Title: A Few Missed Calls
Rating: G/K
Pairing: Implied SeiferxSquall
Summary: Squall learns that he should start checking his answering machine a little more often than he does.
Notes: Faintly based off of the song "I Don't Know What I Can Save You From" by Kings of Convenience. I'm a little dissappointed with this one, because it feels rushed.
It wasn't unusual for him to have a message glaring up at him once he returned from training, regardless of how late it was.
Actually, it happened almost all the time, and he had grown quite used to the idea of sitting back down at his desk to hear the voice of his father or Quistis pouring over the phone, issuing some information on a current SeeD mission, in the case of Quistis, or just wanting to talk to him, as his father normally insisted upon doing.
So it was no surprise when he sat down to see that familiar little light on the machine winking up at him, glaring red in his otherwise monochrome room. A gentle sigh worked from ruby lips as he pressed the cold, plastic button, knowing all too well that whatever it was, it obviously couldn't wait until morning, and he braced himself for the news that would more than likely only ensure that he wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight.
As prepared as he thought he was, he definitely wasn't expecting it to be a thick male's voice, and gray blue eyes shot wide open, despite his fatigue. The painstakingly familiar, velvety rhythm leapt from the speaker to greet him and ensnare him before he could even make out the words that it was whispering.
" Hey."
There was a pause, and Squall found himself leaning just that little bit closer to the answering machine, staring at the thing as if it were going to break in a matter of seconds and cut off that voice from him for good. That voice...
"Shit. I wish I were good at these kinds of things… I've never really tried before… Been a while since we've last talked, huh? Five years…"
The voice trailed off, and the sound of shuffling feet against carpeting was heard in the background, as if the owner of the voice had taken to pacing about the room in nervousness at the aspect of speaking once again.
Squall would have sympathized with him were it not for the numbing buzz that was drilling into his mind at the current moment and scattering his thoughts like shards of a broken ice.
"Dammit. Shoulda figured that you wouldn't be around at this time of night (what the fuck am I thinking?) but I wanted to call anyway. 'Just wanted to talk or something, I don't know…"
There was a heavy sigh into the phone, and Squall could have sworn that he felt the tension in the room inch up just a little bit.
"Ah shit. I guess I've just… decided that traveling around is getting old, and I wanted to settle down again. 'Guess I kinda miss your stiff ass."
Another pause, and the air was heavier than Squall had remembered, and he suddenly really, really wanted to just turn off that stupid machine and pretend that nothing had ever happened, wanted to go back to pretending that there was nothing left out there.
"… A lot."
It took Squall a moment, just a brief time where everything seemed to come to a screeching halt, for him to register what exactly had been said and what the context of that simple phrase was. He blinked, dumbfounded, digging for some explanation and then blinked again when he was unable to find one; he leaned forward, almost as if trying to draw that answer from the inside of the machine, staring at it as if it were foreign and new and not something that he had become so accustomed to seeing.
"So I'm coming back."
The words ended with the click of the phone on the opposite end, the beep of his answering machine, and the flickering image of a time and date flashing over the screen that caused his breath to catch in his throat almost painfully.
"Ya know… You really should check your answering machine a little more often."
