![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
FFVIII: Clumsy
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Squall/Rinoa
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: Seifer will kill Squall if he breaks her. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fated_children.
"It's destiny, you know," she said, leaning against the bridge. He quirked an eyebrow, going to stand beside her and looking down at the bright, gleaming tracks. He waited, and when she didn't say anything, cleared his throat.
"What is?"
"That we met."
He thought about the war. About his rivalry with Squall. The way that Squall would barely let him near Rinoa, even if all he wanted to do was apologise -- be her friend again. He didn't want her back (god, how that relationship had been doomed from the start), but he'd always liked her, even if it wasn't the same kind of like as she wanted it to be.
"Why?"
"Because it was destiny for me to meet Squall," she said, softly, and her eyes were far away, "for me and him to become Sorceress and Knight. And without you, we wouldn't have met."
"Destiny has a way of doing its own thing. Even without me, you'd've met Squall," he told her, but he was a little glad (secretly) to think that he had a part in bringing about one of those romances that everyone knows about and remembers. Fairytale weddings and all that.
He looks at her, then, and felt the trembling of the bridge. A train coming. He looked at her, her hair shaken loose, spilling over her face and caressing her cheekbones. She's always been beautiful. Fragile. Too fragile.
He knows Leonhart, Leonhart's rough, skilled hands, those could-be-clumsy hands. He's almost tempted to take his gunblade and tell Squall that, destiny be damned, if he ever breaks Rinoa, Hyperion will get stuck right down his throat.
Pairing: Squall/Rinoa
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: Seifer will kill Squall if he breaks her. For
fated_children."It's destiny, you know," she said, leaning against the bridge. He quirked an eyebrow, going to stand beside her and looking down at the bright, gleaming tracks. He waited, and when she didn't say anything, cleared his throat.
"What is?"
"That we met."
He thought about the war. About his rivalry with Squall. The way that Squall would barely let him near Rinoa, even if all he wanted to do was apologise -- be her friend again. He didn't want her back (god, how that relationship had been doomed from the start), but he'd always liked her, even if it wasn't the same kind of like as she wanted it to be.
"Why?"
"Because it was destiny for me to meet Squall," she said, softly, and her eyes were far away, "for me and him to become Sorceress and Knight. And without you, we wouldn't have met."
"Destiny has a way of doing its own thing. Even without me, you'd've met Squall," he told her, but he was a little glad (secretly) to think that he had a part in bringing about one of those romances that everyone knows about and remembers. Fairytale weddings and all that.
He looks at her, then, and felt the trembling of the bridge. A train coming. He looked at her, her hair shaken loose, spilling over her face and caressing her cheekbones. She's always been beautiful. Fragile. Too fragile.
He knows Leonhart, Leonhart's rough, skilled hands, those could-be-clumsy hands. He's almost tempted to take his gunblade and tell Squall that, destiny be damned, if he ever breaks Rinoa, Hyperion will get stuck right down his throat.
no subject