Short ficcy written for 30 Kisses (www(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)30(underscore)kisses).
Disclaimer: Tales of Symphonia and its characters don't belong to me.
Warning: Slight shounen-ai, Kratos/Lloyd. Or rather, Lloyd/Kratos.
Note: Takes place right after the "What do mercenaries do?" skit near Asgard.
Smile
It came as a great shock when he saw Kratos smile. It was amazing, it was rare, it was… Oh, he was not about to say "beautiful" – or think it, rather. No way, no how. It was just something he had never before seen. That was why he was gaping; really, it was. He, Lloyd Irving, did not think their mercenary was beautiful. Annoying, yes. Arrogant, bossy, stoic – all of those. Strong, smart, amazing, perfe—
He caught himself. No, not down that particular train of thought!
They were mere companions, brought together by chance. They would separate once the journey ended. So Kratos taught him. So he protected him when the geyser erupted – and at other times, too, really. So they talked. He had to keep reminding himself that those things were only the things that friends did. Nothing less… but nothing more, either.
He had to keep telling himself, "So what?"
So what if he finally made the stony mercenary smile? So what if Kratos said he would think about that proposal?
Lloyd knew that, when an adult said, "I'll think about it", it was only a polite "no".
And he himself found out how often "I hate you" really meant "I love you", and how easily that one, the one you envy, turned into the one you admire. Too late? Perhaps, sometimes.
But oh, he smiled!
Lloyd closed his eyes, knowing that one image would be burnt into his mind forever.
Beautiful. Sure, why not?
As the mercenary passed, wisps of his hair lifted in the gentle breeze, brushing the teen's lips. Silk. Satin. Tendrils of living dream.
Lloyd smiled.