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FFVIII: No Bite
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Chickenwuss is all bark.
"Wait for me, shithead!"
Seifer obeyed the order, but only because it would mean that Zell would run straight into him in a very undignified manner. "What do you want, chickenwuss?"
"Don't call me that!" Zell glared. He was like an angry chicken, though -- his hair fluffed up and defied gravity even more than usual, like a bird's feathers when they puff them out to look bigger and more intimidating. Seifer wasn't at all intimidated.
"Or you'll do... what?" he smirked.
"Kick your ass!"
Seifer let the disbelieving, scornful silence last a few heartbeats before he laughed his nasty, derisive laugh. "Couldn't fight your way out of a wet paper bag with just those fists of yours, chickie. Tiny bark, no bite at all."
Zell muttered.
Seifer kindly did him a favour and pretended not to hear.
"Was gonna ask where you're going, ask why you aren't at the festival but fuck, do you always have to be like this? Fine, never mind," Zell looked up at him, indignance only barely hiding hurt, "Have fun on your own, prick!"
And he went off.
Seifer blinked.
And blinked again.
And shrugged it off, heading for the training center.
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Chickenwuss is all bark.
"Wait for me, shithead!"
Seifer obeyed the order, but only because it would mean that Zell would run straight into him in a very undignified manner. "What do you want, chickenwuss?"
"Don't call me that!" Zell glared. He was like an angry chicken, though -- his hair fluffed up and defied gravity even more than usual, like a bird's feathers when they puff them out to look bigger and more intimidating. Seifer wasn't at all intimidated.
"Or you'll do... what?" he smirked.
"Kick your ass!"
Seifer let the disbelieving, scornful silence last a few heartbeats before he laughed his nasty, derisive laugh. "Couldn't fight your way out of a wet paper bag with just those fists of yours, chickie. Tiny bark, no bite at all."
Zell muttered.
Seifer kindly did him a favour and pretended not to hear.
"Was gonna ask where you're going, ask why you aren't at the festival but fuck, do you always have to be like this? Fine, never mind," Zell looked up at him, indignance only barely hiding hurt, "Have fun on your own, prick!"
And he went off.
Seifer blinked.
And blinked again.
And shrugged it off, heading for the training center.