Red Equals Passionate
[A glimpse becomes a look; they could not be more different but they still balance each other out. GenesisxRosso; drabble series]
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the FFVII franchise. Well, I do own Rosso's mom...
A/N: Edited "Voice". Here's hoping I won't have to do so again because it had me stumped. Anyway, while Genesis' voice is beautiful in both English and International versions of Crisis Core (when he's talking in general, really =D) LOVELESS does get annoying, eventually. Rosso seems to have mixed feelings about this. XD
Voice
She really wanted to hit him now.
"My friend, do you fly away now?
To a world that abhors you and I?
All that awaits you is a somber morrow
No matter where the winds may blow."
Rosso would never admit it but she loved Genesis' voice and the musicality that came with it. Listening to him speak would actually induce a strange calming effect on her nerves, her dissident and chaotic state of being reduced to peace and tranquility. For a few moments she could forget the nightmarish reality that was Deepground.
"My friend, your desire
Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess."
Yes, Rosso loved listening to that voice. Now…if Genesis would quote something other than LOVELESS, it would be perfect.
The Crimson Tsviet tried to tune out his voice, think of other things not LOVELESS related. Her attempts usually failed and she would continue listening, listening and thinking of buried pasts and moments that LOVELESS tended to dig up and reveal. During these moments, her thoughts would often go back to that promise she did not keep. It was a last request from that mother she barely remembered: "promise me you will read it."
She could recall very little of that woman, only that she was her near identical image. But where Rosso was strong, her mother had been more like Shelke the Transparent: Little stamina for fighting but compensating with her skills in SNDs.
It was the SNDs which led to the woman's eventual death.
There are times the Crimson Tsviet wonders if she had been an accomplice in helping along the woman's demise.
Rosso had yet to fulfill that promise; it was precisely because of her mother's memory that the red-clad woman did not touch it. For some reason it struck her as wrong to open and read a book that had been cherished by that person.
"Even if the morrow is barren of promises
Nothing shall forestall my return…"
Ah, how she wanted to hit him with his own book.