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Entry tags:
FFVIII: Bound
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Squall/Rinoa
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Her voice on the phone. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fated_children.
"Squall," Rinoa says, just before he puts the phone down. There's something in her voice that makes him ignore the work still waiting for him, something vulnerable. He wonders whether someone has said something to her -- whether there's been trouble because she's a sorceress --
He stops that train of thought, swings his chair so he's not looking at the piles of work which can only make him feel guilty. There's no use in that. And there's no use in wildly speculating, either. He takes a deep breath, and when he speaks, his voice is reassuringly steady. "Yeah?"
"I -- nothing."
He's no good at reading people, not even her, but that doesn't even need any reading. It's right there, open and naked. Vulnerability, self-doubt. His old friends. "It's obviously not nothing, Rinoa."
"I just -- can you come visit me?"
He considers it, for a moment -- reaches for his calendar to flip through. He tries to keep his tone smooth, still reassuring. At the same time he worries about her reaction, wonders whether he's handling this right or all wrong. He's usually handling her all wrong, of course, and he has no idea -- well, it's better if he doesn't dwell on that, either. "Not for a month or two, I'm really -- "
"It's okay," she says, hiding disappointment. "I should let you go."
"Tell me what's wrong," he says, and then winces at how much like a command it sounds. Still, if it gets results... He hears her draw in a breath.
"It's nothing, really," she says, quickly, "but I'm not -- I -- I don't like it here anymore. I don't feel safe. And no, there's nobody threatening me, and it'd be fine if you were here, if you were -- I think I need you, Squall."
For a moment, he sits in silence, testing the limits of the statement and the response that springs to mind, pondering, weighing up the possibilities. He tries to just say it, but words never come out like that. Or if they do, they come out wrong. She knows. She forgives. He takes a deep breath. "I know, I think -- well, I'm your knight."
"Yeah," Rinoa says, relief edging her voice. "You understand."
"I think I do."
There's a long pause, and he flips through his calendar again. There's work to be doing, but he could pack most of it up, and Quistis did offer him a hand -- and his secretary is a blessing in disguise, at least once you get used to her chatter. She'd probably get on fine with Quistis for a while, he could --
"Okay," he says. "I'm coming to see you."
"When?"
"Now."
He puts the phone down without saying goodbye, feeling the faint thread of connection between them. Sorceress and knight. Bound by whatever. Fate. Necessity. Love, that even then had been creeping under his skin.
Whatever.
Pairing: Squall/Rinoa
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Her voice on the phone. For
fated_children."Squall," Rinoa says, just before he puts the phone down. There's something in her voice that makes him ignore the work still waiting for him, something vulnerable. He wonders whether someone has said something to her -- whether there's been trouble because she's a sorceress --
He stops that train of thought, swings his chair so he's not looking at the piles of work which can only make him feel guilty. There's no use in that. And there's no use in wildly speculating, either. He takes a deep breath, and when he speaks, his voice is reassuringly steady. "Yeah?"
"I -- nothing."
He's no good at reading people, not even her, but that doesn't even need any reading. It's right there, open and naked. Vulnerability, self-doubt. His old friends. "It's obviously not nothing, Rinoa."
"I just -- can you come visit me?"
He considers it, for a moment -- reaches for his calendar to flip through. He tries to keep his tone smooth, still reassuring. At the same time he worries about her reaction, wonders whether he's handling this right or all wrong. He's usually handling her all wrong, of course, and he has no idea -- well, it's better if he doesn't dwell on that, either. "Not for a month or two, I'm really -- "
"It's okay," she says, hiding disappointment. "I should let you go."
"Tell me what's wrong," he says, and then winces at how much like a command it sounds. Still, if it gets results... He hears her draw in a breath.
"It's nothing, really," she says, quickly, "but I'm not -- I -- I don't like it here anymore. I don't feel safe. And no, there's nobody threatening me, and it'd be fine if you were here, if you were -- I think I need you, Squall."
For a moment, he sits in silence, testing the limits of the statement and the response that springs to mind, pondering, weighing up the possibilities. He tries to just say it, but words never come out like that. Or if they do, they come out wrong. She knows. She forgives. He takes a deep breath. "I know, I think -- well, I'm your knight."
"Yeah," Rinoa says, relief edging her voice. "You understand."
"I think I do."
There's a long pause, and he flips through his calendar again. There's work to be doing, but he could pack most of it up, and Quistis did offer him a hand -- and his secretary is a blessing in disguise, at least once you get used to her chatter. She'd probably get on fine with Quistis for a while, he could --
"Okay," he says. "I'm coming to see you."
"When?"
"Now."
He puts the phone down without saying goodbye, feeling the faint thread of connection between them. Sorceress and knight. Bound by whatever. Fate. Necessity. Love, that even then had been creeping under his skin.
Whatever.
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