"You have a very feminine waist," Byleth remarked one day. She'd been watching him in the training hall. Dimitri didn't even know that she was there.

"I—what?"

"You heard me," she replied blandly. "It's mildly amusing to me. That's all."

"Amusing," he repeated, feeling embarrassed and insecure about a trait he wasn't even aware of having until a few moments ago. "I see."

Dimitri had heard men remark on how the women they wished to woo were able to notice the smallest of details about them. Then, they would proceed to make them self-conscious about it with not but a single comment. He hadn't given such remarks much thought until Byleth, also with a single comment, made him feel the urge to shrink away from her like a humiliated cat and find a shirt and his heavy cloak so she would never be able to see his bare torso again.

He didn't often think about his appearance. He never had. Even less so after he'd been run out of Fhirdiad. Since deciding to reclaim it, he made more of an effort to appear more presentable, but that was far more for the sake of personal hygiene rather than taking up all that peacocking around like Lorenz had liked to do. It never took precedence over combat practicality.

But this was Byleth remarking on his appearance. Which meant that she'd been staring at him long enough to take note of a supposed "feminine waist." What did that even mean? Was it unappealing to women? Did she consider him unattractive because of it? He'd never even thought that Byleth may look at him and like what she saw.

Did she like what she saw?

Or was it that his body was too feminine for her to be attracted to him as a man? He never even considered himself feminine. Catherine had teased him for looking like a girl when he was young, but of all the things he could say about himself, he certainly thought he looked more masculine than not. Although, self-reflection wasn't exactly his strong suit so perhaps he'd missed the mark on even something as simple as that.

In terms of womanly beauty though, Byleth would always come to mind, and she didn't look anything like he did. If she did, he would hope that he wouldn't find her attractive. Wishing to be with oneself was not a quality Dimitri wished to possess. But no, thankfully Byleth looked nothing like he did and was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever met. Certainly the most wonderful.

But either way, it didn't seem like those feelings of attraction were mutual. He shouldn't be so surprised at it. His own body was scarred and abused, practically beyond recognition. He thought even his own mother would fail to recognize him. The burn scars on his back were not a pleasant sight to behold, especially when coupled with the others, and the scar over his right eye was arguably worse than all of them. What was left of the organ was mutilated and ugly. It made it more obvious to enemy soldiers that he was half-blind and could only detect things on his right side with hearing and, Goddess forbid, touch. It was the scar he wanted to keep hidden from people the most, even while he'd been living in the slums. His fingers were crooked from the numerous times they'd been broken then healed, and rough from years of harsh work. A far cry from Byleth's own hands, calloused as they were. Like the rest of her, her hands were warm and gentle and provided respite rather than pain.

She was so much better than he, in more ways than Dimitri could count. He didn't deserve her attention, much less the romantic affection he self-indulgently liked to imagine on nights he couldn't sleep and wished to think on less heavy things.

But he wanted it anyway. Especially now that he knew that he had her attention. Enough so that she noticed his waist enough to remark on it.

Did she stare at him often? Or was it that she was appraising his skills with a lance and noticing his physical build was simply something that happened as a result? It…wasn't out of the realm of possibility. She was an observant person.

"What?" Byleth's voice snapped Dimitri from his stupor. "I was only making a simple observation. No need to look so dejected."

"I'm not dejected," he defended immediately. "Just…surprised. I didn't know you were watching me."

Byleth averted her gaze. "I teach best when I'm familiar with my students' anatomy. It often tells me their strengths and weaknesses. Old habits die hard, I suppose," she added half-heartedly.

"Of—of course."

Of course that was the reason. He felt foolish for overthinking it to the extent he did. For hoping that it had been something else.

"It makes you uncomfortable though. I'm sorry, I'll stop," Byleth pressed on.

"Oh, you don't have to," Dimitri said without thinking.

She arched a brow. "You want me to stare at you?"

He flushed. "I meant that if you want to, I wouldn't mind."

"You seemed like you minded just a minute ago."

"No, I said I was only caught off guard. If it makes you happy, I don't mind. Really."

"All right," she said eventually, bemused.

"…Do you enjoy looking at me?" Dimitri asked hesitantly.

To his surprise (and, firmly hidden, delight), Byleth's face turned a light shade of red. He'd never in his life seen her blush before. He decided he liked it.

"I know to appreciate people's bodies on occasion." Her tone was still stiff and cold.

"And you appreciate mine…?" He pressed. The sun bearing down on him was beginning to feel even hotter than it had been while he'd been hacking away at a training dummy.

She turned her head away from him so he couldn't see her face, much to his disappointment. "You aren't unattractive, Dimitri," she told him tightly.

"…Oh. Thank you. I think." How am I meant to respond to that?

She stalked to the door, still staring intently at the ground. "I'll see you tomorrow. Don't stay up too late. There is much to be done and being half-asleep tomorrow is unacceptable."

"A-All right. Of course, Professor." He decided to blame the burning feeling on the merciless sun.

Byleth didn't bother with a reply, or even looking at him with a nod as a way of acknowledging that she heard him like she normally did, and let the door fall shut behind her.

I-I suppose that's the end of that. …Probably.

(Dimitri hoped that it wasn't.)