When sleeping, Severa is beautiful.
"Actually," Owain notes mentally as he stares at the girl lying down on the cot in front of him, "Severa's always beautiful." But something is definitely different about the cold-hearted blond when she is in such a state - perhaps it's the fact that when she is like this, she is incapable of barking insults towards him. Or maybe it's the way her long hair is spread across the bed, or how her criticizing glare is shielded by her eyelids. Maybe she just seemed nicer in her sleep.
He hadn't meant to find her like this. It had been a dare that led him here, a childish challenge issued by Inigo. He didn't know what he would do once making it into the tent - after all, planning wasn't necessary when he had assumed that the girls lurking within would chase him out in seconds. But the tent isn't as occupied as he had originally assumed. Perhaps Severa had chased out anyone else before she settled down for her nap.
To say the least, Owain was a bit lost at this point.
The Ylissean noble bites his lip, staring down at the girl resting before him. If she were to wake up then, she would definitely accuse him of being a creep and unleash her wrath. She has every reason to, too - after all, he is kind of watching her sleep.
Finally, he comes to terms with the fact that a swift escape before she awakens is the best plan of action. He turns, stiffly moving towards the door in a very un-hero-like manner. His hand is feebly gripping the flap of the tent with the intention of slipping through it when a small whimper catches his attention.
When Owain turns to face the whimperer, his heart is torn in two. His gaze settles on Severa's pained-looking expression, and he freezes in place. His hand drops the tent flap, which falls back into place. The girl's shoulders are bunched up as though trying to form a shield for the slumbering soldier, and her hair falls into her face as though trying to serve as a veil. Owain blinks, staring at her for several never-ending seconds.
Somehow, he finds himself kneeling beside the bed, his arms crossed on the edge as he watches her expression change. The brief flickers of pain are familiar to him - they remind him of his cousin, Lucina, when he was sent by his mother to bring her tea in the night to help her fight off her nightmares. He sighs slightly, unable to pull his gaze away from the blond in front of him. She's so beautiful, seems so untouchable, and many think of her as an ice-queen, a jerk.
But he realizes then that she's hurting just as much as the rest of them.
The mercenary turns in her sleep, facing the ceiling now rather than him. Her eyes open slightly, and Owain freezes over as she glances towards him. She may as well be asleep, though, as she does nothing besides meet his gaze for a moment and shooting him an awkward smile that Owain would have never thought she was capable of before turning back to facing the ceiling and letting her eyelids shield her eyes yet again. The Ylissean noble stares wide-eyed at her for several more seconds before standing up shakily, looking down at her.
For some reason, the fact that Severa didn't kill him on the spot gives him a slight boost of false-confidence, and he doesn't dart out of the tent immediately. Instead, he places one shaky hand beside her head, leaning down and gently pressing his lips against hers. He's absolutely terrified, but for some reason, he has this conceited idea that kissing her might temporarily keep the nightmares at bay. It's probably the most ridiculous idea he's had, but he goes through with it anyways.
When he pulls away, he hovers above her face for a moment, hoping that his hammering heart doesn't wake her up. However, much to Owain's distress, her eyelids do pull back slightly. Like earlier, she simply stares at him for a moment before shooting another awkward and un-Severa-like grin. Owain realizes that the lighting (or lack thereof) probably gives her the impression that he is someone else entirely. Perhaps she is fooling herself with hopes of it being the "cool, mysterious, and dreamy" Gerome. At the mere thought of such, Owain bites the inside of his cheek as he pushes himself away, and he stumbles out of the tent with a very red face and a somewhat bitter expression.
Inside the tent, Severa watches him clumsily escape. A slight giggle escapes her lips. The blond lifts her fingers to run them across her lips, and turns back to sleep.
"It's nice," she thinks as she drifts off yet again, "To have a good dream for once."