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Entry tags:
FFVIII: Thrown Away
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Squall/Fujin
Warnings: Angst, deathfic
Rating: G
Summary: Cold comfort after Seifer's suicide. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fated_children.
"He always wanted to tie up the loose ends," Fujin says, looking at the grave. Squall wants to say something. He is, after all, her lover, though that word seems strange to explain their relationship: they are so far apart in some ways. And yet "fuck buddy" is completely wrong as well, and sometimes they seem to be barely friends. It's one of those things that could only happen in an atmosphere like Garden since the war, he thinks.
"He did like to keep things tidy," he says, finally, thinking of Seifer's room. The few times he saw it, he'd always noticed a painful level of tidiness. Seifer wanted to keep things simple. It was a pity he'd been so full of dreams, that he'd aspired to grandeur. He should've known it wouldn't work, just from the painful tidiness of his own room. He wanted none of the complications that came with power -- in his case, the power to sow fear wherever he went, in the end, though he hadn't dealt with the power his sorceress had given him any better.
"We were supposed to be a posse for life," she says, and for once he thinks that her new found expressiveness is a bad thing. Her voice drips pain and makes him feel guilty for the comfort he can't give.
"He threw you away," he says, and he doesn't look at her. "I won't."
Any other woman might have teased him. Rinoa might've asked him if that was a love confession. Fujin did reach out and touch his hand, but she didn't take it, and she didn't tangle their fingers. They just stood there, barely touching.
"I'm sorry," he says.
"I'm not," Fujin tells him, firmly, lifting her head. "Seifer's choices are Seifer's choices. He wouldn't pick something he'd regret."
"I meant... I'm sorry for you."
She looks at him quickly. "I like that even less than he did."
He's smiling, however inappropriate it feels. "I know."
Pairing: Squall/Fujin
Warnings: Angst, deathfic
Rating: G
Summary: Cold comfort after Seifer's suicide. For
fated_children."He always wanted to tie up the loose ends," Fujin says, looking at the grave. Squall wants to say something. He is, after all, her lover, though that word seems strange to explain their relationship: they are so far apart in some ways. And yet "fuck buddy" is completely wrong as well, and sometimes they seem to be barely friends. It's one of those things that could only happen in an atmosphere like Garden since the war, he thinks.
"He did like to keep things tidy," he says, finally, thinking of Seifer's room. The few times he saw it, he'd always noticed a painful level of tidiness. Seifer wanted to keep things simple. It was a pity he'd been so full of dreams, that he'd aspired to grandeur. He should've known it wouldn't work, just from the painful tidiness of his own room. He wanted none of the complications that came with power -- in his case, the power to sow fear wherever he went, in the end, though he hadn't dealt with the power his sorceress had given him any better.
"We were supposed to be a posse for life," she says, and for once he thinks that her new found expressiveness is a bad thing. Her voice drips pain and makes him feel guilty for the comfort he can't give.
"He threw you away," he says, and he doesn't look at her. "I won't."
Any other woman might have teased him. Rinoa might've asked him if that was a love confession. Fujin did reach out and touch his hand, but she didn't take it, and she didn't tangle their fingers. They just stood there, barely touching.
"I'm sorry," he says.
"I'm not," Fujin tells him, firmly, lifting her head. "Seifer's choices are Seifer's choices. He wouldn't pick something he'd regret."
"I meant... I'm sorry for you."
She looks at him quickly. "I like that even less than he did."
He's smiling, however inappropriate it feels. "I know."