#farginen

he picks up hayate and walks inside. typically, he'd definitely ask about the new dog, but his single question has already started to be answered. she's launched into talks of budgets and rebuilding and rights - work is her immediate focus as usual.

and kain will be damned if he interrupts her. she's one of the few people he still has genuine respect for, so he listens and takes in the house rather than talking too much. it's still in progress, being renovated, but it's more homelike than even his own apartment.

then again, his own apartment is mostly empty. there's no paint or decor on the walls, only the bare minimum in terms of furniture, and the only sign of it being inhabited at all is the equipment he usually leaves in the living room.

she tells him to sit down in a tone he's not sure he recognizes from her. but she's still referring to him as sergeant, so...

"yes sir," he replies. "it's been some work for sure."

does he want to get into details? share about how he doesn't like the people he works with now? how his new commanding officer has no idea what he's doing but talks down to kain anyway? how it's still up in the air whether he'll be tried in court for desertion of his post? or, maybe, should he share some of the projects he's working on independently for something a bit more lighthearted?

he holds his tongue. things are different now, and she hasn't asked about any of those things. he wonders when the last time he's rambled to someone was.

@farginen third time is the charm xD

Really? Did this woman not get sarcasm? Because if not, Gemma did not know if she could continue this conversation. “You. Or at least that’s what it seemed like you were trying to be. But, I am assuming that joke went over your head, huh?”

❖

" remember all the times i made excuses to visit your apartment? "  his voice is soft and amused; sipping his apple cider as they watch the snow fall together outside his window. she's always welcome in his hometown, always a special part as rooted as the trees to the little village that houses a life's worth of memories still going.

casually places a flower crown on sakura's head ╰(￣ω￣ｏ)   @farginen​

yarrow  and  peonies      (  and  was  it  time  for  their  bloom  already? )   intertwined  with  baby's  breath  /  strands  of  creamy  pink  and  butter-soft  yellow.  so  seemingly  delicate    (  who  knew  the  hawk's  eye  could  make  something  on  such  fragile  stems?  )    but  built  to  last;  it  sits  sturdy  on  her  head,  a  ruler  of  roses  /  a  benefactress  of  blooms.  they're  soft  as  snow  to  the  touch,  and  she  rubs  a  petal  between  her  fingers,  letting  the  scent  sink  into  her  skin;  it  will  follow  her  throughout  the  day,  that  soft  /  subtle  thing  that  will  make  her  patient's  smile  at  the  offset.

❝  you're  a  woman  of  many  talents,  riza.  ❞      battle-hardened  and  yet  an  eye  for  beauty  /  a  well  of  depths  without  an  end  in  sight.  she  plucks  from  her  diadem  a  peony  in  the  silk-softest  of  pinks,  reaching  up  to  tuck  it  behind  riza's  ear.      ❝  now  everyone  will  think  we  came  from  the  same  garden.  i'll  have  to  return  the  favour  soon.  ❞

@farginen​

    they ache, sometimes. the wounds have been fully healed for months, even the fractures in his metacarpals have stitched back together. it had been worse than cauterizing his own skin simply for its persistence and inconvenience, the limitations in his mobility. the doctors had scolded him, saying the use of his hands in the battle after the initial injury had worsened his condition and it would take longer to heal. he didn’t point out that it was in part thanks to him that they were all still alive to have the argument at all, though it had been tempting. the war hero card was always fun to play and more comfortable now than it had been before.

   some days, though, after long hours writing reports and signing documents and using his hands as much as anyone else, they ache. he doesn’t know if it is a phantom pain or a genuine aggravation of the bones, but it hurts badly enough to keep him awake sometimes. the scars are bold and angry and nearly identical on the front and back of both hands. he massages them each in the hopes of relieving some of the pain but seeing as he uses his own hands to do so it only works so well.