FFVIII: Inertia
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: None
Warnings: Angst
Rating: G
Summary: Growing up or running away. For irish_ais, on my request meme.
He had arranged the room so carefully: he sat with his back against a wall, the desk between him and the room; he faced the door; the window was far enough away for him to see it completely every time he glanced up. The desk was carefully positioned even between those necessities: enough room for him to maneuver, little enough that it would trouble anyone else. Edea took all of that in as she entered the room. She knew he knew she was there. He would have heard her footsteps minutes before she entered the room, and as she stepped in, the rustle of her clothes, and the sound of her breathing.
"Squall," she said, quietly. The room was painfully tidy, as Squall's corner of the room in the Orphanage had always been. She was sure he had reasons for all of it: the neat piles would be ordered so that when he needed something, he would find it exactly where he left it; the simple, uncomfortable chairs a nod to the fact that most people in there would be hurried right out again. The space, a necessity for someone who would go mad in a cage -- and a precaution, in case of attack.
It was the attention to detail of a SeeD -- or the meticulous care of a frightened child building his blanket fort.
"Matron," he said, looking up. His blue-grey eyes were cautious, and tired. "What brings you here?"
"I heard about Rinoa."
"From who?" he asked, half angrily, and then stopped, and sighed. "It was in the papers, wasn't it?"
"It was. But she herself asked me to come and check on you..."
For a moment, Squall looked as if he might spit out something bitter and angry, but in the end, he didn't say anything. He didn't look at her again. "She's left me. Why does she care?"
"Because she's a genuinely nice and mature girl," Edea said, and perhaps there was a little hardness in her voice. She moved over to him, noting with regret how quickly he reacted to the sound of movement -- tensing, head lifting as if to meet the danger head on. "You can't stay in here all day."
"I have work to do, that's all."
"Squall..."
"Garden goes on, with or without Rinoa."
"So do you, Squall." Edea sat down on the edge of his desk, feeling as if even that wasn't close enough to get through to him. To remind him. "You haven't changed at all since you were a child."
He looked up, then, but his eyebrow was raised: inquiring, disbelieving. Almost disdaining.
"You haven't grown up at all inside."
"This isn't being an adult?" He snorted softly, nudging a pile so it tipped, forms and letters spilling across the desk. "Look at all this. If I was being a child, I would just set it on fire."
Edea righted the pile again. "Just because one person left you doesn't mean everyone will. Even Rinoa hasn't really left you. She still cares about you. You can't just close up again every time someone hurts you. It's safe, but it's a child's way. It's running away."
He didn't look at her. "I'm not interested in a lecture."
"Alright," she said, straightening again. She brushed out her skirt, smoothed the wrinkles from it, deliberately, slowly. Squall was bent over his work again, holding his pen awkwardly, frowning. His hair fell in his face and he didn't move to push it back. She almost moved to push it away from his eyes, wondering what she'd see. But then she shook her head and turned, leaving the room. She was halfway down the corridor, steps quickening, when she heard him call to her.
"Wait." He appeared in the doorway as she turned back. "Matron. Thank you."
She smiled. And he smiled back. Just a little. "I'll see you soon."
"You will," he said, and turned away again.
Pairing: None
Warnings: Angst
Rating: G
Summary: Growing up or running away. For irish_ais, on my request meme.
He had arranged the room so carefully: he sat with his back against a wall, the desk between him and the room; he faced the door; the window was far enough away for him to see it completely every time he glanced up. The desk was carefully positioned even between those necessities: enough room for him to maneuver, little enough that it would trouble anyone else. Edea took all of that in as she entered the room. She knew he knew she was there. He would have heard her footsteps minutes before she entered the room, and as she stepped in, the rustle of her clothes, and the sound of her breathing.
"Squall," she said, quietly. The room was painfully tidy, as Squall's corner of the room in the Orphanage had always been. She was sure he had reasons for all of it: the neat piles would be ordered so that when he needed something, he would find it exactly where he left it; the simple, uncomfortable chairs a nod to the fact that most people in there would be hurried right out again. The space, a necessity for someone who would go mad in a cage -- and a precaution, in case of attack.
It was the attention to detail of a SeeD -- or the meticulous care of a frightened child building his blanket fort.
"Matron," he said, looking up. His blue-grey eyes were cautious, and tired. "What brings you here?"
"I heard about Rinoa."
"From who?" he asked, half angrily, and then stopped, and sighed. "It was in the papers, wasn't it?"
"It was. But she herself asked me to come and check on you..."
For a moment, Squall looked as if he might spit out something bitter and angry, but in the end, he didn't say anything. He didn't look at her again. "She's left me. Why does she care?"
"Because she's a genuinely nice and mature girl," Edea said, and perhaps there was a little hardness in her voice. She moved over to him, noting with regret how quickly he reacted to the sound of movement -- tensing, head lifting as if to meet the danger head on. "You can't stay in here all day."
"I have work to do, that's all."
"Squall..."
"Garden goes on, with or without Rinoa."
"So do you, Squall." Edea sat down on the edge of his desk, feeling as if even that wasn't close enough to get through to him. To remind him. "You haven't changed at all since you were a child."
He looked up, then, but his eyebrow was raised: inquiring, disbelieving. Almost disdaining.
"You haven't grown up at all inside."
"This isn't being an adult?" He snorted softly, nudging a pile so it tipped, forms and letters spilling across the desk. "Look at all this. If I was being a child, I would just set it on fire."
Edea righted the pile again. "Just because one person left you doesn't mean everyone will. Even Rinoa hasn't really left you. She still cares about you. You can't just close up again every time someone hurts you. It's safe, but it's a child's way. It's running away."
He didn't look at her. "I'm not interested in a lecture."
"Alright," she said, straightening again. She brushed out her skirt, smoothed the wrinkles from it, deliberately, slowly. Squall was bent over his work again, holding his pen awkwardly, frowning. His hair fell in his face and he didn't move to push it back. She almost moved to push it away from his eyes, wondering what she'd see. But then she shook her head and turned, leaving the room. She was halfway down the corridor, steps quickening, when she heard him call to her.
"Wait." He appeared in the doorway as she turned back. "Matron. Thank you."
She smiled. And he smiled back. Just a little. "I'll see you soon."
"You will," he said, and turned away again.