Sylvain often spend most of his waking moments thinking of Byleth: thinking of her smile, her laugh, her kiss. A model is only beautiful enough if she resembles his girlfriend, a concept is only good enough if it makes him remember something about her, a product is only finished if he thinks she would enjoy seeing it on TV. He is slightly concerned that he is becoming a bit of a one-note when it comes to his job.
Work, his advertising business and the considerations about his professional image, however, pale in comparison with what really occupied his thoughts, what was really worming in his mind these days.
He is so in love with her, it was nauseating to anyone who spent even the slightest time with him. He gloated about her at the office using a picture they took at his birthday, he insisted to bring her along to every event and campaign launch, and, if even slightly prompted, he would talk about her for hours. Felix and Dimitri were honestly sick of hearing him in one of his tirades, and they knew and cared for Byleth just as much.
He had been a bit of a womanizer when he was younger, and he had been honestly in love before, but ever since they met in college, Byleth had been an unobtainable dream. For years, they were friends, he legitimately cared for her and he found her particularly beautiful, but it was always pretty clear to him that they would never go beyond a precious friendship.
Until they finally did. He asked her out as a joke, as he was prone to do, and she said yes. He never asked why, as not to test his luck or her resolve. Now, almost a year into dates that were not turned down, but little more than that, he fears that his fortune has changed.
It occupies the better part of his day as he wonders whether he had taken advantage of Byleth, of what the both of them could have had together. He knows that something has changed between them, that something is wrong, but he cannot work out the cause.
Sylvain knows there is plenty against him. The ghost of his dead brother and the abuse he suffered haunts him, and his parents were no joy, either. His past condemns him, and there is nothing in his present, aside from a pretty face and a comfortable bank account, to make up for it. He feels indebted for being able to enjoy her company for so long, and it might as well be that his credit card is going to overdraft.
Alas, Byleth seemed unwilling to put him out of his misery, and he was a bit of a masochist when it came to women, so it continued to occupy his thoughts. It began to mess with his sleeping and meal schedules. Goddess, all this anxiety will kill him sooner rather than later.
When he could not sleep, rather than having a cup of tea or taking medicine, he called his girlfriend and asked to come over. If she lived just downstairs from him, then he would come back and sleep like an angel, as the woman was pretty good in easing his anxieties. However, she lived across the city from him. Even without traffic, late at night, he took close to an hour each way. Once he finally reaches his bed, it was almost time to his alarm clock to ring.
Between his late-night driving and his usual insomnia, he doubts he had slept anything over thirty hours on the last seven days, and he is definitively showing.
"Scoot over." Felix said, standing over the driver's door.
The long-haired man had asked for a ride. He had to visit his brother and sister-in-law, and they lived rather close to Sylvain's building. So, a trip that would usually take two hours each way through transit could be rendered in forty five minutes to an hour at the comfortable sports car.
"What?" The redhead responded, confused.
"Get off. You're too tired to drive." Felix elaborates.
His friend frowns. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not. You're shit." The man counters. "You'll kill us both if you sleep on the wheel. Let me drive."
Anger blooms in Sylvain's heart. "And you're going to wreck my car if I let you in the hush hour traffic. You're afraid of driving, remember?"
"Fuck you, I'm cautious." The other barks.
"Felix, you're white as a sheet and you haven't even sat down in the driver's seat yet. You're shitting your pants." Sylvain argues. "I'm not going to let you drive my car."
Felix rolled his eyes. "Fine, suit yourself."
The long-haired man goes around the car and makes himself comfortable on the passenger's seat, and off they went into the busy streets.
Since Felix was angry, he brooded and refused to talk with Sylvain. The driver was, indeed, very sleepy and some conversation would jog his mind enough to keep him alert. As it stands, however, the only thing he could think about was how tired he felt.
After a few false starts on stoplights, they finally reached the river. From there, it would be just a straight line until their destination.
However, Sylvain blinks a little too slowly. His mind goes blank for a moment, and then a noise of metal hitting against metal brings him back. His car is hit on the side and they swerve to the side, into the wall that separated the road and the river bed.
For a second, it seemed as if they stopped. Felix looked mad, but completely unhurt, the impact being absorbed by the airbag. However, the car was perched precariously by the shallow river. The slightest wrong move would send them tumbling down, but they could not know that from inside.
As Sylvain moves to check on the physical damages to his body, it unbalanced the fragile equilibrium and sent them down into a concrete floor.
He falls into a milky darkness, not thinking of anything else. Though, for one brief moment, as his skull hits the hard wheel in front of him, Sylvain's mind briefly flickers to Byleth. A moment of pain free-peace in and amongst it all.