”
“And that is?”
“Tell me Felix, do you think what we’re doing is right?”
That’s a question that Felix never expected, and while he knows exactly how he feels about this war, he wonders why Sylvain is suddenly so interested.
“I think the fact we’re defending our home is right, but the way that everyone thinks about that is absolutely ridiculous. There’s nothing honourable about war, nor is there anything glorious about dying for your country.”
“That’s not very Faerghan of you, now is it?”
Felix fights the urge to roll his eyes. “It might not be patriotic or whatever, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. People are so quick to die for their country that they forget how tragic death actually is.”
“I forget how awful Fareghan culture can truly be at times.” Sylvain agrees, tilting his head ever-so-slightly. “Really makes you wonder if the ideals we’re fighting to protect are worth it.”
“Is that why you want to leave?”
“Precisely.” Sylvain replies. “Why fight for a country that we don’t believe in? Why fight for a cause that isn’t worth fighting for? Why fight for ideals that we don’t have any interest in defending?”
“Y’know what Edelgard said, when I asked her what she was trying to achieve?” Sylvain adds after a moment, with an earnest hopefulness that Felix hasn’t seen in years. “She told me that she wanted to change the world. To rid it of all the horrible systems that plague us all. To create a world with no class divides. A world where people are judged on their character and not by their Crest. A world that makes sure that the things that have happened to me and Ingrid and so many other people never happen again.”
His eyes light up as he says this, and Felix understands for the first time that Sylvain’s really serious about defecting. That this isn’t a joke that he’s making for the sake of it. That he truly believes in Edelgard and what she’s promising him.
It’s no wonder Edelgard decided to take such a drastic course of action, Felix thinks, for there is no way that she would be able to achieve any of the things she told Sylvain without it. The nobility would never give up their claims to their land and titles, nor would they sacrifice the Crests that have perpetuated their bloodlines for as long as they can remember. It’s a dangerous game to play, and while Felix can definitely see the merit of trying to do such things, he still can’t seem to understand why Edelgard declared war in order to achieve them.
There’s no way that Edelgard’s ambitions are as selfless as Sylvain believes them to be, and while Felix does not want to be the person to break that to him, he supposes he has no choice.
“That sounds too good to be true.”
“It does, but if there’s even a chance for us to destroy the world that has allowed Crests to dominate our lives, then I’ll be more than happy to try anything to achieve it.” Sylvain says in response, with an honesty that Felix doesn’t expect from him. “I might not like the fact there’s a war going on, but if that’s what it takes for the world that Edelgard is envisioning to become real, then I think it’s worth it”
“You’re far too optimistic about this.” Is all that Felix says. “What happens if you defect and it turns out that everything she told you was a lie?”
“You’re thinking about this all wrong.” Sylvain replies, tapping Felix on the nose as he does so. “It doesn’t matter whether her ideals are fake or not, what matters is that we’re able to escape the bullshit that Faerghan society puts us through.”
As much as that sounds nice, Felix knows better than to trust such promises. “Never thought I’d see the day where you of all people would hate your country.”
Sylvain just laughs at that, simple and playful. “You’re one to talk.”
“I see the way that you get when anyone even dares to mention knighthood and chivalry, or any of the glorious things that make Faerghus such a wonderful place to live.” He says, grinning slightly. “It’s clear that you hate this place as much as I do, and regardless of whether you think that Edelgard is lying or not, I like to believe that you too see a better future with the Empire than you do here.”
Felix snorts in response, before laughing himself. How presumptuous of Sylvain to even suggest such a thing. He might be right about his hatred for Fareghan ideals, but to assume that he could possibly see a better future with the Empire is almost laughable to him. The Kingdom might be slowly on the verge of falling apart, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s ready to ditch everything he knows in favour of a woman he’s never even spoken to; let alone a revolution that he doesn’t fully understand.
“I said that I would entertain your reasoning for wanting to leave.” He says after a moment, slightly out of breath. “Not that I would join you at the first implication of change.”
Sylvain’s expression sours slightly, so subtle that Felix’s only just able to catch it. “Then are you just going to stay here then?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what do you mean?” Sylvain asks. “You do realise that one of these days you’re actually going to decide where this war will take you.”
Felix knows that. Of course Felix knows that. He knows that eventually he will have to make a choice in regards to his conflicting emotions regarding this war. Just because Sylvain might be ready to drop everything for Edelgard and her vision for the future, doesn’t necessarily mean that he personally wants to join him.
While Edelgard's revolution sounds good on paper, Felix isn’t exactly convinced that she’ll actually be able to achieve the goals that she wants to achieve. Destroying the nobility sounds righteous in theory, but unless Edelgard is actually able to convince people that her vision of the world is one that benefits them, then there’s no way that they’ll actually listen. Trying to change the world is one thing, but getting people to agree with a new reality is a lot harder, and this couldn’t be more difficult to achieve anywhere else than Faerghus, where tradition is all that the people have.
It might sound extremely pessimistic of him to even be thinking like this, especially when Sylvain seems so enamoured with the idea of revolution, but if Felix has learnt anything over the course of the past six months, its that there is no such thing as optimism, just bloodshed upon bloodshed and death upon death. Ideals mean nothing in the grand scheme of war, not when lives are constantly being lost and destroyed—taken for no reason other than to satisfy the egos of those who start them.
Before Sylvain can say anything else, Felix replies. “I mean that while I dislike the ideals that make Faerghus into the country that it is, I’m not sure that leaving is actually going to do anything to change them.”
Sylvain stands up, pulling Felix up with him.
“And you think that staying in Faerghus will?”
“Not at all.”
“Then why allow yourself to be trapped here?” Sylvain asks in response. “At least if you leave there might be a chance of turning things around.”
Sylvain, like always, makes that sound so easy. What happens if they’re caught and tried for treason? What happens if they arrive in the Empire and someone kills them because they got the wrong idea? Sylvain might have the advantage of his supposed friendship with Edelgard, but Felix? He has nothing that ties him to the Empire in the slightest. Everyone knows how loyal the Fraldarius family is to the Kingdom, and while Felix might think that loyalty is ultimately misplaced, there’s no escaping the implications that come with that fact. There’s no Empire soldier that is going to believe he’s there for genuine reasons—with them more likely to assume that he’s a spy of some sort, and even if they didn’t, there’s no reason for them to trust Felix whatsoever.
“Once again, you make leaving sound so easy.” Felix laughs, and it feels far too mocking for his liking. “You forget how loyal my family is.”
Sylvain takes Felix’s hands into his, and they feel warm and comforting, a gentle reminder that regardless of the situation they’re in, that at least some things stay the same. “Since when have you let your family dictate your life?” He asks, teasing him slightly. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that grand speech you made back when we started at the Officers Academy.”
Felix recoils at the memory, for it is near impossible to forget. He was naive and reckless back then, with dreams of being something more than his family name or the bloodstained ideals that came with it—dedicated to becoming more than Glenn’s shadow, more than a mouthpiece for his idealistic and self-righteous father. But as much as he hates to admit it, war has taken those ambitions away from him, forcing him into the reality that is his duties, making him the King’s right-hand and supposedly most loyal advisor.
“Don’t remind me.” Felix replies, squeezing Sylvain’s hands slightly. “But as much as I would love to run away from my duties like I used to, I unfortunately am honour-bound to serve our King.”
Sylvain pauses for a moment, before replying. “You don’t think I know that.” He replies. “It’s no wonder you’ve always been so hesitant about leaving.”
Felix fights the urge to hit Sylvain again.
“I know my place in life, and while it’s not something I would have envisioned for myself, it's better than nothing.” Felix replies, with far more conviction than he expected. “I’m not as brave as you think I am.”
Sylvain lets go of Felix, before running his hand across the back of his neck—so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. “I find that extremely difficult to believe.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that I’ve always imagined that you’d forge your own path in life. In the same way you used to talk about when we were younger.” Sylvain replies, pulling Felix slightly closer to him. “You’ve always been so strong-willed, so confident, so ready to fight for your beliefs… and if I’m being honest, I just can’t imagine you ever doing anything that you didn’t fully agree with. And before you try to insist otherwise, I know you don’t believe in Dimitri either. Not when you’ve argued with every decision he’s made since this war started.”
He sounds so sincere as he says that, and Felix, who has never been good with dealing Sylvain’s honesty, doesn’t know how to feel. “You’re right.” Felix finally admits, and what a dangerous admission it is. “I don’t believe in Dimitri, nor do I believe in his ability to lead as King, but I’m also sensible enough to know not to mention it. My place is by the Boar’s side, whether I want to be there or not.”
Sylvain runs his hand through Felix’s hair. “What an honourable man you are, my dear.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Sylvain.” Felix replies, still laughing ever-so-slightly. “I know you think I’m wasting my life by being in Dimitri’s service.”
Sylvain’s expression morphs into something slightly more serious. “Not at all actually.”
“Really?”
“It’s your life at the end of the day.” He replies, playing with Felix’s hair as he does so. “It’s just that I can’t help but wonder, if you don’t believe in Dimitri, and can’t seem to believe in Edelgard, then what exactly is it that you believe in?”
That’s a question that Felix hasn’t actually thought about. For he has never really stopped to think about what his own ideals actually are outside of wanting to protect the people closest to him. What he does know, however, is that Edelgard’s revolution is dangerous, idealistic and doomed to fail, and that Dimitri’s vision of the future is no better—for it is nothing more than perpetuating the cycles that have haunted the Kingdom of Faerghus for as long as he can remember. Either way, Felix has little faith in both of them, and while he knows he ultimately has to choose, there’s a part of him that knows that he’ll be unsatisfied either way.
Another thing he can’t explain to Sylvain.
Not when he’s clearly made up his mind.
“I don’t know.” Felix admits in the end, because that’s slightly easier than telling the truth. “I don’t know what I believe in.”
“That’s fine too, you know.” Sylvain says, simple and honest, wearing a smile that feels far too sensible for the face that it belongs to. “I realise now that I shouldn’t have pressured you into coming with me—regardless of your doubts.”
“It’s fine.” Felix reassures him. “I had a feeling that this was going to happen eventually.”
Sylvain moves his hands lower, so that they rest on the cusp of Felix’s face. “Just know, that either way, I’ll always love you.”
Felix doesn’t know when Sylvain got so mature, not after years of philandering and wasting his life away, but as he stares at him, bright and youthful and full of the light that Felix had been so enamoured with back in his childhood, he realises that this is the happiest he’s been in almost a decade. There’s no mistaking the optimism in Sylvain’s eyes whenever he mentions Edelgard and her revolution; the conviction he carries as a result of a promise of a better future.
After years of losing all of the people that he cares about the most, all Felix wants is for Sylvain to stay with him, to keep his promise and to remain by his side for the rest of his days, but the longer he looks, the more he understands Sylvain’s desire to leave. It might break Felix’s heart to admit such a thing, but he’s no idiot, and he knows better than anyone that he’ll never be able to forgive himself if he forced Sylvain to stay.
There’s no point in delaying the inevitable, so Felix takes Sylvain’s free hand into his, and tries to commit the feeling to memory. “You say that you’ll love me no matter what.” He says after a moment, tracing the lines of Sylvain’s palm. “But what happens if we end up fighting each other?”
Sylvain lifts Felix’s hand and gently kisses it.
“Even then, I’d find a way.”
“You really are an idiot,” Felix laughs, simple and honest and far more unrestrained than he expected. “for thinking that war won’t change us.”
“That’s not what I meant, Fe. War will change us, whether we want it to or not, but I’d like to believe that even if we do end up on opposite sides, that I’d still find it in my heart to love you.”
“Why are you saying this?”
Sylvain smiles, warm and gentle and nothing like what Felix is used to. “Just because we disagree on how we view the world doesn’t change who we are as people, nor does it change the reasons I fell in love with you in the first place.”
Felix wishes that could be true, wishes that Sylvain would be able to cling onto the things that once bound them together, but as he stares at him, stares at the world and looks up to the horizon before him, he knows that there’s no way that their relationship will be able to recover from this, and as much as Sylvain would like to disagree, there’s no avoiding the reality that they ultimately want different things. Nor is there any way to escape the fact that this war, which has already taken so much from them, will just end up tearing them apart.
“Why do you always make things sound easy?” Felix asks. “First treason, and now this.”
“I never implied that it would be easy for me to continue loving you.” Sylvain replies. “You’re the one who said it, of how war changes people, but I can at least try.”
There’s a moment of silence, and Felix wishes he knew what to say to Sylvain, to promise that he’d do the same, but he’s not sure. Not when the uncertainty of war stares at them directly in the face. Not when Sylvain leaving will destroy whatever semblance of a life they could have between them. Their promise of dying together seems so trivial now—when that means betraying everything that Felix holds true, but what else will he have of Sylvain once he’s gone? A promise, a promise that one can’t live without the other, which while made in good faith, will not be able to stand the strains of war.
“Do you remember our promise?” Felix asks after a moment.
Sylvain laughs at the question, although it’s hard to ignore the sudden change in demeanour as he does so. “Of course. It’s kind of hard to forget a death pact of all things.”
“What becomes of it now?” Felix asks, and his voice almost breaks due to the weight of his words. “You know just as well as I do that war takes no prisoners.”
“You're right.” Sylvain admits, and Felix can tell that it’s not a pleasant admission. “I really wish you weren’t, but you are.” He laughs again, and it’s sharp. Pained in ways that Felix never expected from him. “You’ve always been the most realistic of the two of us, and yet there’s a part of me that wants to tell you that this doesn’t change anything, that I can be my usual carefree self and act like it doesn’t matter, but I know better now.”
Felix tightens his grip on Sylvain’s hand. “In another life, it wouldn’t have come to this.” He laments, somewhat wistfully. “If this war didn’t exist, then maybe we could have been happy together.”
Sylvain sighs. “I wish it was that easy.”
As loath as he is to admit it, Felix knows that Sylvain’s right. There’s no guarantee that they could have been happy even without the war looming over their heads, and as much as he wishes they could remain as they’ve always been, love is not enough to stop their paths from diverging.
However, Felix knows better than to dwell on what could have been, for if he had even considered doing that for even a moment, then everything he has spent the past five years trying to do would unravel before his feet. Sylvain has chosen his path in life, and Felix his, and while there’s a small part of him that wonders if he’s making the right choice, Felix knows that he has lost the ambition and resolve that would have allowed him to leave in the first place.
It’s rather unfortunate when he thinks about it, but he has a duty to the people of Faerghus, and while Felix might despise every single thing that this Goddess-forsaken country stands for, it is also his home.
“Well it’s not.” Felix states, and it comes out slightly harsher than he intended it to. “You’ve made your choice, and now you need to stick to it.”
“I had no intention of doing otherwise.” Sylvain laughs, before pressing a kiss on Felix’s forehead. “For once in my life, I’m not afraid of what the future has in store.”
It’s not like Felix to be sentimental in any way, and yet, despite himself, he can’t help himself from smiling. Despite everything, he’s proud of Sylvain for having the courage that he doesn’t, the drive to finally take what he wants for himself. It’s something he would have never expected a couple of years ago, but now that he’s staring it in the face, he sees what ambition has done for Sylvain, how it’s made him stronger, kinder and more confident than Felix could have ever imagined.
Sylvain deserves to feel all these things. He deserves to seek out a better world for himself and the people he cares about, and just because Felix himself is too much of a coward to come with him, doesn’t mean that he’s unhappy that Sylvain made that choice to begin with.
Felix laughs, before pulling Sylvain into a hug. It’s likely that this is the last time they’ll be together like this, and as much as Felix thinks that affection is for fools, Sylvain’s always been one of his weak points. “Never in a million years did I think you’d be the one to say that, and yet here we are.”
“You’re not the only one who’s surprised.” Sylvain replies, with an uncharacteristic but somewhat understandable softness. “Change is a terrifying thing, but I like to believe that the world I want to fight for will be worth it.” He lets go of Felix as he says that, but not before giving him a kiss on the lips. It’s far softer than any they’ve shared before, gentle and distinctly bittersweet, and yet, Felix can’t help but find that rather fitting.
“May the Kingdom remain kind to you, Felix.” Sylvain says this the moment he pulls away, and Felix can’t help but laugh at such a comment. “Despite all my issues with this place, there’s still a part of me that’s going to miss it.”
Felix raises his eyebrows in amusement. “I find that extremely hard to believe.”
“Well you shouldn’t.” Sylvain laughs, before flashing his signature smile. “Regardless of wars and revolutions, of grand plans and ambitions, of all the terrible things that make up this terrible country, it’ll still have you.”
“When did you learn to become so sentimental?”
“I’ve always been like this when it comes to you.” Sylvain admits not a moment later. He says this simply and honestly, and if it weren’t for the fact that this revelation is tainted by the knowledge of an inevitable goodbye, Felix would have cherished it forever.
“Well I hope your sentiment carries over through your travels.” Felix says in the end. As much as he enjoys Sylvain’s touching display of affection, he knows that the longer they stay out here like this, the harder it will become for Felix to say goodbye. “The journey to Adrestia is a long and arduous one, and as much as I generally find amusement in your suffering, the last thing I want is for you to get injured through sheer stupidity.”
“It would be far shorter with you by my side, my dear Felix, but, we can’t have everything we wish for.” Sylvain replies, looking rather wistful. “Just remember that no matter where this war takes me, I will always love you.” He kisses Felix once more upon saying that, and the same bittersweet feeling from earlier seems to appear once more.
Felix takes a moment to laugh into the kiss, and for a singular moment, allows himself to believe that it’s true.
“Is this goodbye?” He asks, the moment that Sylvain pulls away. “Because if it is, I want you to promise me something.”
“And that’s that?”
“I want you to promise that if we do ever fight each other, that you won’t hold back on me.” Felix says, simple and resolute. “If I am to die on the battlefield, then the least you can do is let it be by your own hand.”
Sylvain doesn’t say anything, and instead places his hand on Felix’s shoulder. “If that’s what you want, then who am I to deny you such a request?” He replies after a while, and Felix can tell how much it pains Sylvain to say this. “I just hope that it doesn’t come to that.”
Felix wishes that too, but he knows that the world has a habit of being far crueler than it needs to be, and as much as he wishes that their promises could be different, he knows that this is the best they’ll get under their current circumstances. He takes Sylvain’s hands into his once more, and gives them one last squeeze. “As much as I hate to admit this, I will miss you.”
Sylvain smiles at that, soft and loving. “I know you will.”
“Then don’t die before I get the chance to kill you.” Felix says finally. It’s not the goodbye he would have hoped for, but it’s not as though Felix had planned to let go of Sylvain like this in the first place. There’s little else they can say to each other now, and all he can hope is that Sylvain takes his words to heart, and tries to keep the few promises that they still have between them.
He hopes that it’ll be enough.