M!Byleth X Claude. The Goddess Tower.

"So, Teach, how does it feel to be the favourite professor?" Claude's smooth, playful voice startled Byleth, only because they were an almost exact echo of Sothis' words from moments ago. He had been deep in his thoughts, almost able to visualize the blackened room with the ancient stone throne, but the voice brought him all back to reality in an instant, the visions and Sothis' speech fading from his senses.

The teal-haired professor turned to face his young house leader, seeing his smile warm in the brisk night air, and his verdant green eyes glinting against the moonlight. There were times that Byleth couldn't help but be perplexed at Claude's vibrance; how he managed to exude so much energy, and bear so many emotions with even the slightest movements; every lift of an eyebrow or shift in posture, every knowing glance and twitch of a smile read a different sentiment. All of this was conveyed, on display for the world to see, and yet Byleth was saddened once again to see the shallowness of the expression.

"I'm hardly the favourite," Byleth responded humbly, his voice sounding flat and dry to his own ears after Claude's lilting tone. The wind could have defeated his voice in personality, swirling about them and moving their clothing and hair in lazy swings.

Claude only laughed in response, disbelief stirred into the good-natured sound. "Come on, Teach, you and I both know that's nonsense. Heck, you know I don't dance with just anyone!"

"You danced with everyone."

"For fun, yes," Claude rolled his eyes to admit. "But, I…well, I was surprised that you accepted my invitation." He grinned, "Dancing with you was a lot more fun than those silly skips and hops that the other nobles do sometimes. Did you see how annoyed Lorenz was when you bumped into him?"

Byleth looked down, feeling a little embarrassed at the memory, but fond of it all the same. "I did. I haven't had many opportunities to dance in the past."

Claude nodded, folding his hands behind his head. "But you must have learned something somewhere. I'm awful at dancing, so you can't have picked it up from me." The playful smirk on his face tested Byleth's mood, prodding for the level of teasing he would take.

"You're not awful," Byleth quickly interjected. There was a quiet pause, in which the professor began to feel uncomfortable that he had spoken out of turn. "My father taught me some when I was young. But after a while it didn't seem necessary."

"Of course, of course," Claude sympathized, walking over to stand beside his favourite professor. Despite being only a few feet closer, Byleth felt warmer in the brisk night air. "Still, you must be exhausted after all that. What were you thinking about out here? I'd have thought you'd gone to bed."

Byleth gazed up at the sky, the silvery moonlight making his skin shine a beautiful, pale hue. He was not sure how to answer the question, or how he wanted to answer if he could. With yet to respond, he shifted his gaze back to Claude, who was waiting patiently for his words. Claude's expression seemed… troubled. For a second, he seemed confused, almost worried. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes were soft, the usually striking emerald melted to a deep olive as he watched his professor. His lip was caught between his teeth uncertainly, and he seemed as if on the edge of a statement or a thought. All of this vanished the moment that Byleth turned his eyes towards him, but the split-second glance had been enough to make his heart ache with curiosity.

"I… was thinking of going to the Goddess Tower," Byleth proposed gently, prodding for Claude's reaction.

Claude seemed drawn in. His eyebrows raised slightly in scepticism, making his sparkling eyes seem even more stunning, wide and wise, but still flaked with the beauty of youth in the moonlight. "Why's that? You believe the rumours?"

"Not so much," Byleth smirked. "I was going to see if anyone were waiting for me. I'd be interested to see which students consider me more than the favourite."

With a sideways glance, Byleth was once again perplexed by the house leader. He felt his air drawn from his lungs as those eyes left his own, too soon. Claude averted his gaze to the ground, then dragged his eyes up the stone walls to look at the night sky. He was obviously stalling for words, and Byleth was disappointed at the schemer's transparency. He had come to enjoy figuring Claude out, despite the frustration and worry that came hand-in-hand with the pleasing challenge. He recognized that Claude felt too deep and thought too long, and Byleth ached to reach out to him. He longed for Claude's trust, not only as a professor or an ally, but as something more…

A friend, he decided. He wanted Claude to trust him, to share with him his worries and his desires, to talk of his ambitions and shine a light on the dark mysteries awaiting him in his future. Byleth was unsettled at the idea of Claude leaving to change the world without him. He did not underestimate the young man's abilities, but he wanted to share in the journey. He wanted nothing more than to see the new dawn that Claude would mention briefly, passionately and poetically, in quiet moments like this.

But now, with one glance, Claude had drawn Byleth in even further to his eyes, to the unknowns that lie behind them. Why did he deter his gaze like that? What was he hiding enough to keep it silent, but in such an unguarded and vulnerable matter? As if he wanted the world to look away, but could not resist capturing the professor in waves of forest green glances and words like wine. The tenderness felt meant for him, as if the doors were unlocked, and only waiting to be opened. Byleth's mind churned with questions, ones he knew not to ask and others he let die on his often-silent tongue.

Instead, he uttered a delicate proposition. "Would you like to accompany me?"

Claude hesitated, then grinned. "Sure thing, Teach. I'd be honoured." Byleth's lips twitched up in a semblance of a smile, as if his own gesture would prod Claude's beam to reach his eyes. The gesture dropped slowly when he saw that it did not.

"Come, then." Byleth turned and began walking to the cathedral, his cloak swirling about him and rustling softly in the evening breeze. Claude followed, falling into step beside him, his hands folded behind his back and a slight skip in his gait. Byleth turned his head and was fixated by the little braid in Claude's hair, bouncing playfully with each eager step. Despite the reluctance in his gestures, the strange behaviour from earlier, Claude still found it in himself to be joyful while spending a night with his professor. Byleth's attention was seized, his thoughts concentrated only on deciphering the young man beside him.

Claude caught the glance and grinned, a mysterious glint in his perceptive eyes. "What are you looking at, Teach?"

"You." Byleth responded flatly. He felt that he should look away to alleviate the awkward silence that followed the blunt confession, but his heart sparked at the immediate reaction Claude seemed to have. His eyes softened and his smile died on his lips, but was delightfully replaced with the smaller, gentler features of surprise. Byleth smirked slightly to himself and looked back ahead, satisfied with the theory that he even saw a pink tint on his cheeks.

Claude cleared his throat after a few more moments of silence. "You never answered my question earlier. Do you believe that stuff about the Goddess Tower?"

"It wouldn't hurt to." Byleth mused. "If I get a wish granted, that would be nice. And if not, I'm no worse off."

"I suppose that's true," Claude mumbled, looking down at his feet while they walked. "But getting a wish granted… that would mean that even more of it is true, then, wouldn't it?"

"There's no proof that the Goddess is the one who grants your wish," Byleth suggested, hoping to set his cynical sweetheart at ease. Yes, he concluded. Claude would be his sweetheart at the tower. It only seemed fitting, considering how closely they had grown over the past few months. And was that not the reason as to why Byleth invited him in the first place? Was that not the hidden meaning behind all of Claude's gestures, the sweet glances, the adorable reactions to his words and his magnetic gaze?

There were too many steps up the tower. Byleth yearned to reach the top, to see the night sky that often settled his most troubling thoughts, but hummed softly when Claude slowed behind him. He turned to face the house leader, extending a hand. "Come now, Claude. It's only a staircase."

Claude chuckled breathlessly, and Byleth raised an eyebrow. Surely, he could not be out of breath from the steps. "I know, I know, no need to tease, Teach." One look at the delicate rosy shade of his cheeks confirmed Byleth's suspicions, and he smiled encouragingly as he took a few steps down, still outstretching his gloved hand.

Claude took his hand, his grip firm despite the tentative glance of his eyes. It was confident, sure and yet delicate with nervousness, like it was when he had taken Byleth's hand at the dance. Byleth guided him up the remaining stone steps until they arrived at the outlook and made a silent decision to keep his hand on Claude's until the latter pulled away. He did not.

"It seems that it's just you and me up here…" Byleth said softly, leading Claude out onto the balcony to overlook the valley. A faint mist from the low clouds covered the ground below, but the mountains rose triumphantly around the monastery, bathed in deep blues and greens from the twinkling light of the stars, and the clear focused gleam of the moon above. "Do you have a wish?"

Claude was quiet, fixated on taking in the beautiful scene around them. His eyes dragged over each mountain peak, painting each tree and every shadow with that emerald gaze, capturing it for memories and later dreams. "I don't have one wish, there's far too many for me to decide… What about you?"

Byleth hummed quietly, turning to face the edge of the balcony and the night sky before them. "I can make one…" He paused. "How about we wish to remember this moment?"

Claude's smile was pleasantly amazed, light and sage, but… happy. Something stirred in his eyes, bright green sparking the dark olive undertones, and they melted with a warmth that Byleth had never seen. The warmth of his heart had reached his eyes, and it was beautiful. It did not last long, but the expression burned into his memory like seething embers, ready to be ignited and seen once again.

"That sounds like a perfect wish," Claude took Byleth's free hand in his own, turning the man to face him fully and gazing into his own murky blue eyes. The shadows from the moon captured and contoured his face, his bronze skin glowing in an artist's exquisite rendition of Claude's playful daylight features. "So, let us pray." He closed his eyes, a spirited smile dancing on his perfect lips. "Dear Goddess…"

Byleth could not look away. He did not dare lose a moment of this beauty, a second of this tremendous wonder. Instead, he gazed upon Claude's lips, as they moved in perfect rhythm with the prayer he uttered, however doubtful of the faith he felt. Byleth traced Claude's features with his dark eyes, the softness brought upon by the night and the absence of that outstanding gaze, how elegant his features seemed with a nation's future on his shoulders, and yet how delicate youth had been preserved in the finest of details, the most careful of silhouettes. If memory was a painting, Byleth's mind was a gallery enveloped in only love and intrigue, captured as a shrine to the young man in front of him. Every wall was lined with paintings, enslaved by awe and encapsulating thousands of expressions, glances, moments with him.

He did not notice when Claude had stopped speaking. His voice had since died off in a whisper, his eyes now open and staring into Byleth's own. His expression hid nothing; pure and sweet, he smiled gently. His eyes gleamed.

"What are you looking at, Teach?" His words were a song, spoken smoothly and hushed, carried on the wind like a secret to be preserved. Like a prayer to be heard by spirits alone, or like a wish to be granted.

Byleth's throat was dry, his lungs were empty. He was burning and freezing all at once, falling and flying, but none of it mattered. What mattered was there in front of him. He responded with a voice like wind, gentle and sincere, destined only for the one he wanted it to reach.

You.

Author's Note: Hey again! Wow, this one was... interesting to write! I spent so long editing it because something felt just a little off, but in the end, I realized that that was the effect I was going for. I wanted to capture some sort of unspoken intimacy, so it was hard to find words... I was inspired by honestly just thinking about the beauty of the monastery and the exquisite detail that lies around it in the scenery. And of course, the Goddess Tower. What better place to have the most poetic thoughts?

Anyways, I know this chapter was a bit more flowery than the previous ones, but it had less of a direction, I guess. I just wanted to go for it and this is what came out. I hope you all liked it just the same!

Thanks so much for reading again! Let me know if you've got any requests.