[Hubert's eyes remain on the books, and he's very tempted to reach out to flip one open, just to give himself something to do with his hands. It's a terrible habit of his, one he has done his best to train himself out of over the years. Fidgeting does quite a lot to dispel the intimidating front he puts on, after all. Even though it wouldn't matter here - he has no reason to intimidate Linhardt and he doesn't want to - he still finds himself refusing to give in to the temptation.
It isn't that he's not focused on Linhardt, but his attention is elsewhere and he misses when the crying starts. All he knows is one minute everything is fine (awkward, but fine) and the next tears are rolling down Linhardt's face and he's entirely unsure of what caused it.
Hubert understands crying a lot better than most people would think, though he can't recall the last time he cried.
No, it was Lady Edelgard that was often brought to tears. When they were little, she used to cry so easily. Over the years she trained herself out of it, but back then... Well, to be honest, he never really learned what to do when Lady Edelgard had cried in front of him. Even as a child he was terrible at this, and sometimes when she got so worked up and upset, she'd sit next to him and sob into his shoulder. Eventually he had learned it was okay to touch her - to pat her back or if she was feeling particularly needy, to wrap his arms around her.
They had been children, but even now he remembers it all too clearly.
It isn't appropriate to do the same for Linhardt. It wouldn't have been appropriate if this was Lady Edelgard bursting into tears, so of course it isn't something he should do. But the urge is there, stronger than it ever was when Lady Edelgard cried.
He knows he's staring - his expression a bit too open and honest and confused - but he can't find the words he needs or wants right now. Comfort has never come easily to him, and he doesn't understand why Linhardt's crying in the first place.]
...Linhardt.
[It isn't harsh, it isn't demanding. It's not comforting or gentle either, but nothing about Hubert is or ever will be.]
I didn't mean to upset you. I...
[The words dry up in his throat. They always do when it comes to apologies. His gaze darts and he shifts, fingers absently going to the hem of his glove before he stops himself and reconsiders.
He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket instead, offering it to Linhardt without another word.]
no subject
It isn't that he's not focused on Linhardt, but his attention is elsewhere and he misses when the crying starts. All he knows is one minute everything is fine (awkward, but fine) and the next tears are rolling down Linhardt's face and he's entirely unsure of what caused it.
Hubert understands crying a lot better than most people would think, though he can't recall the last time he cried.
No, it was Lady Edelgard that was often brought to tears. When they were little, she used to cry so easily. Over the years she trained herself out of it, but back then... Well, to be honest, he never really learned what to do when Lady Edelgard had cried in front of him. Even as a child he was terrible at this, and sometimes when she got so worked up and upset, she'd sit next to him and sob into his shoulder. Eventually he had learned it was okay to touch her - to pat her back or if she was feeling particularly needy, to wrap his arms around her.
They had been children, but even now he remembers it all too clearly.
It isn't appropriate to do the same for Linhardt. It wouldn't have been appropriate if this was Lady Edelgard bursting into tears, so of course it isn't something he should do. But the urge is there, stronger than it ever was when Lady Edelgard cried.
He knows he's staring - his expression a bit too open and honest and confused - but he can't find the words he needs or wants right now. Comfort has never come easily to him, and he doesn't understand why Linhardt's crying in the first place.]
...Linhardt.
[It isn't harsh, it isn't demanding. It's not comforting or gentle either, but nothing about Hubert is or ever will be.]
I didn't mean to upset you. I...
[The words dry up in his throat. They always do when it comes to apologies. His gaze darts and he shifts, fingers absently going to the hem of his glove before he stops himself and reconsiders.
He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket instead, offering it to Linhardt without another word.]