He was tired. And he wasn't tired in the sense that yesterday's training session was tough (thought it was), just as he wasn't tired in the way a person was when they stayed up far past midnight (which he did). This tiredness, this exhaustion, was deeply set into him. It wasn't a momentary state of being.

It was perpetual.

And so long as Linhardt found himself fatigued, he would always go out of his way to cure the sleepiness where it came. Whether that be dozing off during academic lessons, sleeping in the middle of hallways, or—in today's case—soaking his feet in the monastery's fishing pond, Linhardt would do it all.

Today he did it by sitting at the edge of the water, on top of the marbled stone pathways that lead out to the marketplace further beyond. It was midsummer, late into the Garland Moon and just days away from the sacred Blue Sea Moon. Because of that, the sun was high in the sky, and brightly shining for all the inhabitants at Garreg Mach Monastery to see.

As a result, Lindhardt had trouble sleeping in his own room, due to the summer waves beating down on the buildings, and trapping the heat inside. Even the best dorms lacked proper insulation, so when summer came, it was a bit difficult. Although, according to Petra, Fódlan summers were a lot colder in comparison to Brigid ones.

He shuddered at the thought of it being any warmer than it was. Yet, the heat wasn't entirely unwelcome, because when it was hot, it was easier to succumb to tiredness and sleep. And Linhardt was halfway to dreamland, himself, when he laid down, pants rolled up, lower legs soaked in the water, and arms spread out as he enjoyed the lazy summer day in all its glory.

Before his mind could fully drift, however, there was an unmistakable change in the air next to him. He barely heard it as it came, and if it weren't for his in-between asleep and awake states, he wouldn't have noticed it at all.

Although, from the way that the motions were followed by absolute silence afterward, Linhardt immediately had the image of a certain professor in mind.

"Professor Byleth," he murmured. "You sleepy, too?"

"Hmm…" they hummed. "Not really."

"Then why are you here?"

"Just enjoying the water, I suppose."

"Forgive me for saying this, but you don't look like the type of person that would do that."

"Oh? That's odd."

"Why is it odd?"

"Because you also don't look like someone that would enjoy that, either," they pointed out.

"Haha...you got me there," Linhardt conceded. His eyes were still closed against the sun, although he was sure that the professor was completely expressionless, anyway. He wasn't missing anything by not fully acknowledging their appearance. "Did you come to keep me company, maybe? That's even weirder of you."

"You remind me of a cat," they simply said. "The cats do this all the time."

"I'll take that as a compliment. I love cats," Linhardt promised. His lips curved up into the slightest smiles. "Although, they make reading a hassle, that's for sure."

"You like to read." Not a question, but a statement.

It was answered by a sleepy statement of his own. "Yes, I do."

"I see. I have some good books of my own that I've found."

"Well, maybe when I'm not so sleepy, I'll ask for your recommendations."

"Very well."

"Cool. So, uh, not to suddenly put a damper on things, but...are you planning on staying here all day?"

"That depends. Are you going to still sleep in the same place where I saw a cat poop earlier?"

Linhardt opened his eyes in a shock. He found himself staring straight up at Byleth, who was leaning over him with a delirious look in their eyes. Their dark blue hair fell into short curtains around them, and their brighter blue eyes stood out, even against the shadows. But through it all, Linhardt couldn't help but stare at Byleth's mouth, and ogle at what he saw there.

It was a smile. Not a smirk, not a tiny uplift, not even a sneer. It was a brash, pure, unadulterated smile, and Linhardt admitted that he once thought it was incapable of the professor to make such an expression. Or, in fact, any expression that strayed too far from their usual stony disposition.

Things were different now, though.

He wondered why.

"I thought you said there was cat poop," Linhardt muttered. "Did you just lie to me, Professor?"

"And I thought you said you were sleepy," Byleth countered. "You look rather awake to me."

"The energy is a momentary state of being. It'll be gone soon." He smiled softly. "I'm always tired, you see."

Byleth almost, almost, almost chuckled, but the noise sounded stifled against their lips. They pulled back, and increased the distance between themselves and Linhardt until the sun was back in view, and Linhardt remembered that it was midday, and not the night that Byleth's shadow cast over him.

Then Byleth looked elsewhere, although the smile in their voice never left. "Well," they said. "You should count yourself lucky that I'm not always lying."

"Of course, Professor."

I'd be dead meat, otherwise.