PP

infusedblues:

image

"You should probably relax for the day. Might get worse if ya don’t."

 ❝  —I’m fine. ❞  

   Oh, somewhere deep

          inside of these { bones }

                   an emptiness   begins to grow .

@falsamilitis said: orz 2 cute 4 me

not cute.

infusedblues:

image

"Need a tissue?"

  ❝ Please❞  

     He stands there, silent, and then—

                                                            ❝ —snnk.

falsamilitis:

image

     "That bad, huh." While not uttered in complete seriousness, he could well understand the need to wander. Cloud had partaken in such goalless motions numerous times himself, after all— a heavy kind of restlessness that made home seem less like what it truly was and more like a trap, a cage that he had no part in.

      Yet Vincent didn’t really have a home any more, did he? The wooden frame he’d holed himself into years previously must’ve become dusty and cold by now, made discomforting by the lingering presence of ghosts and darkened thoughts. Where else was he to go but nowhere, wandering as the years bled by and friends grew old without him.

      Maybe Cloud would be joining him soon, when Tifa was gone and the children followed. They’d been altered so similarly, after all.

      At least they would not be alone, Cloud thought.

       "Get anywhere?" Softened mutter barely audible over the light clink of porcelain and bubbling of heating liquid, silence would once again reign free come the moment the once mentioned beverage was offered to his late-night companion. Having brewed enough coffee for two, bare hands curled about his own cup as a seat nearby was settled into, luminescent gaze remaining downwards in order to watch the slow creep of steam rise and dissipate.

      There is the faintest hint of a smile on his lips, half-hidden by his cloak—  a pretense of defense, were he honest about it; a pretense there is no need for here, not around Cloud. Deft fingers unhook the cloak with swiftness born of experience. The old thing is laid across the back of his chair, and, though for a moment Vincent may feel vulnerable, it passes.  

                                                          ❝ —Like the tides, life ebbs and flows. 

      Perhaps a cryptic response to others, but obvious
enough to him— he thinks it will be so to Cloud also.  

      The second question is considered just as carefully, even as Vincent reaches for his cup, threading thin fingers nearly all the way around it’s curving surface. He taps one finger gently against its surface, thoughtful expression as he considers how best to answer.

image

      ❝ …Nowhere of importance. ❞  In other words, Vincent had studiously avoided any locations laden with traumatic or sad memories. It took strength to face such things, and strength was something he felt he lacked of late— or maybe he was only a coward. Shaking the thoughts away, Vincent raises his cup to drink from it, and his eyes flick back up to meet Clouds after a brief consideration of the coffee. It tastes nearly the same as he remembers.

       ❝ How have things been here? ❞

ff meme: eight scenes → cloud & vincent in the sleeping forest
isn’t it time you did the forgiving?

falsamilitis:

image

      “How’ve you been?” A casual inquiry if nothing else, for there is no need to point out the lacking information the gunner provides on his own whims. As taciturn as they could both be there was still the clear line of comradeship present between them, if not something more; thus it was effortless to enjoy the quiet kind of company the once-Turk typically offered. “—Hey, want some coffee? There’s still some left in the pot.” Made for his own mug perhaps, but there was no harm in sharing.

image

          ❝ . . .  ❞  

How has he been? Tired. Strangely lost at times; both quite literally and sometimes metaphorically. It’s a moment before he realizes he’s let silence lapse into their conversation. With a blink, Vincent steps forward.  ❝ Coffee would be— wonderful. ❞  More than, even. Another pause, and he settles into a chair, fingers pressing into the wood of the table to balance himself as he does so and takes a moment to observe the quiet darkness of the room before he speaks again. 

 ❝  I haven’t done much of anything.  ❞  

                   There’s a sort of self-deprecating amusement in his words.

                                                                                                  ❝  Other than walk. ❞  

He may not be answering the question regarding his welfare, but at least he’s answering the very first question Cloud asked. In a roundabout manner. He’ll blame the tired ache behind his eyes if bothered about it, thought he doubts Cloud would tease him about his lethargic mannerisms and comprehension of things at the moment.