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Entry tags:
FFVIII: Focus
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer/Squall/Zell
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: Forgiveness and a little bit of saving. Timeline here.
"Leonhart?" Seifer whispered, a little uncertainly.
"Dincht," the figure supplied, "Squall's unconscious."
"Chickenwuss," he sighed, in relief, and let Zell help him up. He leaned against him, the world a blur, and wished he wasn't trusting his balance to someone so many inches shorter than him. "What happened?"
"You were attacked," Zell said, unnecessarily, and helped Seifer over to a bench. "Me and Squall were passing by... bastards hit him over the head."
"Oh. Is he okay?" There was the sound of movement and a creak of leather in answer, and Zell went to help Squall over to the bench, hovering anxiously. Seifer gazed at him blearily, rubbing at his eyes and directing the question at him now. "You okay, Leonhart?"
"I've been better," Squall answered, harshly, and Seifer nodded, blinking him into focus.
"Shit, will you make your mind up which one of you you are?" he asked, and smiled slightly when Zell snorted, but he wasn't kidding because he couldn't focus on just one Squall, there seemed like there were thousands of them, all juxtaposed together.
"You might have a concussion..."
"We'll wait a bit and when I feel a bit better I'll call a transport," Squall said, decisively, and Seifer decided that the power suited Squall. Finally, he got his vision in focus and looked at Squall, and decided that even with a split lip and a black eye and a hazy look as if he wasn't all there, Squall was gorgeous. Zell wasn't so bad, either, even if he still hadn't got rid of the chicken-style.
It was good to see them. Seifer felt a familiar butterfly feeling in his stomach, but he wasn't focusing on that right now, because he was having a hard time focusing on anything.
"Great," he said, softly, and meant it.
There was a short silence, and he cleared his throat.
"Don't you two...?"
"We don't hate you," Zell said, simply, and Seifer nodded, moving to rest his head against Squall's shoulder, without another word. They weren't expecting an apology; he'd never given them one before, not for anything.
"Thanks," he said, and he meant, thanks for everything. Thanks for forgiving me.
They both smiled, and not a word more was said.
Pairing: Seifer/Squall/Zell
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: Forgiveness and a little bit of saving. Timeline here.
"Leonhart?" Seifer whispered, a little uncertainly.
"Dincht," the figure supplied, "Squall's unconscious."
"Chickenwuss," he sighed, in relief, and let Zell help him up. He leaned against him, the world a blur, and wished he wasn't trusting his balance to someone so many inches shorter than him. "What happened?"
"You were attacked," Zell said, unnecessarily, and helped Seifer over to a bench. "Me and Squall were passing by... bastards hit him over the head."
"Oh. Is he okay?" There was the sound of movement and a creak of leather in answer, and Zell went to help Squall over to the bench, hovering anxiously. Seifer gazed at him blearily, rubbing at his eyes and directing the question at him now. "You okay, Leonhart?"
"I've been better," Squall answered, harshly, and Seifer nodded, blinking him into focus.
"Shit, will you make your mind up which one of you you are?" he asked, and smiled slightly when Zell snorted, but he wasn't kidding because he couldn't focus on just one Squall, there seemed like there were thousands of them, all juxtaposed together.
"You might have a concussion..."
"We'll wait a bit and when I feel a bit better I'll call a transport," Squall said, decisively, and Seifer decided that the power suited Squall. Finally, he got his vision in focus and looked at Squall, and decided that even with a split lip and a black eye and a hazy look as if he wasn't all there, Squall was gorgeous. Zell wasn't so bad, either, even if he still hadn't got rid of the chicken-style.
It was good to see them. Seifer felt a familiar butterfly feeling in his stomach, but he wasn't focusing on that right now, because he was having a hard time focusing on anything.
"Great," he said, softly, and meant it.
There was a short silence, and he cleared his throat.
"Don't you two...?"
"We don't hate you," Zell said, simply, and Seifer nodded, moving to rest his head against Squall's shoulder, without another word. They weren't expecting an apology; he'd never given them one before, not for anything.
"Thanks," he said, and he meant, thanks for everything. Thanks for forgiving me.
They both smiled, and not a word more was said.