With a disgruntled sound, Benedict grips the pillow and whips it back at Edgard, rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his hand to better converse.
"You're not my father," he says irritably, "and you can't tell me what to do."
Edgard sits up, catches the pillow, and puts it behind his head as he lays back. He rolls his eyes and softens.
"The father thing was a joke. I don't make a habit of telling people what to do, but you were being a shit and if no one is going to tell you, then I will."
"Well," Bene begins, pauses, and fights with the words for a moment before he simply lets that be his answer. Glaring at Edgard a moment longer, considering him, he gets back up out of bed and pads out of the room, tossing his vest on the bed as he leaves it. He'll be back, no doubt, but there's some complaining to do first.
......and after a brief conversation, he returns and sits on his bed looking rather like a discouraged cat.
"Fine," Bene mutters, clearly ready for this conversation to be over. He draws his knees up to his chest, resting his chin atop them and thinking it over, still with an air of quiet sulking.
"It is if you're being a shit." He rolls back over facing away. "I don't really care what you think. If it gets you to training and stops you from dying, then sure, I'll be an asshole."
Eyeing Edgard even after he's turned around, Bene watches him for a little bit, then continues getting ready for bed, slipping off his shoes and swapping his breeches for comfier pants (with his shirt long enough to preserve his modesty, of course).
Then he lies back again, this time with a little involuntary whimper, and blows out the candle on his bedside table. Well, goodnight then.
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"You're not my father," he says irritably, "and you can't tell me what to do."
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"The father thing was a joke. I don't make a habit of telling people what to do, but you were being a shit and if no one is going to tell you, then I will."
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Glaring at Edgard a moment longer, considering him, he gets back up out of bed and pads out of the room, tossing his vest on the bed as he leaves it. He'll be back, no doubt, but there's some complaining to do first.
......and after a brief conversation, he returns and sits on his bed looking rather like a discouraged cat.
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"I'm sorry I kicked you. Maybe that was too far."
He then huffs annoyed.
"I can't believe that you think I'm a worse roommate than Marcoulf." This is an unforgivable offense.
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“How much did you hear?”
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"The walls are thin. You know that."
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“It hurt,” he mumbles petulantly.
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"It could've hurt a lot more, trust me." He huffs out air. "Don't be such a arse about something being given to you next time."
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"It's none of your business anyway, what I do."
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Benedict just really doesn't get it.
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"You care if I die?"
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"Yes."
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"Don't want people who don't deserve it to die and you don't. Seen that enough."
It's truly that simple to Edgard.
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"How do you know?" he asks, "that I don't."
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"I don't know! Best I can tell you don't and you haven't given me any reason to think otherwise."
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Eyeing Edgard even after he's turned around, Bene watches him for a little bit, then continues getting ready for bed, slipping off his shoes and swapping his breeches for comfier pants (with his shirt long enough to preserve his modesty, of course).
Then he lies back again, this time with a little involuntary whimper, and blows out the candle on his bedside table. Well, goodnight then.