Of course he's judging. He's looking for signs of someone who wants to live. Who hasn't resigned himself. For some small spark of the Seifer that had charged forward through life, damn the odds stacked against him. He sees it in small pockets and it makes him breathe a little easier, relaxing into the ramshackle home. The weight of Seifer's presence however is one that overwhelms. They haven't been cordial in years. His body is thrumming with an adrenaline that's trying to prepare him for a fight even if his brain can't pick out the signs of one brewing.
Can he do this?
No, that doesn't matter. He owes it to Seifer to try and he wants...he needs the closure of everything they never got to talk about. All those days leading up to the SeeD exam have burned through him, making an indelible mark on his soul. And then the morning of...Hyne, he has so many questions and he would give anything to put the gleam back in Seifer's eyes because it wasn't some ineffable force that drove it out, it was him.
Having something to do that isn't getting lost in his own thoughts is a gift he's not sure Seifer knows he's offering, but Squall nods, happy to take orders after shouldering the weight of command for so long. The fire is something he starts by hand, taking the logs stacked by the hearth and lighting with practiced ease. The stove earns the same treatment before he goes to lift the bucket dolly but he finally idles at the door. "Don't run." It doesn't sound like an order when he says it, but Squall doesn't linger in the weariness of his own words and instead puts himself to the task of hauling fresh water from the well to the cabin so Seifer can have hot water to wash up with.
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ninetydegrees
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on 2024-11-11 07:32 pm (UTC)Can he do this?
No, that doesn't matter. He owes it to Seifer to try and he wants...he needs the closure of everything they never got to talk about. All those days leading up to the SeeD exam have burned through him, making an indelible mark on his soul. And then the morning of...Hyne, he has so many questions and he would give anything to put the gleam back in Seifer's eyes because it wasn't some ineffable force that drove it out, it was him.
Having something to do that isn't getting lost in his own thoughts is a gift he's not sure Seifer knows he's offering, but Squall nods, happy to take orders after shouldering the weight of command for so long. The fire is something he starts by hand, taking the logs stacked by the hearth and lighting with practiced ease. The stove earns the same treatment before he goes to lift the bucket dolly but he finally idles at the door. "Don't run." It doesn't sound like an order when he says it, but Squall doesn't linger in the weariness of his own words and instead puts himself to the task of hauling fresh water from the well to the cabin so Seifer can have hot water to wash up with.