[Final Fantasy X] Days Too Late
Title: Days Too Late
Author: devotfeige
Fandom: Final Fantasy X
Warning(s): (minor) spoilers
Pairing(s): None; Tidus-centric
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine
Notes: I wasn't sure if I should post this. I really burnt myself out in November/December, and writing anything worthwhile since then has been difficult (if not impossible). Rewatching the end of FFX, though, I was reminded how much I love this particular bit of motivation in Tidus' character and really wanted a chance to express that somehow.
"But it's been nearly..."
It's been nearly a day already.
...
"Good. I hope he never comes back."
He hadn't been looking at her when he'd said it, but somehow he was sure that the raw ache he could feel in the air between them would never leave his memories for as long as he lived.
"Do you..." In such a small voice, so fragile, if only he'd-- but he had seen. That was part of it the problem, too. It always had been. "Do you hate him so?"
His hands clenched into fists at his sides, tears burning strong in his eyes: Yes. More than anything. So much that it hurt, sometimes. Most times.
He nodded his head, a short, sharp motion, afraid that if he spoke the frail grasp he had on his emotions might snap under the pressure. He couldn't cry-- he wouldn't let himself. He hated crying. It was weak and it was childish and it was stupid and he hated himself almost as much as he hated his father every time he said as much.
"But, if he dies..." she knelt before him, reaching out to touch his face, thumb brushing gently along his cheek, and he shook with anger at himself for letting her see the tears in his eyes, "You'll never be able to tell him how much you hate him."
He sobbed. In fury, in despair, and she held him close until both their tears had dried.
And then--
Then. He sat at her bedside and cried and hated himself because she'd simply given up and there was nothing he could do. Hated his father because it was his fault to begin with, because he was gone too, because now he was as alone as he'd always felt, except Jecht wasn't even there to rub it in.
And that was it, he thought, that was the worst part: he wasn't even there for him to be angry at anymore.
He'd gone and left before he'd ever had the chance to say it to his face, and Tidus hated him more for that than for everything else combined.
Author: devotfeige
Fandom: Final Fantasy X
Warning(s): (minor) spoilers
Pairing(s): None; Tidus-centric
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine
Notes: I wasn't sure if I should post this. I really burnt myself out in November/December, and writing anything worthwhile since then has been difficult (if not impossible). Rewatching the end of FFX, though, I was reminded how much I love this particular bit of motivation in Tidus' character and really wanted a chance to express that somehow.
"But it's been nearly..."
It's been nearly a day already.
...
"Good. I hope he never comes back."
He hadn't been looking at her when he'd said it, but somehow he was sure that the raw ache he could feel in the air between them would never leave his memories for as long as he lived.
"Do you..." In such a small voice, so fragile, if only he'd-- but he had seen. That was part of it the problem, too. It always had been. "Do you hate him so?"
His hands clenched into fists at his sides, tears burning strong in his eyes: Yes. More than anything. So much that it hurt, sometimes. Most times.
He nodded his head, a short, sharp motion, afraid that if he spoke the frail grasp he had on his emotions might snap under the pressure. He couldn't cry-- he wouldn't let himself. He hated crying. It was weak and it was childish and it was stupid and he hated himself almost as much as he hated his father every time he said as much.
"But, if he dies..." she knelt before him, reaching out to touch his face, thumb brushing gently along his cheek, and he shook with anger at himself for letting her see the tears in his eyes, "You'll never be able to tell him how much you hate him."
He sobbed. In fury, in despair, and she held him close until both their tears had dried.
And then--
Then. He sat at her bedside and cried and hated himself because she'd simply given up and there was nothing he could do. Hated his father because it was his fault to begin with, because he was gone too, because now he was as alone as he'd always felt, except Jecht wasn't even there to rub it in.
And that was it, he thought, that was the worst part: he wasn't even there for him to be angry at anymore.
He'd gone and left before he'd ever had the chance to say it to his face, and Tidus hated him more for that than for everything else combined.