There won't be any point in cleaning up before they've tackled the roof, but Squall knows they'll need the water eventually. It feels especially true after he's dug Revolver up, unearthing its case and his duffle about a half mile from the cabin. Lugging provisions wasn't exactly unfamiliar, but Squall was grateful all the same when he finally got them inside.
It's a much more delicate affair after. Opening his gunblade case to fetch his cleaning kit without flashing the blade inside is a conscious decision. He's not here to make Seifer feel on edge. Even after their confessions, there's still the violence they'd enacted against each other to own up to.
"What are you working with first? I'll make that a priority," he remarks of the tools Seifer's found. Their condition are in varying states of rust or grime. Nothing he can't sand or polish out. The work is good. It gives him something to focus on that's not Seifer's mouth or the ever nagging fear of Time.
By the time the hole is mostly patched, the sun is just touching down on the horizon, casting golden light through grimy windows. Squall's never been more grateful for a basin of water to wash his hands in, annoyed by the splinter he managed to get somewhere during their day's work. Worth it, however, for the view that came with Seifer glistening with sweat and focused on something that isn't trying to kill him.
"It'll hold," he calls to urge Seifer down. The final touches were ones he left Seifer to, dividing the labor of heating up their water but mostly wanting to get back inside.
no subject
It's a much more delicate affair after. Opening his gunblade case to fetch his cleaning kit without flashing the blade inside is a conscious decision. He's not here to make Seifer feel on edge. Even after their confessions, there's still the violence they'd enacted against each other to own up to.
"What are you working with first? I'll make that a priority," he remarks of the tools Seifer's found. Their condition are in varying states of rust or grime. Nothing he can't sand or polish out. The work is good. It gives him something to focus on that's not Seifer's mouth or the ever nagging fear of Time.
By the time the hole is mostly patched, the sun is just touching down on the horizon, casting golden light through grimy windows. Squall's never been more grateful for a basin of water to wash his hands in, annoyed by the splinter he managed to get somewhere during their day's work. Worth it, however, for the view that came with Seifer glistening with sweat and focused on something that isn't trying to kill him.
"It'll hold," he calls to urge Seifer down. The final touches were ones he left Seifer to, dividing the labor of heating up their water but mostly wanting to get back inside.