Work Text:
Airports never sat right with Ingrid, not that there was anything wrong with airports, just that they have the lingering smell of stale air, jet fuel, and the boredom of travelers with long layovers. It made her queasy. She checked her phone one twenty-four in the afternoon, She still had about thirty minutes before Sylvain’s flight landed.
Four years ago he left for college, and instead of going to Garreg Mach University like the rest of their childhood friends, Sylvain’s father insisted he be shipped off to some international school in Sreng. He visited whenever he could; on holidays, long weekends, spring break, he always came home. That, and he was addicted to social media. Add that to the relentless barrage of texts, snaps, and phone calls. There was nothing about Sylvain’s life that Ingrid didn’t know.
No amount of social media or life updates replaced actually having him here though. Didn’t replace the cinnamon and coffe smell of his cologne, or the way he would look at here when he didn’t think she would notice, or the feeling of his lips on hers. Nothing replaced the tender way he had asked her permission to kiss her, or the way he looked at her and asked if they could be something more than friends.
Ingrid thought of that night, two years ago at the annual Fraldarius winter gathering: Ingrid had stepped out into the cold winter air. She could immediately feel it on the tips of her ears and her nose, but she didn’t care. She leans against the ledge of the patio and watches her breath swirl into brisk clouds. Snow sat heavy on the Fraldarius estate. Trees stooped low, lazily bearing its weight and the lawn sat buried in a field of white. Ingrid loved the sound of snow, the way it dampened everything around it. It made her feel calm, even when the boisterous laughter of three man children and the rest of the party guests emanated from the inside. She smiled at herself, glad that everyone was home.
The grating of the sliding door sounded behind her as the voices inside grew louder and then muffled again as it was closed behind whoever stepped out.
“You ok Ing? You’re missing all the fun,” Sylvain stepped up next to her and blew into his hands, “Damn it’s cold,”
“Well no duh it is the middle of winter in Farghus,” she waited a moment before answering his question, “I just wanted to get some fresh air, too much to drink too quickly”
“Well we did all agree to take a shot every time Dimitri and Byleth said something sickly sweet to each other. Though I don’t think any of us knew exactly what we were signing up for. At this rate we will run out of alcohol before ten.”
They stood there together in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. “So, how is it up in Sreng? Like, how is it really?” Ingrid gave him her best, don’t give me any B.S. look and waited for his reply. She knew Sylvain, knew how to read him and knew when there was more to what he was actually saying.
“It’s...nice. The classes are interesting, the people are kinder to me than I would expect given the history between there and here, and the food Ingrid the food. You would love it. They have these little meat pies that are so tiny,” he held out his hand as is to demonstrate just how small they are, “They taste so good, I eat myself silly on them whenever I can.” She giggled and when she looked up she could see the wry smile that had taken over his lips.
“That sounds very good Sylvain,” she took a chance and leaned into him, “tell me more,” he does.
He told her about class, his social life, all things that he has already told everyone else but to her he also admitted to the little details that he left out. How the date he went on before coming home just felt like she was trying to get some sort of bragging rights for hooking up with Sylvain Gautier. About how he may have drank a little too much by himself again, or how frustrating therapy is at times when he doesn’t feel like he has made any progress undoing the damage Miklan and his father did to him.
They talked and forgot about the cold, arms threaded together and her head on his shoulder. At some point Mercedes came out to check on them, “You two O.K. out here? It is pretty cold outside.”
Sylvain is the first to acknowledge her, “Oh ya sorry Mercie, we’ll be in in just a sec! C’mon In-”
Mercedes quickly cut in, “It’s fine I just didn't want you two to catch a cold so I bought a blanket,” as she walked over and draped the fabric over the two of them Ingrid swore she could see an mischievous glint in her eyes, “You two take your time, I know things can get a little hectic inside” Mercedes slipped back inside, and closed the sliding door and the blinds behind her.
The both pulled the blanket tight around them, huddled even closer together. The blanket helps, but it did little to chase away the numbing cold that had begun to creep into Ingrid’s toes. She stood there feeling the heat coming off of Sylvain. She dared to look at him and was surprised to find him staring up into the sky. They stood like that for a moment, her looking at him and him looking at the stars, before he said something that she already knew, “I’m lonely Ingrid. Up in Sreng I don’t really have friends, not like I do here. I feel like everything I do there is being watched and judged. I just want to curl up sometimes and stop. I miss this,” he gestured vaguely around, “I miss my friends, I miss home,”
“Sylvain,” Ingrid took his hand in hers and he let out a long sigh before looking at her. She met his gaze.
“I miss you Ingrid,” She waited for him to say that he missed Dimitri, and Felix and the others too. He doesn’t. She could no longer excuse the red of her cheeks to the cold. The way he looked at her, she felt it, twisting in her chest.
“Ingrid-,” his voice was low, it held none of the usual polish he put on it. It was laid bare, vulnerable. “Can I kiss you?”
Ingrid looked into his eyes, she looked for some sort of joke, a flirty ‘just kidding’, something . The only thing she found was Sylvain. Ingrid couldn't hear herself whisper, “Yes,”
She felt calluses on his hand as he cupped her face and pulled her into him. His lips were soft, she could taste the sweet spice of mulled wine as she melted into him. Her arms slid around his neck and his dropped to her waist. He hummed into her lips, a deep vibrating in his chest that resonated through her. In that moment she decided she could stay like this forever.
Sylvain finally pulled away, she tried to chase his lips with hers but his height forced her to break off. They stood there, Ingrid was unable to put words to what she felt. Sylvain spoke timid and reserved, a far cry from his usual self "Ingrid I was wondering- no that's not how I want to say this. Ok let me try again. Ingrid I like you, like really really like you. I think I have for a long time and I just hadn't realized it until I was forced away from you."
Ingrid stopped him with a tilt of her head, "What are you trying to say Sylvain?"
"...That I like the thought of us, and I want to be more than just friends Ing,"
"Well if that's what you want then you better kiss me again,"
Sylvain looked at her, processed, smiled, and then kissed her again. She smiled right back.
Ingrid checked her phone again, one thirty-two, sighing she tucked it back away. She hated waiting.
As it turns out the universe hated Ingrid. For the last two years it seemed to do everything in its power to keep them apart. Sylvain had gone back to school in Sreng a few weeks after the party and was immediately swept into a cushy government internship at the embassy in Sreng. Any free time that he might have had went with him. He would still send texts when he could but no more until three in the morning phone calls and no more visits home.
She was proud of him, finally putting that brilliant mind and quick tongue to good use. It helped that she knew the work made him happy, despite all the responsibility and the crazy hours. He was also damn good at the whole politician thing. The selfish part of her wanted him to leave all of that behind but really Ingrid just wanted her best friend back.
It was miserable, but they made it work. Six months into the thing that they called a “relationship” Sylvain stole her breath from nearly 2000 miles away. It was just a casual conversation, nothing special. She was on a video chat telling him about the biology research program she was in when she caught him looking at her funny. “What’s that look for?”
He didn't say anything for a moment and then it spilled out, “I love you”
Ingrid, to her credit, did not immediately freak out. Her face slowly turned red, like a progress bar indicating the exact moment she was going to lose it. When it reached her ears she slammed the laptop closed.
Exactly forty three days later Ingrid caved. It was during one of their rare phone calls. Sylvain was complaining about some self righteous politician who was trying to put more money in their pocket instead of actually doing their job. He caught her drowsing “Hey Ing you there? Everything ok?”
“What? Ya I’m fine, just… long day.” She said as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“Well I’m gonna let you go then. Get some sleep babe.”
“Sylvain…” Ingrid’s face bloomed a light crimson and she barely heard herself say her next words, “...I love you,” She didn’t wait for a response and hung up. She missed the way Sylvain said it back.
Ingrid was startled back to reality by the sudden influx of people in the arrivals terminal. She tugged out her phone, stealing a glance at the time. It read two fifteen, Sylvain’s flight was supposed to land at one fifty-six. A voice tickled her ear, “Hey there gorgeous. How you do-”
Years of self defense training kicked in as Ingrid quickly spun around, ducked her head, and decked the creep who had snuck up behind her. It was too late when she recognized the shock of red hair and that devilishly handsome face. Sylvain staggered back, stunned from the blow and people looked at them in shock. She did just punch a man in the face seemingly for no reason. She couldn't imagine how it must have looked.
“Damn Ing, that was one hell of a greeting,”
“Sylvain! I’m so sorry. Don’t sneak up on me like that! Are you ok?”
He waved her off, “Ya I’m fine, you’ve still got a hell of a right hook on you.”
They both straightened themselves up, and Ingrid only now seemed to process that Sylvain was standing right in front of her. She just stood there as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. She looked up to him so close their breath mixed as he touched his forehead to hers. Ingrid relaxed in his arms. The familiar scent of cinnamon and coffee surrounded her. Time seemed to slow as they stood there saying nothing, enjoying the feeling of each other after two long, touch starved years. “I’ve missed you” Ingrid whispers, only for his ears, “So much.”
He goes to say something witty, but she catches the words when her lips meet his. Ingrid hums into the kiss, long overdue. Sylvain is soft and tender, and she melts into him. In that moment the world fades away. Ingrid knows that this is right where he belongs.