What Lloyd asks of him, this suddenly and so desperately-- there's so much at risk here that it nearly paralyzes him in the spot, leaving him breathless and a little caged in his own brain. Zelos is a little ashamed of himself when Lloyd taking his hands and squeezing them is enough to still some of the raging flames in his heart and bring clarity once more, the gesture calming even though it's been ages since it last was so, and he very, very slowly finds himself relaxing his palms against Lloyd's.
Still, the lord's thoughts haven't stilled. There's a new, desperate voice at the back of Zelos' mind as Lloyd whispers his next argument, one that fights the terror that digs its heels in against the other's pull.
Because as much as his words are for himself, what Lloyd says--Zelos sees himself in them, too. Giving his life away to the crown was never what he wanted, and every day since he accepted this title, since the two of them started drifting apart, the world feels a little more worthless, life brimming with pointlessness. All the responsibility thrown on Zelos' shoulders when his mother died was always something he'd fought against, clashing with Mylene when she even suggested the idea that she'd be leaving it all to Zelos when she left. That day had seemed so far away, once. It was easy to deny something he didn't have to think about just yet, so he never gave it too much thought until the day came, with reality staring him in the face through a pair of lifeless eyes in the garden.
And it's funny, isn't it? For all Zelos bitches about Lloyd giving up the fight, right now he's the one offering an exit while Zelos is the one hiding behind excuses. Once upon a time he would've taken Lloyd's offer immediately and without question, wouldn't he? What happened to that version of him?
In his moment of weakness, that little voice grabs a hold of Zelos and doesn't let go.
'We have to go.'
He steps back and takes a deep breath, spares a look around the room. Zelos isn't stupid; he knows that he can't keep questioning Lloyd all night, or going over the risks, or trying to argue his way out of this until they settle on something that's a little more palatable or comfortable. Zelos will be fine, sure, but Lloyd is the one on borrowed time, here. He's already risked his life coming here after Kratos forbade it. It's literally do or die. There are no second chances.
So, guided by that voice, Zelos pushes Lord Wilder aside and makes a choice.
He twists on his heel, rushing over to his wardrobe, and starts rummaging through his belongings for good clothes to travel in. "There's a small bag of my personal money in the left drawer of my desk. Grab a hold of that; we'll need funds if we're gonna get anywhere," he says, his back turned to Lloyd and just trusting him to do so. Zelos is not thinking about this further than the extremely necessary right now, holding back the rest of his thoughts as he clings to logic and goes through the motions. Once satisfied, Zelos tosses the clothes to the bed and gets to searching for a bag, gritting his teeth. "I hope to god you have an escape route, Irving."
SOON
Still, the lord's thoughts haven't stilled. There's a new, desperate voice at the back of Zelos' mind as Lloyd whispers his next argument, one that fights the terror that digs its heels in against the other's pull.
Because as much as his words are for himself, what Lloyd says--Zelos sees himself in them, too. Giving his life away to the crown was never what he wanted, and every day since he accepted this title, since the two of them started drifting apart, the world feels a little more worthless, life brimming with pointlessness. All the responsibility thrown on Zelos' shoulders when his mother died was always something he'd fought against, clashing with Mylene when she even suggested the idea that she'd be leaving it all to Zelos when she left. That day had seemed so far away, once. It was easy to deny something he didn't have to think about just yet, so he never gave it too much thought until the day came, with reality staring him in the face through a pair of lifeless eyes in the garden.
And it's funny, isn't it? For all Zelos bitches about Lloyd giving up the fight, right now he's the one offering an exit while Zelos is the one hiding behind excuses. Once upon a time he would've taken Lloyd's offer immediately and without question, wouldn't he? What happened to that version of him?
In his moment of weakness, that little voice grabs a hold of Zelos and doesn't let go.
'We have to go.'
He steps back and takes a deep breath, spares a look around the room. Zelos isn't stupid; he knows that he can't keep questioning Lloyd all night, or going over the risks, or trying to argue his way out of this until they settle on something that's a little more palatable or comfortable. Zelos will be fine, sure, but Lloyd is the one on borrowed time, here. He's already risked his life coming here after Kratos forbade it. It's literally do or die. There are no second chances.
So, guided by that voice, Zelos pushes Lord Wilder aside and makes a choice.
He twists on his heel, rushing over to his wardrobe, and starts rummaging through his belongings for good clothes to travel in. "There's a small bag of my personal money in the left drawer of my desk. Grab a hold of that; we'll need funds if we're gonna get anywhere," he says, his back turned to Lloyd and just trusting him to do so. Zelos is not thinking about this further than the extremely necessary right now, holding back the rest of his thoughts as he clings to logic and goes through the motions. Once satisfied, Zelos tosses the clothes to the bed and gets to searching for a bag, gritting his teeth. "I hope to god you have an escape route, Irving."