"I never said I needed your help." came the simple retort from a particular warrior of Cosmos.
The war raging around them left little time for rest and planning. Which made it even harder for Squall to slip away from the 'monkey-boy'. The blond youth did well to hide the exhaustion from his companion. The heavy rise and fall of his chest was masked by his hands flinging his swords around before they finally disappeared. He shuffled through his blue cargo pants and beneath the layered belts in search of a potion or two. Finally, he discovered one and pulled it free. The small bright green vial fit in the palm of his gray glove clad hands.
He spun around on the heels of his white boots, the orange-crystal ground giving no resistance. With a large grin on his face he held it out in the brunet's direction. "You didn't have to, it was obvious."
Stormy blue eyes glared at the boy. Although with the wide smile his eyes were closed, allowing the brunet to let his eyes take him in for just a moment. They passed from his hand to the teal vest atop the white sleeveless shirt, with an additional white jabot, to the monkey-like tail that swayed behind him. He scuffed and dismissed his own weapon, walking past the blond. The jangle of chains and the trio of belts is all he intended to leave behind as an answer.
Not even acknowledging the scattered remnants of the manikins and they're battle, he kept his head bowed. His short brown locks slipped away from the place behind his ears and hung at the sides of his face. Black gloved hands swayed softly as he walked away while his scoffed boots pounded the ground.
The blond's brow furrowed as he opened his eyes, gripping the vial tightly. He simply wanted to scream. The other youth wasn't much different from himself. But there was one thing that separated them.
A smile.
He always tried to bury his feelings in order to protect others from his problems. Instead, he discovered he power of the smile and his own laughter – hiding everything else deep within. But in contrast, the brunet was the opposite. While he kept his problems to himself, he had no intention of masking it with kindness.
The monkey-boy ran after him, reaching out with free hand. He grasped at the back of the warrior's short black jacket with the fur-lined collar. The simple act of him doing so stopped the young man in his tracks. Tilting his head, he peered down at the shorter teen through the veil of hair. "What do you want Zidane?"
"You idiot, if you don't use a potion your wounds won't heal."
He simply ripped his gaze away from Zidane's and planned continue walking. But Zidane held tightly onto the back of his jacket.
"Squall!"
The young man spun around immediately, arm thrown out in an attempt to shove Zidane away. The flurry of the fur along the top of his pants and the sash partially covering his right leg was the only noise between them. The pendant around his neck slid back into place atop the white v-neck shirt as Squall came to a stop. Although he said nothing, his eyes were seething.
But Zidane refused to be pushed away. If Bartz could get through to their friend, whether Squall liked that fact or not, then so could he. Squall lifted a hand, pushing some of the hair back behind his ear and allowing Zidane the sight of the scar running between his eyes and over the bridge of his nose. Seeing it almost made Zidane wince – he knew that had to hurt, even if Squall didn't remember that part of his past.
Zidane took a deep breath and stepped forward, thrusting his open hand with the vial towards Squall. "I said take it. We might be ambushed again and I don't need the burden of saving you." The slight twitch of his left eye didn't scare the blond away for he was just as stubborn as the brunet before him.
Yet, he sighed and took the vial from Zidane's hand. In one swift motion the liquid was drank and the small container dropped back onto the blond's palm. "There."
Even so, Zidane couldn't help but laugh. The disgusted look on Squall's face was priceless. Those nasty potions and elixirs were hard to get down when not in the midst of needing one. And it was priceless to see the annoyed way Squall's brows drew together – being far more annoyed at that than at Bartz and him put together. Unable to resist, Zidane dropped the empty potion to the ground as Squall turned back around. He jumped up and wrapped his legs around Squall's waist. His arms draped over the brunet's shoulders and down onto his chest, fingers having begun fiddling with his necklace.
Beyond irritated, Squall attempted to shake the boy off but to no avail. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Well, you drank the last potion. Didn't even leave me any. So you have to carry me till the next Moogle."
"No."
"No choice."
Another sigh left Squall's lips – it was starting to become a habit.
"You're absurd."
"And you're predictable."
Squall remained silent after that. Those words threatened to bring back memories of his past and to be honest, he wasn't in need of them. Instead he moved his arms behind him, making a seat for Zidane out of his hands so that he wouldn't fall. It was much easier to allow the monkey-boy to nuzzle his face into Squall's neck, allowing that latter to fall into the ease of silent exchanges. Regardless, it was comfortable and he enjoyed Zidane's company – not that he'd admit it aloud to anyone. For he was afraid to voice them knowing that if they won the war against Chaos they'd be split up and sent home. And he'd never see Zidane again.
Yes... it was easier to simply enjoy what he had at the moment and not let the blond see the contented smile on his face.
….Or know that Squall would drop him the second someone appeared.
Oh dear god... I should never be allowed to write at 4 in the morning. I've never in my life thought of writing Zidane. I didn't even really play through his storyline in Dissidia or Final Fantasy 9. -A- And I'm supposed to be working on other things. But when you're cleaning a computer out and trying to fix it, a little bit of nonsense is nice.
Tis was a request over on deviantart. Hope ya like it~