screaming bullet i'm speeding beside you
Jul. 6th, 2020 11:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seleniasTitle: screaming bullet i'm speeding beside you
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Characters/pairing: Sephiroth + Aerith
Rating: gen
Word Count: 250
Notes: AU. The evening of Aerith and Ifalna's departure, Sephiroth has a mundane conversation. Title from Tamaryn's Metal Beasts.
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The tile was too rounded at one end, and needed a gap on the other. Sephiroth liked to start with the outer edges; it made categorizing the insides easier. Piles were arranged by color. Supposedly the green in his hand was part of a cypress pine. He moved forward from there.
Aerith helpfully held out a green tile to him, fingers obscuring most of the design. He took it without touching her skin.
“Where is this?”
It didn’t fit. He set it carefully aside and looked at the image on the box. Overly saturated green. Bottom of the image. “Not here,” he answers.
“Oh.”
Another piece. Yellow and hazel. Brush, bracken, canopies. He places it in an open space on the table.
“You like these,” Aerith says. Her voice is disbelieving. She’s at the age where she’s above games. He’s just learning what they are.
“They pass the time.”
“Are you waiting for someone?”
“To be called. They’re running late.”
“Who is?”
“Employees.” He looks at her from under long lashes. She’s unremarkable excepting the jarring green of her eyes, more vibrant than the lacquered, muted pieces in his hand.
Sephiroth takes a guess. Hair in a thick braid. A too large jacket. Going somewhere. “And you’re waiting for...?”
He sits alone. On late nights he can hear the rumble of the last train, the thunder of wheels spiraling down to the metal underbelly.Would you have taken me with you if you knew me.
He thinks of other things.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Characters/pairing: Sephiroth + Aerith
Rating: gen
Word Count: 250
Notes: AU. The evening of Aerith and Ifalna's departure, Sephiroth has a mundane conversation. Title from Tamaryn's Metal Beasts.
-
The tile was too rounded at one end, and needed a gap on the other. Sephiroth liked to start with the outer edges; it made categorizing the insides easier. Piles were arranged by color. Supposedly the green in his hand was part of a cypress pine. He moved forward from there.
Aerith helpfully held out a green tile to him, fingers obscuring most of the design. He took it without touching her skin.
“Where is this?”
It didn’t fit. He set it carefully aside and looked at the image on the box. Overly saturated green. Bottom of the image. “Not here,” he answers.
“Oh.”
Another piece. Yellow and hazel. Brush, bracken, canopies. He places it in an open space on the table.
“You like these,” Aerith says. Her voice is disbelieving. She’s at the age where she’s above games. He’s just learning what they are.
“They pass the time.”
“Are you waiting for someone?”
“To be called. They’re running late.”
“Who is?”
“Employees.” He looks at her from under long lashes. She’s unremarkable excepting the jarring green of her eyes, more vibrant than the lacquered, muted pieces in his hand.
Sephiroth takes a guess. Hair in a thick braid. A too large jacket. Going somewhere. “And you’re waiting for...?”
He sits alone. On late nights he can hear the rumble of the last train, the thunder of wheels spiraling down to the metal underbelly.
He thinks of other things.
