[ It's a comfort to see her smile, but not nearly as much of one as he'd hoped. It does give him reason for gladness to hear that she can at least look back on their encounter without feeling as though she'd taken advantage of him, and yet, it still doesn't feel like enough. No, it's not nearly enough, and that is still unbearable to him.
His mind races with a million thoughts. Would she still be so full of self-doubt if he'd properly courted her first, or if they'd at least had time to talk things over before getting into it? Would it have helped if he'd taken his time more, no matter how pent up and impatient the both of them had become? For a moment, it feels as though he might be swallowed up by these what-ifs, these doubts plaguing the recesses of his mind.
But there's that sweet smile, not as happy as he'd like, but a smile nonetheless. And there's that lovely voice, thanking him for something that warrants no thanks whatsoever; calling herself faded, when nothing could be further from the truth in his eyes.
He can't bear it any longer. He can't make the years of loneliness and doubt go away, but he can do his damned best to try and make sure there aren't any more of them. He steps from the bed and closes the distance between them until their chests meet, and one hand moves to take hers. ]
Faded? Manuela, I have been unable to take my eyes off of you since I was scarcely even a man. You are more beautiful now than ever, and I will not rest until you have no choice but to concede the point.
[ And with that, he brings her hand up to his mouth. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses her fingers just beneath her knuckles, then presses a second kiss to the back of her hand. He might not be able to convince her, but at the very least, he can convince her that he won't be dissuaded. ]
[ for one cruel, awful moment โ manuela almost believes him. his look is so sincere, his touch so gentle. for a time his words create around them a bubble damn near impenetrable, blocking out years and years of hard truths, and manuela feels blossom inside her chest something that feels a lot like hope.
but just like that, the color drains from her face. the light flickers out in her eyes.
it's a funny thing, isn't it? how manuela has longed to hear such sentiments for over a decade now, bent herself repeatedly to new lows in vain attempts to appeal for them, yet in the here and now of finally getting what she wants, she cannot even fathom allowing herself to believe them. ]
More beautiful...?
[ oh, but she doesn't mean to be cruel or dismissive, especially not when he looks upon her so earnestly. but she cannot help but scoff. such pretty words, wrapped in such a handsome package. but for her? preposterous. what has she done to earn them? what has changed that she should receive them now? ]
What madness are you spouting? Do you even hear yourself?
[ and then, all at once, it clicks. pieces of a skewed puzzle slotting themselves into a crude picture, one she honestly should have expected from the start, given where they are. what they're made to endure. ]
It's this place, isn't it? You ingested something, or come across a pheromone. Tell me โ did you notice any peculiar scents right before I arrived?
[ yes, surely that's the cause. how much easier it is a pill to swallow, to think that none of this is at all sincere. hastily, she tugs at the hand he holds so tenderly, glancing aside. ]
Have a seat, Ferdinand, you are surely under some sort of spell.
[ Ferdinand has struggled, historically, to get through to people who struggle with their self-esteem. His first, clumsy efforts to make Bernadetta comfortable in Garreg Mach, for instance, earned him a sprained wrist. His attempts to cheer up Marianne had been similarly disastrous, albeit not physically so. Perhaps seeing Manuela as he has for so long has made him similarly poorly equipped to navigate her feelings, and hearing her reject his sentiments so casually stings his pride more than he'd care to admit.
His expression, then, must be truly puzzled as she tries to rationalize what he's saying. He tires to get a word in edgewise, but he's not able to until she pulls him aside. ]
A spell? I assure you, Manuela, I am perfectly of my own mind right now.
[ Still, the easiest thing for him to do is to allow her to tug his hand away and follow the momentum to the edge of his bed, where he takes a seat as directed. He furrows his brow, frustrated with his inability to convince her that everything he felt and everything he said was genuine. ]
I know there are substances here that can make someone more... amorous. But even if I were under their effect now, which I do not think I am, it would not matter.
[ He looks up at her from the bed, not trying to look like a scolded puppy, but probably resembling one all the same. ]
Everything that happened between us... for me, that was entirely natural. The only aphrodisiac I needed was you.
[ oh, how she hates to see that look on his face. how she hates to know she's the one who put it there. but it is a necessary cruelty, if it means he will learn this lesson sooner rather than later.
though he can be so utterly distracting, can't he, when he goes and says such wonderful things like that. manuela hastens to fight back her own color rising to her cheeks; the memory of their time together remains a vivid one, one she can still sometimes feel like a phantom touch on her body. how fortunate that, beneath the knit of her dress, he cannot possibly see how her thighs clench together in a vain attempt for reprieve. ]
...Y-Yes, well. It's quite easy to get caught up in the moment. And โ given it was your first, and how brazenly I threw myself at you... [ yes, see, all these awful, wonderful things he's saying could very easily be explained away. ] Is it any wonder you reacted the way you did?
[ with him seated, she positions herself before him. there is enough of a difference in their heights that he would need to tip his head back just so he can meet her eyes (and avoid a direct-look at her chest). she lifts a hand to his brow, feeling for a fever. elevated heart rate and temperature are sure signs of an aphrodisiac working its way through his system. ]
You're flushed.
[ warm, too. of course, that could be due to his embarrassment, from feeling rebuked or even chastised. manuela hardly means either of those things, but it's important he knows how easily one's body could be manipulated in this place. ferdinand is too kind, too generous โ he is easy prey for the whims of this hotel, who preys on soft souls like his who are always overflowing with affection and sincerity.
she moves her hand down, placing it over his heart, where his loose shirt parts on an undone button. the skin beneath her fingers is warm to the touch. ]
You've done little more than sit and stand but your heart is racing, and your breathing is short. Clear signs of an aphrodisiac. Likely, you're erect, too.
[ she lowers her gaze to his lap โ his pants are of a light enough material (and ferdinand himself is far too large to be discreet) that there would certainly be some telltale tentingโ
[ No matter how much she might insist otherwise, Manuela still has a very powerful presence. Powerful enough that as she moves about, checking him over, he can do little more than sit and allow it. It's actually a bit charming how she slips into her role as a healer, attending to him like he was her patient. But he also knows that in this particular instance, her instincts are wrong. He feels very much himself. His racing heart? His flushed skin? That's all because of her.
Of course, there's a bit more to the flush on his cheeks when he realizes exactly where her gaze has fallen. Instinctively, he presses his legs together, averting his eyes. He doesn't even know what he's embarrassed about, given that in the current situation, there isn't anything to hide. But maybe he wishes that there were, that he could entice her to sit upon his lap and ride him until they're both too sore to move.
Of course, if such thoughts remain in his mind, then he's likely to grow hard anyway, but that's something he's not trying to think about right now. ]
Manuela... it is not just about sex. It has never been just about sex for me.
[ He swallows the nervous lump forming in his throat and reaches for her hand by the wrist, and though his touch is gentle, he firmly keeps her hand over his chest so that she might feel his heartbeat. He locks his eyes with hers, despite how frightening it feels to be so vulnerable and forthright. In the past, he'd hid his interest behind poetry and flattery. This is the most direct he's been with her, and it takes a good bit of willpower for him to even get the words out. ]
My heart raced just like this when we were alone at Garreg Mach and I read poetry to you. And it raced just like this when you gave me the honor of a dance with you.
[ His fingers spread so that they can lace between hers, then close fully. He can feel the subtle signs of age on her well-kept hands, but those aren't unattractive qualities to him. There's a quiet strength to them, and ultimately, it just accentuates her femininity even more to him. ]
And... if you will forgive me for being so crass... our scene together was far from the first time you have made me... [ He clears his throat a little, clearly embarrassed with himself. ] ...erect.
[ there had been a moment there, certainly, wherein manuela felt her own face flush with the heat of embarrassment. gone, suddenly, was the clinical air of her professionalism as a healer, and left behind in its place was the rather humbling effect of being so very clearly proven wrong.
and here she had been so sure... or rather, she had been so convinced the reason for all of this could be so easily justified by the hotel's particular brand of cruelty.
and yet here ferdinand sits, flaccid as can be. and while that might seem telling of a lack of attraction, the implication is very much the opposite, isn't it? how it all just leads more credence to his words. how it forces her to stop and consider them than spare herself the struggle. ]
Back in Garreg Mach...?
[ ...no. certainly that can't be true. does he truly mean to say that he had felt attraction โ no, perhaps even affection? โ for her since even before she had spread her legs for him?
yes, of course she had known of his little infatuation. and yes, of course she is well aware of what such feelings would stir in a hot-blooded young man. but the way he speaks, the way he looks at her. does he even realize how all this earnestness makes it sound?
oh, damn ferdinand von aegir. damn the entirety of his name and his lineage. what is she meant to do with this knowledge? how could she possibly feel anything less than overwhelmed by such girlish hope? ]
Ferdinand... What are you even saying?
[ she ought to tug her hand away. she ought to shut this down, faster, but hadn't she always been just a little too quick to succumb to the worst parts of herself? so instead her hand curls, clutching at the fabric of his shirt. to pull him in or push him away, even she isn't entirely sure yet. ]
You were barely older than a boy when we first met in the academy. And that war ripped what else of your young adulthood you could have had โ but you're far away from it now. And far away from Fรณdlan.
[ far away from responsibilities, and expectations, and the horse-blinders he'd put on himself to be steadfast in his goals. ]
Spend more than a week here and you will see... You'll see how small your world had been before now. However much of it you say I encompass โ it will only diminish the more you experience. The more you will see how little I compare.
[ Despite the content of her words and all of his stumbling when it comes to finding the right words for her, Ferdinand hears in Manuela's voice something akin to pleading, that she wants to be proven wrong. Of course, there is plenty that she says that is a perfectly salient point. Even in his short time at the resort, he's already experienced things he hadn't planned on experiencing until he was, at the very least, properly courting someone, if not married. And the very idea of monogamy in a place like this seems, even to him, utterly unrealistic.
But as he looks into Manuela's eyes, he doesn't see the thorny, overgrown rose who's well past her prime that she might think he would see. Nor does he see the idealized version of himself that he all but worshipped as a young man. He sees her for her vulnerability, her vices, her strengths, her triumphs and regrets โ and, whether she cares to admit it or not, the wisdom that only a woman of her experiences could truly possess.
He strokes the back of her hand with his thumb as he holds it, and the other hand pulls her in gently but firmly by the waist. He'll not accept putting any more space between them now, not when he needs her to understand just how much he means every word. ]
Love is a unique thing, Manuela. The more of it you give, the more you find you have. It changes and grows, as do the people who feel it.
[ His gaze locks with hers, and though his heart races at how daunting a prospect it is, he says words that he never dreamed he would actually say to her, at least not in so direct a method. ]
I love you, Manuela. That love has also changed and grown over time just as I have. Even when I was just a boy, I accepted when I was a young man that some other lucky suitor would likely sweep you off of your feet, but so long as you were happy, that was enough for me. Yet now, I see myself in a fortunate position I could only have imagined.
[ There's a maturity in his voice that's, perhaps, a lot more introspective than what she might have expected from him. She's seldom seen him at anything but his most boisterous and confident, but there's a vulnerability he's sharing with her, just as she's shared hers with him. ]
I know the nature of this place makes commitment... troublesome. I am not asking you to only share yourself with me. Your world is every bit as open now as mine. But I am asking you to believe me โ that no matter how much my world grows, your place in it and the affection I have for you will only grow as well.
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His mind races with a million thoughts. Would she still be so full of self-doubt if he'd properly courted her first, or if they'd at least had time to talk things over before getting into it? Would it have helped if he'd taken his time more, no matter how pent up and impatient the both of them had become? For a moment, it feels as though he might be swallowed up by these what-ifs, these doubts plaguing the recesses of his mind.
But there's that sweet smile, not as happy as he'd like, but a smile nonetheless. And there's that lovely voice, thanking him for something that warrants no thanks whatsoever; calling herself faded, when nothing could be further from the truth in his eyes.
He can't bear it any longer. He can't make the years of loneliness and doubt go away, but he can do his damned best to try and make sure there aren't any more of them. He steps from the bed and closes the distance between them until their chests meet, and one hand moves to take hers. ]
Faded? Manuela, I have been unable to take my eyes off of you since I was scarcely even a man. You are more beautiful now than ever, and I will not rest until you have no choice but to concede the point.
[ And with that, he brings her hand up to his mouth. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses her fingers just beneath her knuckles, then presses a second kiss to the back of her hand. He might not be able to convince her, but at the very least, he can convince her that he won't be dissuaded. ]
no subject
but just like that, the color drains from her face. the light flickers out in her eyes.
it's a funny thing, isn't it? how manuela has longed to hear such sentiments for over a decade now, bent herself repeatedly to new lows in vain attempts to appeal for them, yet in the here and now of finally getting what she wants, she cannot even fathom allowing herself to believe them. ]
More beautiful...?
[ oh, but she doesn't mean to be cruel or dismissive, especially not when he looks upon her so earnestly. but she cannot help but scoff. such pretty words, wrapped in such a handsome package. but for her? preposterous. what has she done to earn them? what has changed that she should receive them now? ]
What madness are you spouting? Do you even hear yourself?
[ and then, all at once, it clicks. pieces of a skewed puzzle slotting themselves into a crude picture, one she honestly should have expected from the start, given where they are. what they're made to endure. ]
It's this place, isn't it? You ingested something, or come across a pheromone. Tell me โ did you notice any peculiar scents right before I arrived?
[ yes, surely that's the cause. how much easier it is a pill to swallow, to think that none of this is at all sincere. hastily, she tugs at the hand he holds so tenderly, glancing aside. ]
Have a seat, Ferdinand, you are surely under some sort of spell.
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His expression, then, must be truly puzzled as she tries to rationalize what he's saying. He tires to get a word in edgewise, but he's not able to until she pulls him aside. ]
A spell? I assure you, Manuela, I am perfectly of my own mind right now.
[ Still, the easiest thing for him to do is to allow her to tug his hand away and follow the momentum to the edge of his bed, where he takes a seat as directed. He furrows his brow, frustrated with his inability to convince her that everything he felt and everything he said was genuine. ]
I know there are substances here that can make someone more... amorous. But even if I were under their effect now, which I do not think I am, it would not matter.
[ He looks up at her from the bed, not trying to look like a scolded puppy, but probably resembling one all the same. ]
Everything that happened between us... for me, that was entirely natural. The only aphrodisiac I needed was you.
no subject
though he can be so utterly distracting, can't he, when he goes and says such wonderful things like that. manuela hastens to fight back her own color rising to her cheeks; the memory of their time together remains a vivid one, one she can still sometimes feel like a phantom touch on her body. how fortunate that, beneath the knit of her dress, he cannot possibly see how her thighs clench together in a vain attempt for reprieve. ]
...Y-Yes, well. It's quite easy to get caught up in the moment. And โ given it was your first, and how brazenly I threw myself at you... [ yes, see, all these awful, wonderful things he's saying could very easily be explained away. ] Is it any wonder you reacted the way you did?
[ with him seated, she positions herself before him. there is enough of a difference in their heights that he would need to tip his head back just so he can meet her eyes (and avoid a direct-look at her chest). she lifts a hand to his brow, feeling for a fever. elevated heart rate and temperature are sure signs of an aphrodisiac working its way through his system. ]
You're flushed.
[ warm, too. of course, that could be due to his embarrassment, from feeling rebuked or even chastised. manuela hardly means either of those things, but it's important he knows how easily one's body could be manipulated in this place. ferdinand is too kind, too generous โ he is easy prey for the whims of this hotel, who preys on soft souls like his who are always overflowing with affection and sincerity.
she moves her hand down, placing it over his heart, where his loose shirt parts on an undone button. the skin beneath her fingers is warm to the touch. ]
You've done little more than sit and stand but your heart is racing, and your breathing is short. Clear signs of an aphrodisiac. Likely, you're erect, too.
[ she lowers her gaze to his lap โ his pants are of a light enough material (and ferdinand himself is far too large to be discreet) that there would certainly be some telltale tentingโ
oh. ]
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Of course, there's a bit more to the flush on his cheeks when he realizes exactly where her gaze has fallen. Instinctively, he presses his legs together, averting his eyes. He doesn't even know what he's embarrassed about, given that in the current situation, there isn't anything to hide. But maybe he wishes that there were, that he could entice her to sit upon his lap and ride him until they're both too sore to move.
Of course, if such thoughts remain in his mind, then he's likely to grow hard anyway, but that's something he's not trying to think about right now. ]
Manuela... it is not just about sex. It has never been just about sex for me.
[ He swallows the nervous lump forming in his throat and reaches for her hand by the wrist, and though his touch is gentle, he firmly keeps her hand over his chest so that she might feel his heartbeat. He locks his eyes with hers, despite how frightening it feels to be so vulnerable and forthright. In the past, he'd hid his interest behind poetry and flattery. This is the most direct he's been with her, and it takes a good bit of willpower for him to even get the words out. ]
My heart raced just like this when we were alone at Garreg Mach and I read poetry to you. And it raced just like this when you gave me the honor of a dance with you.
[ His fingers spread so that they can lace between hers, then close fully. He can feel the subtle signs of age on her well-kept hands, but those aren't unattractive qualities to him. There's a quiet strength to them, and ultimately, it just accentuates her femininity even more to him. ]
And... if you will forgive me for being so crass... our scene together was far from the first time you have made me... [ He clears his throat a little, clearly embarrassed with himself. ] ...erect.
no subject
and here she had been so sure... or rather, she had been so convinced the reason for all of this could be so easily justified by the hotel's particular brand of cruelty.
and yet here ferdinand sits, flaccid as can be. and while that might seem telling of a lack of attraction, the implication is very much the opposite, isn't it? how it all just leads more credence to his words. how it forces her to stop and consider them than spare herself the struggle. ]
Back in Garreg Mach...?
[ ...no. certainly that can't be true. does he truly mean to say that he had felt attraction โ no, perhaps even affection? โ for her since even before she had spread her legs for him?
yes, of course she had known of his little infatuation. and yes, of course she is well aware of what such feelings would stir in a hot-blooded young man. but the way he speaks, the way he looks at her. does he even realize how all this earnestness makes it sound?
oh, damn ferdinand von aegir. damn the entirety of his name and his lineage. what is she meant to do with this knowledge? how could she possibly feel anything less than overwhelmed by such girlish hope? ]
Ferdinand... What are you even saying?
[ she ought to tug her hand away. she ought to shut this down, faster, but hadn't she always been just a little too quick to succumb to the worst parts of herself? so instead her hand curls, clutching at the fabric of his shirt. to pull him in or push him away, even she isn't entirely sure yet. ]
You were barely older than a boy when we first met in the academy. And that war ripped what else of your young adulthood you could have had โ but you're far away from it now. And far away from Fรณdlan.
[ far away from responsibilities, and expectations, and the horse-blinders he'd put on himself to be steadfast in his goals. ]
Spend more than a week here and you will see... You'll see how small your world had been before now. However much of it you say I encompass โ it will only diminish the more you experience. The more you will see how little I compare.
no subject
But as he looks into Manuela's eyes, he doesn't see the thorny, overgrown rose who's well past her prime that she might think he would see. Nor does he see the idealized version of himself that he all but worshipped as a young man. He sees her for her vulnerability, her vices, her strengths, her triumphs and regrets โ and, whether she cares to admit it or not, the wisdom that only a woman of her experiences could truly possess.
He strokes the back of her hand with his thumb as he holds it, and the other hand pulls her in gently but firmly by the waist. He'll not accept putting any more space between them now, not when he needs her to understand just how much he means every word. ]
Love is a unique thing, Manuela. The more of it you give, the more you find you have. It changes and grows, as do the people who feel it.
[ His gaze locks with hers, and though his heart races at how daunting a prospect it is, he says words that he never dreamed he would actually say to her, at least not in so direct a method. ]
I love you, Manuela. That love has also changed and grown over time just as I have. Even when I was just a boy, I accepted when I was a young man that some other lucky suitor would likely sweep you off of your feet, but so long as you were happy, that was enough for me. Yet now, I see myself in a fortunate position I could only have imagined.
[ There's a maturity in his voice that's, perhaps, a lot more introspective than what she might have expected from him. She's seldom seen him at anything but his most boisterous and confident, but there's a vulnerability he's sharing with her, just as she's shared hers with him. ]
I know the nature of this place makes commitment... troublesome. I am not asking you to only share yourself with me. Your world is every bit as open now as mine. But I am asking you to believe me โ that no matter how much my world grows, your place in it and the affection I have for you will only grow as well.