~Wings of an Angel~

@burntchild

She huffs, not quite a snort, at his antics. Rolling her eyes as she smiles at him fondly, she lightly drags her fingers through his hair. 

Continued from here

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;; This is very pretty! I didn't want to post it without searching for the original artist, since there doesn't seem to be a signature. After some digging, I haven't really found somewhere I could link to but it appears the artist may be someone called Hirano Katsuyuki.

She ponders for a moment, scratching at her head with the tip of her finger. By all means, it makes sense. With that explanation, at least. Or it makes enough sense to stop questioning the validity of it. Clearly, she’s had enough practice.  Bit it still bothers her. She purses her lips and hums to herself, nodding as she plots. “Say, you wouldn’t mind if I tried it, would you?” Sure, it will probably go horribly wrong if the woman agrees, but they’re about the same size and she considers herself to be pretty strong so if Rinoa can do it, why can’t she also do it? If she refuses, well…Rikku will just have to find a way to do it.

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Her query takes Rinoa by surprise, her brain taking several seconds to fully digest just what Rikku was asking. She looks at Angelo, her mind working at the possibilities. The main concern, would be how Angelo herself would react. She’s trained to respond to Rinoa’s commands, and knows what to do after much practice. Would she respond to Rikku if she gave the same command?

“I... don’t see why not. If Angelo goes along with it that is. You’d have to mimic the command, and we’ll need to see if she comes to you when you do it.”

It takes a few minutes for her to unhook the straps that holds her weapon in place, loosening them so she can slide it off and pass it to the blonde. She helps her with making sure it’s positioned and tightened correctly before stepping back and giving one more look at Angelo. The shepherd watches them, her small tail lightly wagging making the bottom look like it’s wiggling in anticipation. 

   The girl, Heartilly, is overjoyed, exceeding Fujin’s estimations of her response. It is strange. But Fujin is used to expecting strangeness from her, and thus finds no reason to shrink away from the other. It is strange, how pleased the other girl is at a set of contact details that likely would never be utilized during their upcoming separation from Timber. After all, for what reason would she or Rai call Heartilly? The only reason that Fujin could think of would be Seifer. However, the blonde posse is insistent on his boundaries— –he does not accept Raijin’s overenthusiastic and invalid advice about dating && he does not accept her own scathing criticism of his flings ( not any more, at least, and not without preparing himself beforehand ).

   Heartilly’s enthusiasm feeds the warmth in her chest, the relaxation of tenseness from her shoulders.

   Until, of course, she starts bouncing into Fujin’s perimeter, the unspoken space that surrounds her, a layer of padding that separates away her thoughts from the grating presence of others. She does not retreat though, cannot without possibly hurting the other’s feelings. It is a novel thing, to actually be care about hurting someone’s feelings–but this is… she is someone that Seifer values. It is enough for Fujin to care, a little bit.

   “TEXT.” She interjects into Heartilly’s rambling, a pointed frown in place. Talking she would leave to others; sending information to Heartilly via text? Mildly amenable were her thoughts as she watches Heartilly scribble down; mildly amenable they stayed as she painlessly copied the numbers into her device. 

   A pause. She glances up, through the veil of silver, finding Heartilly still hovering in her presence. It is… not as bad as it could have been. She is not bad. From her lips fall the thanks, well overdue.

   “…APPRECIATED, HEARTILLY.”

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Her smile feels as though it will never leave as she takes a step back. She's learned, well enough, that Fujin doesn't care for hugs or light touches that she's used to handing out without thought. Though her fingers twitch with want to give the other girl an embrace, she settles for enjoying the offer to text in communication; it is at least not a denial to attempt conversation at a later date.

"Of course! Right. Texting would be easier, 'cause you guys are going back to school and you might be busy." It does put a damper on the excitement, the reminder that they are leaving and though she loves the Owls, it will be strange to no longer see them almost every day.

Especially Seifer. She hadn't expected to fall for him as hard as she had, but here they were.

"We should probably head back, before the guys get antsy." She laughs, waving her hand in the direction they had left them. She doubted that Seifer would linger in the bookstore with Raijin alone for long, especially since Rai had been excited about Timber's bookstore having a copy of a book he'd been waiting to come in at the Garden library. Maybe she'd buy it for his as a farewell present.

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She's tried calling but gotten no answer from Seifer. Her last text to him was to confirm her arrival to the Balamb Hotel the night before and it has went unanswered. She'd expected... Well, she didn't know what she had expected, really. Something other than this radio silence.

She'd be worried if not for the fact that Fuu and Rai had sent her messages confirming he'd made it back from the exam. They weren't detailed, but she guessed they had known she was worried and it was nice that they had thought to tell her. Granted, it hadn't been overly detailed, but she hadn't begun to worry until her calls repeatedly went to voicemail without ringing, with no return call despite her messages.

She dresses anyway, taking special care with the process and arrives at the Garden with other guests just in time. An invitation she'd been sent by mail weeks ago is taken at the door, and she finds herself in the hallway outside the ballroom feeling a drop in her confidence.

Maybe something happened to his phone on the mission? Or maybe Cid wouldn't agree to see her, and she came out here for nothing? Well, not, not for nothing. She wasn't just here for the contract. She'd also hoped to see Seifer. To dance with him in a fancy ballroom like something out of a fairytale.

Biting her lip she moves away from the door and pulls out her phone from the small clutch she'd brought with her. Her fingers hover for a moment before bringing up a contact she knows is reliable to tell her the truth without sugar-coating it.

[Text: Fujin] Hey, I'm outside the ballroom but Seifer isn't answering his cell. Is he okay?

“Heartilly– Rinoa.” 

Xu is not good at this, the offering of cold comfort to a grieving woman. She reaches, pauses. Peels off one black leather glove and lets it rest on Rinoa’s shoulder. 

“Good,” she says, and it’s not what she meant– she doesn’t want this girl to need that bangle, that preventative measure against completely losing her mind to grief. Xu doesn’t know quite how to recant that, and to make it sound less cold, but she tries. 

“Listen. If you– need anything, come to me, alright? Anything I can help you with.” She’ll be keeping a close eye on Rinoa anyway, and being at least a… friend, Xu supposes, is the least she can do. 

“And for what it’s worth, Rinoa– I am sorry for your loss.” 

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There are... similarities between Xu and Squall, in which Xu's comfort both helps and hinders. She learned, at seventeen, to read between the words unspoken with the more reserved of Balamb Garden's SeeD. So she understands that other woman doesn't quite know how to handle this, handle her.

But she's trying. And that's what matters.

The slight warmth from Xu's hand on her shoulder helps center her, in some small way. The actual touch from someone else, someone who isn't afraid of her. Not true. Not really. She's afraid of what she could become. Afraid that without Squall, without her Knight, she will come undone, she knows. But no one is more afraid than the sorceress herself.

The condolences are what make her chest ache again. She breathes through it, bringing one hand to her head, as though striving off a panic attack. And maybe that could be what they were, in some way. But they've all borne scars, others more so than her.