I can't imagine it. [ Bernie giggles a little, one hand rising immediately to hide her smile. Ferdinand being enthusiastic over tea is one thing - that happens regularly! - but having to treat injured lips is another. Their thoughts accidentally align on that, unknowingly, as she thinks - it's probably easier to kiss it better, but... She's been down that road of thoughts before! It hadn't led anywhere nice. ]
I mean... you know. I bet salves taste and feel gross, and unpleasant. I doubt it'd be nice to have that on your lips.
[ You know what would be nice though?-- no, no. Can't think of that!! Her ears burn and she looks quickly down at her tea, lifting it up so she can purse her lips to blow on it gently. ]
Some of them are not so offensive. [He lifts his cup in his hands, letting the steam of it waft closer to his face.] There is this plant that comes from the arid regions of Almyra that is quite a pleasant component, of one I have used, actually. But it still tingles...
[And his mind still incessantly hovers, unknowingly in tandem with Bernadetta's, around a certain activity that can be shared lip on lip. One that no doubt must tingle quite sensuously, but... he wouldn't know. He has yet to. And... it's probably a matter of time, at this point.
Goodness! Getting a bit restless, he shifts his leg to bring it closer to the table, but their ankles brush and such simple glancing contact electrifies him like lightning. He tightens his grip on his saucer.]
Oh! I think I know that - it's the sort that feels nice and cool, doesn't it? It comes from this really cute and interesting little plant that has spines all over to protect itself because...
[ She looks all set to launch into another excited, unwarranted dump of information on him. One he really didn't ask for, and the thought washes over her quite suddenly. ]
Oh, Bernie, you have to get ahold of yourself. It's his birthday!
[Goddess save him... Are there aphrodisiacs laced in the tea...? Oh, but he hasn't even gotten around to trying it, yet!
(The secret is that Bernadetta's words are the aphros. She is casting a spell on him!)]
Well! My lips feel even better when they are not hurt. Hahaha...!
[What... What is he saying? Ferdinand's smile at her gets even screwier, and just to assuage his nerves he levels the teacup's rim close to his lips, the brew still a tad too hot for proper enjoyment of it.
It's as though the tension that had risen between them during their last meal together was being revived. Should he do something about it? Or would it be a total faux pas? Is she thinking about the same thing he is, or is he pathetically alone in this?]
Bernadetta... [He lowers his cup back down to the saucer and leans forward on his folded arm, which closes some distance. Is this going to be a bad time? He had already proclaimed his desire to her... loudly, and down the stairs. It is not as if she isn't aware, wouldn't be contemplating the same thing after all of that. He still finds himself unable to ask outright at the moment, so he aims somewhere less vulnerable, voice softening.] Allow me to brace you: I am going to ask you something a little bit... impertinent. On the matter of lips, now that we keep talking about them and I keep thinking about them. Have you ever... kissed anyone before?
[Now that she has been in Duplicity and gotten contracted, it's a question that's more worth asking. Before all of this, it would have been much easier to just assume that she had not. She had always struggled with her social life, the act of holding a simple conversation a challenge he would never truly know how to relate to, even though he tried desperately to empathize. How has this place... changed her, so far?]
[ If given the choice, Bernie would simply stare down at her cup and at her knees through this whole thing, if possible. But of course, manners demanded otherwise - she was raised better than this, she knew, she could hear the echoes of her own father telling her to sit up, to remain poised and composed and attentive - so she swallows hard and looks up.
Ferdinand was asking difficult questions, but he wasn't asking them out of nowhere. She didn't know where her own thoughts were coming from, either, and... oh, her eyes keep flicking down to his lips and she has to keep looking elsewhere. ]
It's... Maybe. Yes. Here, of course, and... [ She glances up at him again, turning red as she admits something she hasn't said to anyone from home...
Well, no, she told Annette, before she left. If she could tell her, she could probably tell Ferdinand. Right? ] And maybe once or twice, when it got lonely, at home.
[ She twists the fabric of her sweater nervously. It's weird, it feels like admitting to something terribly shameful. Something she shouldn't have done, because if she wasn't unmarriageable before, she certainly is now. ]
I'm sorry, I... I think I should have said so earlier! You probably think I'm no good now.
[Surprise dawns abruptly on his features as she admits this about herself. So he had assumed absolutely wrong...]
What? No, I think nothing of the sort about you! And something like this is nothing for you to feel obligated to tell me. It is not as though I am your... your lover, or your future husband, or — anything of that nature to you!
[Why does that kind of sting to say right now? It isn't as though he really feels as though she owes him that kind of information, after all. She is a dear friend, of course, but even dear friends need not tell each other every last private detail about their lives. He had been very content the way that their lives had panned out in actuality, as classmates deepening a bond, as soldiers defending each other and the Emperor and her ideals for a new Adrestria, a new Fodlan. Who knows how fraught they could have been tangled in the marital politics of their parents?
And she was his... betrothed, once upon a time. When he did not want it, was too young to truly want it even though he knew it to be his duty as the next prime minister of the proud Adrestian Empire.
He empties a sigh, as if to deflate some of the impact of this upon him.]
And you are not obligated to tell me who you had kissed, either. Nonetheless, I admit that a certain curiosity burns me now...
[ It does sting, but it's more like the dulled edge of an arrowhead pressing into her side or something. There's nothing painful about how he says it, nothing life-threatening that'll make her run away and hide again but - it shouldn't hurt at all, should it? That they've become friends at all is a miracle, she never thought she'd make friends after her father had her first friend beaten up for daring to come close. But she had friends now, and they all looked out for her, and didn't care too much when she got in her own head. It's too much to hope for anything more from them, probably? She shouldn't be so selfish.
She's uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, fiddling with the stitches of her sweater's hem, as she tries to put her thoughts into order. She's sorry anyway, she feels like she's let him down for some reason, and this is why she tries to keep her distance from him and from Hubert. It feels safer that they not know what she's up to, so she has to agree with his assessment. She's not obligated to tell him anything about that -- so she won't. ]
If... you don't want to know about that, then... what are you curious about?
Well... [Instead of looking directly at her, he watches the steam unfurl from his cup, sorting through different faces from their past.] That... is actually what I am so insatiably curious about right now. Who you might have kissed...
[ She blows a puff of air out and sinks back into her chair. Why's he so curious, anyway? Did it matter? ]
Annette kissed me when we... In that place, with all the testing... [ Last month, with all the experiments. Then she didn't see her again. ]
Um, Yuri did at home too, when things were lonely and dark, during the march to Gronder. [ She could have died there! Everyone wanted the hill she was stationed on, and... she could have died, and the war would have just gone on. ]
Dorothea said I ought to know how it feels, just once, so she did - but that was when we were all still in the academy.
[Ferdinand's eyebrows rise in crushed sympathy when she brings up Annette and the experiments, a double hit to his heart. He should be more relieved that Annette no longer needs to endure this program in this city with them, but it was a comfort to have her. And the experiments that Hubert spoke of, which had also happened to Bernadetta... A rash of resentment toward LIEs runs across his heart, for taking his friends and violating them in such ways.
And then, Yuri... How strange. They had been growing closer, from his own limited perspective, in the sense that Bernadetta would no longer avoid him so much in particular... but it seemed like the passion had been evoked from the comparative despairs brought on by war, poignant and bittersweet. Of course, his focus had been on guarding the frontlines, on the heat of battle, far away from Bernadetta's post. Still, that surprises him as well. And when she admits what Dorothea had done to her, he can't help it: heat rushes to his face, and he can't rightly figure out who he is more jealous of...
A soft, short, and incredulous laugh escapes him, and he shakes his head at himself and lifts the cup back up.]
Why, I had no idea... [He partakes in his first delicate sip, in part to quell his nerves.] To think, someone so prone to seclusion would share in such kisses before I, Ferdinand von Aegir, could even have just one...
[ In all honesty, Bernadetta didn't understand it either. She craved seclusion and solitude, but people kept turning up at her door or her tent or at her table anyway, wanting to chat or wanting to spend time for one thing or another. Why was it so difficult to maintain her time alone, as she'd once told Ferdinand? Maybe it's because she ties with two other characters for Most Support Chains In The Game.
She frowns a little when he seems to imply that not having one meant... something. ]
It's... it isn't bad, I don't think. If you've never had one. I don't know if I even wanted--... it was just really scary to think about. At first. [ Even with Annette, she'd been very cautious and careful. She thought she'd die from how hard her heart been beating - but once that threshold had been crossed... Here she is, living how Duplicity dictated she ought to live her life. ]
Are... you hoping for one from someone? [ She looks up at him curiously. ] Is that why, last time, when... [ ... ] Um. Never mind. I probably shouldn't ask. Sorry.
I was, Bernadetta. At the time, I was hoping for a kiss from you.
[He's quiet as he says this, uncharacteristically so, though there is not a trace of doubt. As if he has grown shy about it, yet still manages enough boldness to utter such feelings into being. There is also some vulnerability caving into his expression, the apology from before, some wistfulness, and a dash of the hope he so describes, lingering now into the present.]
It was just happening so fast, and I knew that we were not in our right minds. I did not want there to be any regrets between us, or ruin our friendship. I did not want to take advantage of you and the moment. [His cup hovers so close to his face, as if it could hide it.] But long after we parted since then, and the gaseous effects had dissipated, a rather ignoble part of me kept wishing that I had... practiced indiscretion instead.
Why? [ Her eyes look doubtful, maybe a little concerned. She had a different view - she knew that if it weren't for things like the odd gas, the things they put in certain food or drink or elixir here... she'd never be able to get close to anyone.
At least, if they'd kissed last time, they'd have something to blame. And now - well... ]
You... don't have a reason to want it from me anymore.
Then... if that is the case, why do I still want to?
[Is he overstepping? Should he just shut his big mouth and stop going on and on about kissing? He's already walking himself into a corner, here, being arguably too nosy about who she has kissed, bringing up feelings he has about kissing her when maybe she has moved far past that, possibly finds the idea unpalatable, uncomfortable, but isn't outright telling him so. He gazes at her like she has the power to squash his heart with just a word, and continues, perhaps, making it worse for himself by being his earnest self.]
There is no gas. Nothing suggestible in our tea. [He presses his palm to his heart.] Just... me, looking at you, butterflies in my chest at the thought of getting the chance to seal your lips with a kiss, too... Ah... am I saying too much?
Y-yes! [ she protests on a little squeak, hands lifting to cover her burning cheeks. She'd averted her eyes even before he finished speaking, and even now she doesn't know how she can look at him again. All that is... definitely too much. It's too much! ]
I mean... I guess you already said so earlier, but... I didn't think you really meant it. Not that I thought you were lying! I know you'd never lie. But maybe you didn't want me to feel bad? But you're saying this, and... [ She doesn't know what to do. She looks down and takes a slow breath. ]
If you still want to, I still want to, too. I know that gas was... strange, but... Even if you must think I'm weird now, because of - because of everything here, and at home, and everyone, but... I do like you, you know? You've been more patient with me than most other people would have wanted to be, so... [ A glance up, just to check if he was still looking at her - (he probably is, and she's intimidated beyond belief.) ] What I mean is, I have that feeling too. The... the butterflies. Like you said. Sorry.
[Indeed, he is still looking at her, listening to her every word until he is sure that she's finished saying what she wanted to. Her spouting an affirmation that he was indeed saying too much instilled him with a bit of shock, despite suspecting so, and he began to worry that he'd gone and made a similar mistake.
It hurts a little, not to have his declaration taken seriously. But this is Bernadetta, and she always seemed quick to jump to the worst in people, from doubting positive intentions to outright thinking they were out to get her. That's not her fault. While she's been growing and changing in many ways, some instincts are difficult to disregard. He shouldn't take it personally.
But in the end, she reassures him that he's not alone in wanting to share a kiss. Whether she would still go to the bedroom with him like they had both been insinuating is another matter entirely, but right now... this is more than enough. And if she can be comfortable in sharing simple tokens of physical affection, like hugs and kisses, then it might be easier for her to feel like she can be at ease with him for relying on him for quota, and he could rely on her, too. His smile comes back from a sober retreat to gleam warmly in his liquid sunshine eyes.]
And I will continue to be patient with you until the end. I like you, too. Very much. And I do not think anything less of you for everything that has happened to you. For what is now happening to us...
[A pause, and then... he too averts his eyes down to the table as he gathers his courage.]
[ The problem with all this talk of kissing is that, until now, it's all just been talk. There's been nothing nothing to indicate that actual action would follow - not right this minute. She imagined, maybe, it would happen the next time they're caught in one of the city's tricks. Gas again, or something similar? Something they can't quite escape, and she knows it'll be okay to ask for his help then, because he sincerely wants to kiss her and be with her and help her with things - hasn't he just reassured her of all that now?
But now he's asking to kiss her anyway, setting everything else aside. Even though she's awkward and been jumping to the wrong conclusions all day, even after she'd admitted she's been kissed before. He must truly be okay with all that somehow? Of course he is. It's Ferdinand.
So Bernie nods once, slowly, looking over at him when he's glancing away - until he glances back at her and she nods again - much more resolutely. ]
Okay. Um. Yes! I... [ She chews on her lower lip nervously, afraid she'll say something wrong and send him running this time. What if she did poorly? She won't do poorly. She hopes it'll be something she can think of fondly. ]
I'd really like that.
[ Their little tea table is small. Every time she shifts, she feels her knees touch his, and that only magnifies when she leans forward carefully. One of her hands reaches for his so she can hold and gently pull at the sleeve at his wrist, while the other settles on the surface of the table as she turns her face up expectantly. She might be a klutz, but she's going to actively make sure she spills no tea on either of them today. ]
[Here it comes. His very first kiss! There can be no going back now.
Ferdinand had never pictured it would happen like this, either. In his daydreams it would be in after a dance, or during a romantic stroll through a moonlit garden. It might have even been on the battlefield, tempestuous and dramatic, perhaps something akin to how Bernadetta's lips found Yuri's... but as reality would have it, battle had always been squarely a matter of life or death for him, and even off the battlefield he would be preparing for the next one so tirelessly that he could scarcely focus on pursuing any romantic notions he had. This, however...
...is just as fine as anything he might have envisioned. He forgets the daily duress of Duplicity mandating them to get comfortable engaging in acts far beyond mere kisses even with strangers, that the line down her collared neck means anything, and even that this is coming to a head after a prior interaction he had botched in the heat of the moment and his own nerves. All of his attention is siphoned into Bernadetta herself, the way their legs press as she moves to take his sleeve, how it pulls on his heartstrings when she does... and finally, how charming she looks tilting up at him in invitation to take her sweet little lips...
He is utterly beside himself. Carefully, as if moving even a finger the wrong way could shatter the moment, he leans in to meet her, closes his hand delicately over the wrist belonging to the one fastened to his sleeve, shuts his eyes once he's sure he's aiming true, and fits his mouth against hers like the butterfly of his heart landing upon a flower, her petal-soft lips brushing against such a sensitive place sending an astonishingly powerful sensation through his nerves. His hold on her wrist tightens and trembles. He forgets even to breathe...]
[ The reality might not be quite as perfect as Ferdinand imagines - Bernadetta's lips are not dry, but they are a little chapped from constantly worrying and chewing on the lower one when her thoughts overwhelm her. Her fingers, too, aren't quite so delicate - they're quite calloused from years of obsessive needlework, then bow-faire, then lancework, and stablework. She tastes only of the tea they've both sipped at - certainly nothing special to write stories and songs about, she thinks.
All these thoughts rattle around her head as he kisses her so very gently - and she hopes she isn't a boring or a disappointing kiss at all; she knows for a fact that he must expect something... beautiful. She hopes what she can give him here, in this quiet little teashop in the middle of the day, is... well... just enough.
And... he's very still, isn't he? Was he afraid? She feels his grip tighten on her wrist - so he isn't dead, probably, maybe? - and that spurs her to move. Just a little, a slight slant of her mouth against his, and the barest of movements to open up a fraction so they can share a breath, and then close them again over his lower lip. ]
[He finds himself wanting to linger in this moment, and as she moves, he sighs a breath into his lungs through his nose and hums softly as he appreciates the warmth, the texture of her lips brushing against his, how it fires in his nerves so wonderfully, how they taste like the very tea they concocted together, which is quite poetic. Any and all notions or fantasies about what kissing someone must be like has fallen away and been surmounted by this moment in time, with Bernadetta, who he learned beside, fought battles beside, had the great fortune of getting to befriend as she learned at her pace to come out of her shell a little more. She is so precious to him, and his heart could burst thinking about it.
There does come a point where it feels like it could be going on for a bit too long, and after one deeper press of his lips into hers, he breaks the kiss to look into her eyes, his face flushed and his expression steeped in fondness and wonder.]
I am... so glad. That I got to know you while kissing you, too. Let's get married!
[ He draws away eventually - and Bernie finds she can meet his eyes for a moment. Just for as long as he needs to finish speaking. The moment he's said what he needs to, she turns bright red and looks down. He can't just say things like that and look at her like that! She feels like her heart might explode out of her chest. ]
Oh! I'm really glad too. I... [ She shifts about, bites down on her lower lip nervously, trying to temper the flustered little smile she feels bubbling up from her. ] I thought you might... [ Leave her here, be disappointed, something. ] Well, I'm just really happy you liked it. I think.
[ Her eyes dart up as if to check, as if she'd be able to see whether he liked it or not, just from his expression. Whatever she sees there just makes her smile. ]
... Happy birthday, I suppose. I hope that was a good, extra present.
[Bernadetta's self-conscious little smile she fights as she speaks melts his heart, and he wishes he could see what it might look like if she backed down on suppressing it. There is no indication on Ferdinand's face whatsoever that he disliked it even one bit.]
It was... I feel positively spoiled by you, Bernadetta. [He slides his hand from her wrist to take hers in a gentle squeeze and chuckles at something.] I liked it quite a bit. There is some irony to be found here, though, is there not? My very first kiss, given to me by the woman whose betrothal I resisted so long ago...
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I mean... you know. I bet salves taste and feel gross, and unpleasant. I doubt it'd be nice to have that on your lips.
[ You know what would be nice though?-- no, no. Can't think of that!! Her ears burn and she looks quickly down at her tea, lifting it up so she can purse her lips to blow on it gently. ]
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[And his mind still incessantly hovers, unknowingly in tandem with Bernadetta's, around a certain activity that can be shared lip on lip. One that no doubt must tingle quite sensuously, but... he wouldn't know. He has yet to. And... it's probably a matter of time, at this point.
Goodness! Getting a bit restless, he shifts his leg to bring it closer to the table, but their ankles brush and such simple glancing contact electrifies him like lightning. He tightens his grip on his saucer.]
1/2
[ She looks all set to launch into another excited, unwarranted dump of information on him. One he really didn't ask for, and the thought washes over her quite suddenly. ]
Oh, Bernie, you have to get ahold of yourself. It's his birthday!
2/2
I mean... Um. I... bet they do feel good. Your lips. Or-- or on your lips, rather, actually, if they were hurt, or... or something like that.
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(The secret is that Bernadetta's words are the aphros. She is casting a spell on him!)]
Well! My lips feel even better when they are not hurt. Hahaha...!
[What... What is he saying? Ferdinand's smile at her gets even screwier, and just to assuage his nerves he levels the teacup's rim close to his lips, the brew still a tad too hot for proper enjoyment of it.
It's as though the tension that had risen between them during their last meal together was being revived. Should he do something about it? Or would it be a total faux pas? Is she thinking about the same thing he is, or is he pathetically alone in this?]
Bernadetta... [He lowers his cup back down to the saucer and leans forward on his folded arm, which closes some distance. Is this going to be a bad time? He had already proclaimed his desire to her... loudly, and down the stairs. It is not as if she isn't aware, wouldn't be contemplating the same thing after all of that. He still finds himself unable to ask outright at the moment, so he aims somewhere less vulnerable, voice softening.] Allow me to brace you: I am going to ask you something a little bit... impertinent. On the matter of lips, now that we keep talking about them and I keep thinking about them. Have you ever... kissed anyone before?
[Now that she has been in Duplicity and gotten contracted, it's a question that's more worth asking. Before all of this, it would have been much easier to just assume that she had not. She had always struggled with her social life, the act of holding a simple conversation a challenge he would never truly know how to relate to, even though he tried desperately to empathize. How has this place... changed her, so far?]
it's time for some ✨headcanon✨
Ferdinand was asking difficult questions, but he wasn't asking them out of nowhere. She didn't know where her own thoughts were coming from, either, and... oh, her eyes keep flicking down to his lips and she has to keep looking elsewhere. ]
It's... Maybe. Yes. Here, of course, and... [ She glances up at him again, turning red as she admits something she hasn't said to anyone from home...
Well, no, she told Annette, before she left. If she could tell her, she could probably tell Ferdinand. Right? ] And maybe once or twice, when it got lonely, at home.
[ She twists the fabric of her sweater nervously. It's weird, it feels like admitting to something terribly shameful. Something she shouldn't have done, because if she wasn't unmarriageable before, she certainly is now. ]
I'm sorry, I... I think I should have said so earlier! You probably think I'm no good now.
👀!!!
What? No, I think nothing of the sort about you! And something like this is nothing for you to feel obligated to tell me. It is not as though I am your... your lover, or your future husband, or — anything of that nature to you!
[Why does that kind of sting to say right now? It isn't as though he really feels as though she owes him that kind of information, after all. She is a dear friend, of course, but even dear friends need not tell each other every last private detail about their lives. He had been very content the way that their lives had panned out in actuality, as classmates deepening a bond, as soldiers defending each other and the Emperor and her ideals for a new Adrestria, a new Fodlan. Who knows how fraught they could have been tangled in the marital politics of their parents?
And she was his... betrothed, once upon a time. When he did not want it, was too young to truly want it even though he knew it to be his duty as the next prime minister of the proud Adrestian Empire.
He empties a sigh, as if to deflate some of the impact of this upon him.]
And you are not obligated to tell me who you had kissed, either. Nonetheless, I admit that a certain curiosity burns me now...
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She's uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, fiddling with the stitches of her sweater's hem, as she tries to put her thoughts into order. She's sorry anyway, she feels like she's let him down for some reason, and this is why she tries to keep her distance from him and from Hubert. It feels safer that they not know what she's up to, so she has to agree with his assessment. She's not obligated to tell him anything about that -- so she won't. ]
If... you don't want to know about that, then... what are you curious about?
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You mean... here? In this city?
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I am more curious about people I might know...
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Annette kissed me when we... In that place, with all the testing... [ Last month, with all the experiments. Then she didn't see her again. ]
Um, Yuri did at home too, when things were lonely and dark, during the march to Gronder. [ She could have died there! Everyone wanted the hill she was stationed on, and... she could have died, and the war would have just gone on. ]
Dorothea said I ought to know how it feels, just once, so she did - but that was when we were all still in the academy.
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And then, Yuri... How strange. They had been growing closer, from his own limited perspective, in the sense that Bernadetta would no longer avoid him so much in particular... but it seemed like the passion had been evoked from the comparative despairs brought on by war, poignant and bittersweet. Of course, his focus had been on guarding the frontlines, on the heat of battle, far away from Bernadetta's post. Still, that surprises him as well. And when she admits what Dorothea had done to her, he can't help it: heat rushes to his face, and he can't rightly figure out who he is more jealous of...
A soft, short, and incredulous laugh escapes him, and he shakes his head at himself and lifts the cup back up.]
Why, I had no idea... [He partakes in his first delicate sip, in part to quell his nerves.] To think, someone so prone to seclusion would share in such kisses before I, Ferdinand von Aegir, could even have just one...
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Maybe it's because she ties with two other characters for Most Support Chains In The Game.She frowns a little when he seems to imply that not having one meant... something. ]
It's... it isn't bad, I don't think. If you've never had one. I don't know if I even wanted--... it was just really scary to think about. At first. [ Even with Annette, she'd been very cautious and careful. She thought she'd die from how hard her heart been beating - but once that threshold had been crossed... Here she is, living how Duplicity dictated she ought to live her life. ]
Are... you hoping for one from someone? [ She looks up at him curiously. ] Is that why, last time, when... [ ... ] Um. Never mind. I probably shouldn't ask. Sorry.
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[He's quiet as he says this, uncharacteristically so, though there is not a trace of doubt. As if he has grown shy about it, yet still manages enough boldness to utter such feelings into being. There is also some vulnerability caving into his expression, the apology from before, some wistfulness, and a dash of the hope he so describes, lingering now into the present.]
It was just happening so fast, and I knew that we were not in our right minds. I did not want there to be any regrets between us, or ruin our friendship. I did not want to take advantage of you and the moment. [His cup hovers so close to his face, as if it could hide it.] But long after we parted since then, and the gaseous effects had dissipated, a rather ignoble part of me kept wishing that I had... practiced indiscretion instead.
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At least, if they'd kissed last time, they'd have something to blame. And now - well... ]
You... don't have a reason to want it from me anymore.
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[Is he overstepping? Should he just shut his big mouth and stop going on and on about kissing? He's already walking himself into a corner, here, being arguably too nosy about who she has kissed, bringing up feelings he has about kissing her when maybe she has moved far past that, possibly finds the idea unpalatable, uncomfortable, but isn't outright telling him so. He gazes at her like she has the power to squash his heart with just a word, and continues, perhaps, making it worse for himself by being his earnest self.]
There is no gas. Nothing suggestible in our tea. [He presses his palm to his heart.] Just... me, looking at you, butterflies in my chest at the thought of getting the chance to seal your lips with a kiss, too... Ah... am I saying too much?
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I mean... I guess you already said so earlier, but... I didn't think you really meant it. Not that I thought you were lying! I know you'd never lie. But maybe you didn't want me to feel bad? But you're saying this, and... [ She doesn't know what to do. She looks down and takes a slow breath. ]
If you still want to, I still want to, too. I know that gas was... strange, but... Even if you must think I'm weird now, because of - because of everything here, and at home, and everyone, but... I do like you, you know? You've been more patient with me than most other people would have wanted to be, so... [ A glance up, just to check if he was still looking at her - (he probably is, and she's intimidated beyond belief.) ] What I mean is, I have that feeling too. The... the butterflies. Like you said. Sorry.
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It hurts a little, not to have his declaration taken seriously. But this is Bernadetta, and she always seemed quick to jump to the worst in people, from doubting positive intentions to outright thinking they were out to get her. That's not her fault. While she's been growing and changing in many ways, some instincts are difficult to disregard. He shouldn't take it personally.
But in the end, she reassures him that he's not alone in wanting to share a kiss. Whether she would still go to the bedroom with him like they had both been insinuating is another matter entirely, but right now... this is more than enough. And if she can be comfortable in sharing simple tokens of physical affection, like hugs and kisses, then it might be easier for her to feel like she can be at ease with him for relying on him for quota, and he could rely on her, too. His smile comes back from a sober retreat to gleam warmly in his liquid sunshine eyes.]
And I will continue to be patient with you until the end. I like you, too. Very much. And I do not think anything less of you for everything that has happened to you. For what is now happening to us...
[A pause, and then... he too averts his eyes down to the table as he gathers his courage.]
May I... ...kiss you?
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But now he's asking to kiss her anyway, setting everything else aside. Even though she's awkward and been jumping to the wrong conclusions all day, even after she'd admitted she's been kissed before. He must truly be okay with all that somehow? Of course he is. It's Ferdinand.
So Bernie nods once, slowly, looking over at him when he's glancing away - until he glances back at her and she nods again - much more resolutely. ]
Okay. Um. Yes! I... [ She chews on her lower lip nervously, afraid she'll say something wrong and send him running this time. What if she did poorly? She won't do poorly. She hopes it'll be something she can think of fondly. ]
I'd really like that.
[ Their little tea table is small. Every time she shifts, she feels her knees touch his, and that only magnifies when she leans forward carefully. One of her hands reaches for his so she can hold and gently pull at the sleeve at his wrist, while the other settles on the surface of the table as she turns her face up expectantly. She might be a klutz, but she's going to actively make sure she spills no tea on either of them today. ]
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Ferdinand had never pictured it would happen like this, either. In his daydreams it would be in after a dance, or during a romantic stroll through a moonlit garden. It might have even been on the battlefield, tempestuous and dramatic, perhaps something akin to how Bernadetta's lips found Yuri's... but as reality would have it, battle had always been squarely a matter of life or death for him, and even off the battlefield he would be preparing for the next one so tirelessly that he could scarcely focus on pursuing any romantic notions he had. This, however...
...is just as fine as anything he might have envisioned. He forgets the daily duress of Duplicity mandating them to get comfortable engaging in acts far beyond mere kisses even with strangers, that the line down her collared neck means anything, and even that this is coming to a head after a prior interaction he had botched in the heat of the moment and his own nerves. All of his attention is siphoned into Bernadetta herself, the way their legs press as she moves to take his sleeve, how it pulls on his heartstrings when she does... and finally, how charming she looks tilting up at him in invitation to take her sweet little lips...
He is utterly beside himself. Carefully, as if moving even a finger the wrong way could shatter the moment, he leans in to meet her, closes his hand delicately over the wrist belonging to the one fastened to his sleeve, shuts his eyes once he's sure he's aiming true, and fits his mouth against hers like the butterfly of his heart landing upon a flower, her petal-soft lips brushing against such a sensitive place sending an astonishingly powerful sensation through his nerves. His hold on her wrist tightens and trembles. He forgets even to breathe...]
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All these thoughts rattle around her head as he kisses her so very gently - and she hopes she isn't a boring or a disappointing kiss at all; she knows for a fact that he must expect something... beautiful. She hopes what she can give him here, in this quiet little teashop in the middle of the day, is... well... just enough.
And... he's very still, isn't he? Was he afraid? She feels his grip tighten on her wrist - so he isn't dead, probably, maybe? - and that spurs her to move. Just a little, a slight slant of her mouth against his, and the barest of movements to open up a fraction so they can share a breath, and then close them again over his lower lip. ]
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There does come a point where it feels like it could be going on for a bit too long, and after one deeper press of his lips into hers, he breaks the kiss to look into her eyes, his face flushed and his expression steeped in fondness and wonder.]
I am... so glad. That I got to know you while kissing you, too.
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Oh! I'm really glad too. I... [ She shifts about, bites down on her lower lip nervously, trying to temper the flustered little smile she feels bubbling up from her. ] I thought you might... [ Leave her here, be disappointed, something. ] Well, I'm just really happy you liked it. I think.
[ Her eyes dart up as if to check, as if she'd be able to see whether he liked it or not, just from his expression. Whatever she sees there just makes her smile. ]
... Happy birthday, I suppose. I hope that was a good, extra present.
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It was... I feel positively spoiled by you, Bernadetta. [He slides his hand from her wrist to take hers in a gentle squeeze and chuckles at something.] I liked it quite a bit. There is some irony to be found here, though, is there not? My very first kiss, given to me by the woman whose betrothal I resisted so long ago...
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