(no subject)
Originally posted to akai_kitsune on Feb 19, 2007~
Title: Stay With Me
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Word Count: 839
Spoilers: Guy's past.
Summary: Pre-game ficlet; young Luke is learning, and Guy is trying not to like it.
"Father... Father says I'm doing much better now."
Guy hesitated for only a second, so briefly it was almost unnoticable. "Well, he should. You've been making a lot of progress."
Though he was facing away, he could tell Luke was smiling as he replied. "Y... yes. Thank you..."
He could never quite conceal the surprise when the boy thanked him. He'd never said it before his kidnapping, in all the time Guy had known him, but it was among the first phrases he'd taught him. Vaguely, he wondered how long the habit would last, how long it would take for the rich-kid mindset to return.
He was in the middle of hoping it wouldn't when he realized there was no reason to hope for such a thing - the boy was going to die, anyway. Such an attitude would only make it easier to kill him.
Eyes narrowing slightly, he went back to stroking the fine brush through Luke's steadily growing hair, working out the tangles and knots as he'd done since the boy was first given to him to care for. He was no longer bothered by having to sit on the bed - Luke found it more comfortable, and it wasn't as if he could walk yet. Guy hadn't taught him that yet; Duke Fabre didn't want him leaving the room until his speech was acceptable for every day conversation. He felt this was needlessly cruel, but it didn't surprise him. He'd never expected kindness from the man who had slaughtered his family and laughed all the while.
"Feels good," Luke murmured, hands fisted in the blankets in front of him.
"'It feels good'," Guy corrected calmly, his hands never stopping, inwardly counting the strokes. Luke's hair was technically already straightened enough, but the feel of it being brushed soothed him and helped him relax, which afterwards made him easier to teach. Guy had found that unless it was brushed a certain number of times, Luke would grow restless or protest.
"Huh?"
"'It feels good'," he patiently repeated. "Your father wants you to speak in full sentences. If you want to leave this room, he has to approve your skills. He's told me to correct you."
"... Oh." Luke was quiet for a long moment. "... Um... Guy..."
"What is it?"
"...."
"Luke," Guy sighed softly, "You can't do that. If you have something to say, you need to say it."
"I... I can't help it," Luke protested faintly, pouting again. "I don't know all the words yet..."
Guy pursed his lips. "Alright. Say it simply, and I'll help you figure out the rest."
Fidgeting for a moment, Luke finally managed, "I... want to get better. F-faster. I want to see everything..."
"You're doing fine, though." Guy blinked, curious at the younger boy's rising interest in his own improvement. "We already talked about that."
"Stay with me more, Guy," Luke continued, as if he'd never tried to reassure him. This prompted another blink. "Stay with me all day, okay? And teach me everything."
"'Please'," Guy corrected instinctively, before the words could register in his mind. "I have chores-"
"Give them to somebody else! I can ask Father." Luke curved his head back to give him a pleading look, hands still wringing in the blankets. "He wants me to get better. He will say yes. So... stay, okay?"
"I..." Guy hesitated again, the brush half lifted, frozen in place. He had no idea how to respond to that, how to even react. Luke had discovered the puppy look. That damned puppy look. And he knew it got him practically everything...
"Guy," Luke was saying again, turning around and tugging lightly on his sleeve. "Guy, please?"
... Well, damn. "Okay, fine," Guy deflated, finally nodding his assent. "If your father says I-"
"YAY!"
Guy was suddenly cut off, breath shooting out of his lungs as the other boy slammed into him, knocking him over till his back hit the bed. His hand was halfway to his belt for the knife that wasn't there when he realized Luke had his arms wrapped around his waist, and was snuggling happily against his chest. "Thank you, Guy!" he said happily, expression pleased and almost victorious. "Thank you!"
He furrowed his brows, free hand resting on Luke's shoulder as if to pull him away, the other - still holding the brush like a dagger ready to plunge downwards - in the hair, hovering above him.
He hadn't allowed anyone to hug him in a very, very long time. And servants didn't get hugs from their masters. It wasn't right.
Stop trusting me, you idiot. I'm going to cut your throat, and I'm going to laugh like your bastard father did, and I'll watch as you choke, and won't you feel awful for doing this when the time comes...?
Guy closed his eyes, letting the brush drop from his limp fingers and shifting his arms to hold the boy to his chest. "You're welcome, Luke," he whispered, and for some reason, he meant it.
Title: Stay With Me
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Word Count: 839
Spoilers: Guy's past.
Summary: Pre-game ficlet; young Luke is learning, and Guy is trying not to like it.
"Father... Father says I'm doing much better now."
Guy hesitated for only a second, so briefly it was almost unnoticable. "Well, he should. You've been making a lot of progress."
Though he was facing away, he could tell Luke was smiling as he replied. "Y... yes. Thank you..."
He could never quite conceal the surprise when the boy thanked him. He'd never said it before his kidnapping, in all the time Guy had known him, but it was among the first phrases he'd taught him. Vaguely, he wondered how long the habit would last, how long it would take for the rich-kid mindset to return.
He was in the middle of hoping it wouldn't when he realized there was no reason to hope for such a thing - the boy was going to die, anyway. Such an attitude would only make it easier to kill him.
Eyes narrowing slightly, he went back to stroking the fine brush through Luke's steadily growing hair, working out the tangles and knots as he'd done since the boy was first given to him to care for. He was no longer bothered by having to sit on the bed - Luke found it more comfortable, and it wasn't as if he could walk yet. Guy hadn't taught him that yet; Duke Fabre didn't want him leaving the room until his speech was acceptable for every day conversation. He felt this was needlessly cruel, but it didn't surprise him. He'd never expected kindness from the man who had slaughtered his family and laughed all the while.
"Feels good," Luke murmured, hands fisted in the blankets in front of him.
"'It feels good'," Guy corrected calmly, his hands never stopping, inwardly counting the strokes. Luke's hair was technically already straightened enough, but the feel of it being brushed soothed him and helped him relax, which afterwards made him easier to teach. Guy had found that unless it was brushed a certain number of times, Luke would grow restless or protest.
"Huh?"
"'It feels good'," he patiently repeated. "Your father wants you to speak in full sentences. If you want to leave this room, he has to approve your skills. He's told me to correct you."
"... Oh." Luke was quiet for a long moment. "... Um... Guy..."
"What is it?"
"...."
"Luke," Guy sighed softly, "You can't do that. If you have something to say, you need to say it."
"I... I can't help it," Luke protested faintly, pouting again. "I don't know all the words yet..."
Guy pursed his lips. "Alright. Say it simply, and I'll help you figure out the rest."
Fidgeting for a moment, Luke finally managed, "I... want to get better. F-faster. I want to see everything..."
"You're doing fine, though." Guy blinked, curious at the younger boy's rising interest in his own improvement. "We already talked about that."
"Stay with me more, Guy," Luke continued, as if he'd never tried to reassure him. This prompted another blink. "Stay with me all day, okay? And teach me everything."
"'Please'," Guy corrected instinctively, before the words could register in his mind. "I have chores-"
"Give them to somebody else! I can ask Father." Luke curved his head back to give him a pleading look, hands still wringing in the blankets. "He wants me to get better. He will say yes. So... stay, okay?"
"I..." Guy hesitated again, the brush half lifted, frozen in place. He had no idea how to respond to that, how to even react. Luke had discovered the puppy look. That damned puppy look. And he knew it got him practically everything...
"Guy," Luke was saying again, turning around and tugging lightly on his sleeve. "Guy, please?"
... Well, damn. "Okay, fine," Guy deflated, finally nodding his assent. "If your father says I-"
"YAY!"
Guy was suddenly cut off, breath shooting out of his lungs as the other boy slammed into him, knocking him over till his back hit the bed. His hand was halfway to his belt for the knife that wasn't there when he realized Luke had his arms wrapped around his waist, and was snuggling happily against his chest. "Thank you, Guy!" he said happily, expression pleased and almost victorious. "Thank you!"
He furrowed his brows, free hand resting on Luke's shoulder as if to pull him away, the other - still holding the brush like a dagger ready to plunge downwards - in the hair, hovering above him.
He hadn't allowed anyone to hug him in a very, very long time. And servants didn't get hugs from their masters. It wasn't right.
Stop trusting me, you idiot. I'm going to cut your throat, and I'm going to laugh like your bastard father did, and I'll watch as you choke, and won't you feel awful for doing this when the time comes...?
Guy closed his eyes, letting the brush drop from his limp fingers and shifting his arms to hold the boy to his chest. "You're welcome, Luke," he whispered, and for some reason, he meant it.