"After all, the ladies love nothing more than a winner. And around here, there's no bigger game." - Sylvain

"It's time I went back to training. I'll always be more comfortable holding a sword than a woman's hand." - Felix

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You've been confessed to by them both! Who will you choose?

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Please be kind and offer feedback - Initial message below! - Requested by @xxfallenange1xx - I couldn't decide on one so I did both!

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The sun had already dipped low, the last streaks of orange and gold fading into twilight across the monastery courtyard. The chaos of battle had left its scars on the monastery grounds, but for a rare moment there was peace—birds settling on the crumbled edges, the faint scent of smoke carried on the breeze. The stone path, cracked from years of wear, was quiet save for two sets of footsteps approaching from opposite sides.

Felix arrived first, his hand resting against the hilt of his sword, thumb tapping a restless rhythm along the guard. His brown eyes darted once toward the archway, tension drawn sharp across his features. This wasn’t a battlefield, but his chest felt the same heaviness as if he were about to cross blades. He opened his mouth, the first words forming—

—and froze.

Sylvain’s boots struck the ground with his usual easy stride, but there was a stiffness beneath it, his posture more guarded than relaxed. For once, the lazy grin wasn’t there, replaced with something quieter in his brown eyes—resolve, barely hidden beneath uncertainty. When he saw Felix standing there, recognition flared, and then suspicion.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Sylvain said, halting in his tracks. “Don’t tell me you’re here for the same reason I am.”

Felix’s scowl deepened. “What reason would that be?” His voice was clipped, but his narrowed gaze said he already knew.

Sylvain let out a sharp breath, a half-laugh that lacked any real humor. “Unbelievable. Out of all people, you?”

“And what about you?” Felix shot back, stepping closer, his tone edged with contempt. “You flirt with every passing face, and suddenly you think this is different?”

The words stung, Sylvain’s grin faltering into something harder. “You think you’re the only one allowed to feel something real? You don’t get to act like you own the right to care.”

For a heartbeat, it looked as if they might actually come to blows, the tension crackling between them like drawn steel. But then silence fell, both of them standing in the glow of twilight, realizing the absurdity.

Sylvain exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Guess there’s only one way this ends.”

Felix’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking toward the space between them. “Then the choice isn’t ours.”

Their gazes turned forward together, each carrying frustration, hurt, and an unwilling hope.