[You fucking deserve it, Sylvain. That's what you get. Wriothesley slaps Sylvain's back in retaliation, a sound choked back as the other smacks one of his cheeks. This guy...]

You're too energetic in the morning, Sylvain.

[Hate this guy, actually. At least Wriothesley practically rag dolls, finding that he definitely does not have the energy to try and get out of Sylvain's grasp.] This better be good that you're carrying me through the damn resort. [Though, he feels like there's more eyes on them than he's used to? On him? Usually, people don't even give him a glance.]