The opposite of the hatred he thought he'd felt was something Squall didn't know how to articulate. He'd already tried in his own way to talk about all the ways Seifer's actions before the war had affected him but it had just come out lacking in all the ways that mattered. He purses his lips, furrows his brows, and listens instead.
How they've hurt each other, how they could hurt each other, is something that has Squall setting the wash rag back in the basin. They know each other's weakest parts. If they wanted to, either of them could neutralize the other in an instant. However when he looks at Seifer's eyes, he doesn't see the same frenetic bloodlust that had been there during the war. He doesn't see the mania or the frenzy, just a bone deep exhaustion from a man who has seen too much.
His touch trails its way down to Seifer's wrists before urging his hands up. Up and around the pale, elegant column of his throaf. They have never offered this to each other. Duels are forfeited with an incline of a chin. To bare one's neck was to trust without reservation.
Seifer could end him right here in Nida's rundown cabin. But he won't. Squall's eyes stay locked with the other man's, unflinching in his faith. "Both of us could. Both of us might." His breath has picked up from the sheer intimacy of the act. The gesture wholly surreal if only because it wasn't preempted by violence. "Like this or in other ways that can't be seen. But we know this dance. We've been practicing it our whole lives."
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ninetydegrees
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on 2025-01-29 08:44 am (UTC)How they've hurt each other, how they could hurt each other, is something that has Squall setting the wash rag back in the basin. They know each other's weakest parts. If they wanted to, either of them could neutralize the other in an instant. However when he looks at Seifer's eyes, he doesn't see the same frenetic bloodlust that had been there during the war. He doesn't see the mania or the frenzy, just a bone deep exhaustion from a man who has seen too much.
His touch trails its way down to Seifer's wrists before urging his hands up. Up and around the pale, elegant column of his throaf. They have never offered this to each other. Duels are forfeited with an incline of a chin. To bare one's neck was to trust without reservation.
Seifer could end him right here in Nida's rundown cabin. But he won't. Squall's eyes stay locked with the other man's, unflinching in his faith. "Both of us could. Both of us might." His breath has picked up from the sheer intimacy of the act. The gesture wholly surreal if only because it wasn't preempted by violence. "Like this or in other ways that can't be seen. But we know this dance. We've been practicing it our whole lives."