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FFIX: Concern
Fandom: Final Fantasy IX
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Zidane and Marcus worry unnecessarily. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
madain_sari.
Cold fingers wrapped gingerly round a hot mug, Blank risks burning his mouth, not minding the brief burn for the feeling of warmth in brings. Zidane and Marcus are watching him -- both with looks of concern in their eyes that are somehow endearing -- and Baku is endeavouring not to watch him, impatiently waiting for him to find his voice and be able to feel his toes again.
"It's cold out there," he says, taking another sip of the hot drink, just to make them wait. They're all so worried. So worried, and it's not like he's any worse than the others at the whole pilfering thing. He's as good as any of them.
"Yes," Zidane agrees, his tail waving around and near twisting itself into knots -- a thing Blank watches with amusement. "Damn near froze my nose off coming out to look for you."
Blank frowns a little at that and finishes off his drink, putting the empty mug down with a definite sound. "You didn't need to come and look for me. I could do it very well by myself. What were you thinking?"
"Mostly that he was concerned for a brother, I think," Marcus says, quietly, smiling briefly in the way that always makes him settle down. "You did take longer than we anticipated, after all. Was there some trouble?"
"No."
"Then get on with it! Did you get it?"
Blank smiles and gets up, pulling the thing out of his pocket. So much trouble, for such a little thing; he can't even think why Baku was so eager to get his hands on it. He throws it down on the table in front of Baku and turns to go. "I'm going to go get some sleep."
They all look a little guilty for doubting him, he thinks. Or maybe he's just hoping that because the blow to his pride wasn't exactly insignificant.
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Zidane and Marcus worry unnecessarily. For
madain_sari.Cold fingers wrapped gingerly round a hot mug, Blank risks burning his mouth, not minding the brief burn for the feeling of warmth in brings. Zidane and Marcus are watching him -- both with looks of concern in their eyes that are somehow endearing -- and Baku is endeavouring not to watch him, impatiently waiting for him to find his voice and be able to feel his toes again.
"It's cold out there," he says, taking another sip of the hot drink, just to make them wait. They're all so worried. So worried, and it's not like he's any worse than the others at the whole pilfering thing. He's as good as any of them.
"Yes," Zidane agrees, his tail waving around and near twisting itself into knots -- a thing Blank watches with amusement. "Damn near froze my nose off coming out to look for you."
Blank frowns a little at that and finishes off his drink, putting the empty mug down with a definite sound. "You didn't need to come and look for me. I could do it very well by myself. What were you thinking?"
"Mostly that he was concerned for a brother, I think," Marcus says, quietly, smiling briefly in the way that always makes him settle down. "You did take longer than we anticipated, after all. Was there some trouble?"
"No."
"Then get on with it! Did you get it?"
Blank smiles and gets up, pulling the thing out of his pocket. So much trouble, for such a little thing; he can't even think why Baku was so eager to get his hands on it. He throws it down on the table in front of Baku and turns to go. "I'm going to go get some sleep."
They all look a little guilty for doubting him, he thinks. Or maybe he's just hoping that because the blow to his pride wasn't exactly insignificant.