#lookitme queue

The second part of his statement is said sarcastically, but it's clear he would never take the things he's said to Vash back. He doesn't regret being stuck to Vash in the slightest, even if being this close to someone scares him. Perhaps it isn't the prospect of being close that scares him, but the idea of losing that someone…

"Happy birthday, darlin'," he approaches Vash with the cake and offers him a peck on the lips as he closes in, "You're the best disaster that's ever happened to me, and I wouldn't have things any other way."

… Because who knows how things will look like a year from now? :)

@forgivenpunishment

He'd known the footsteps, their weight and their cadence, not bothering to pay too much attention past that, but when Wolfwood actually enters and speaks, Vash's head lifts abruptly. His eyes widen with what might be alarm just before they soften completely, eager to get up and help but--

Well, it looks like Wolfwood's got it. Mostly. And Vash is busy maybe being a little bit emotional because the insults haven't been insults in what feels like longer than he can remember, and isn't that something? He managed to reign himself back in enough to return and double the kiss, quick and affectionate, trying not to let his eyes wander to the cake too quickly.

Who's he kidding, really; the moment Wolfwood isn't his full field of view, blue eyes are very solidly on cake and the thought of cake and booze is both a (maybe) terrible idea and (absolutely) too tempting to resist. "Aw, Wolfwood..." And he's risking getting all glossy-eyed all over again.

@misplacedreporter

Can someone be so tired they get honest? Is that possible? Having the thought and distantly wondering if he's going to have to swallow back a laugh probably proves the tired bit, anyway. Not being used to traveling with company for such a long period of time, he's usually only honest with himself when he's alone. Often out on a sand dune, gazing up at the stars, spent and exhausted and talking to himself.

He didn't mean for the words to be heard, but it's old habit and too late to take them back. It's also too late to play them off, divert, knowing Meryl's too sharp and determined to allow it. He can just get up and literally run away, he supposes--

"I'm not--" His half-annoyed protest is interrupted when his own analytical mind kicks into play. He's certain he has to be wrong, really, because it's just too easy, but at the same time...

More Prompts for Your Feels | accepting but the slowest

"No, you--" He was vaguely aware that he needed to try and keep his voice calm, not to make matters worse by showing his own panic...

A little too late for an impossible task anyway. "Listen. Listen to me, please. You have to go. You have to get out of here, get as far away as you can and hide. Get behind-- I don't know, something solid. I can't--"

Vash couldn't feel that particular feature with complete accuracy, but he was sure at that point that his eyes had to be glowing a good bit brighter than they usually were. More than he could play off as a trick of the suns or simply hide behind glasses. It wouldn't stop there, and that was all he knew for sure.

More Prompts for Your Feels | accepting but the slowest

The temptation to tack on a practiced smile and gently wiggle his way out of answering the question entirely is overwhelming. It's something he's tried not to think about for so long, failing at every turn, trying not to focus on desire but what's become a sense of duty--

Vash heaves the kind of quiet sigh that leaves him looking and feeling deflated. He can deflect questions when it's a group of them, or indirectly asked, but Meryl is every bit the "up and coming reporter" and he knows, he knows trying to squirm his way out from under the weight of the question will get her to double down. She'd stop if he asked, but he just can't bring himself to do that, either.

But he can't answer directly, not really, because-- "I wish I could just... go back. When it was just Nai and Rem and me. I want to do it over again, figure out what I missed. What I did wrong. Silly, I guess." Fake smile. Fake laugh. He knows, but it's so ingrained. "I want to make things right. For everyone. Humans and plants and even worms. I want to make sure certain things can never happen again."

What his mind chose to focus on first wasn’t even the words themselves, but the voice.  It wasn’t as though he was unaccustomed to the Dove’s voice, having heard quite a bit of that conversational tone.  Some irritation, some mirth, some curiosity; but always recognizable.  Harboring a… pleasant quality.  And yet so close, whispering, he felt something warm that had little to do with breath.

And then… the words.  Dichotomy.  There was something distinctly nerve-wracking about the words themselves, but not enough to dissuade his curiosity.  Sephiroth was interested in spite of himself; after all, whatever “gifts” he’d received had all been quite worth receiving.  In mixed ways, occasionally, though there was always an element of intrigue.  Curiosity both sated and encouraged anew.

There wasn’t a single possibility that he couldn’t have recognized the voice; and that reason alone was exactly why he’d gone so very still.  Eyes widened slightly behind the blindfold, breath slow and shallow.

Sephiroth wanted to deny it.  Funny how that was his first reaction; not to argue, but to vehemently deny, maybe even to pretend that he hadn’t heard at all.

His senses had been dulled since he’d–  Died.  Died, gotten himself torn from the Lifestream and returned.  And still it wasn’t a comfortable thought.  Wearing a blindfold, his sense of hearing and reflexes nowhere near as impressive as they once were, he knew Zack could strike.  Kill him, righteously, and there was little he could do.  He also knew that Zack could do far worse things than merely kill him.  Maybe he had with that whisper; it didn’t seem to be a merciful confession.

Swallowing thickly, it took another few seconds for him to find his voice.  To be confident that he could speak, let alone that the words themselves might sound steady.  “Safe to say… the feeling is mutual.”