presidentheartbeat | The "Why Can't We Be Friends" roadtrip

Entry tags:

The "Why Can't We Be Friends" roadtrip

The beginning of spring has always brought with it a surge of life to the manor, with the flowing greenery and blooming of flowers in the gardens, the return of any staff members who needed relocating through the winter, the sudden influx of reports from every corner of the land stacked into neat papers for Zelos to organize and go through.

It's all so boring, though. Zelos leans way back on his seat, holding some random documents in his hands, lazily scanning the pages one by one. Blah blah this, blah blah that. Taxes, trade caravans, territory disputes, bandits, yadda yadda, same old bullshit, same old problems--and that's without counting any of the other requests from the peasantry accumulated since the last stack. He frowns, sighs. Bounces his leg. This is nothing new or too difficult, but definitely stuff that will take a huge chunk of the day just going through. So even with the sun at its peak and the day warmer than it's been in months, already that's a beautiful day gone to waste.

Good grief.

...And alas.

Zelos sets down the stack of papers and gets up from his seat, leaving his desk to look out the windows behind him instead. Greenery, blue skies, singing birds; already so much better than last week. Spring is here, and two things always follow the first rays of sunlight over the land. The first is more and more work as he grows older, more responsibilities stacking over on his shoulders as he continues to adjust to the title of "lord of the land". Zelos groans, stretches his arms over his head. Pops his shoulder. Keeping track of who wants what and where is always such a hassle.

He bites the inside of his cheek. Keeping track of anything is always such a hassle. Zelos never even wanted this in the first place, anyway, but things sure change quickly within barely a few years when everyone is in a panic after their previous lady dies.

Whatever.

Zelos reaches over and opens a window, sticking his head outside and looking at the main road, squinting. The breeze feels good. Staring out the window isn't productive, Zelos knows, but it's not like he can be assed to go back to the boring stack of papers on the desk any time soon when there's already something else in his mind. Because the second thing that happens, every time without fail when spring arrives, is the return of most of his younger knights from the academy next town over. And among them, there's always--

Hm, okay. Zelos bites his lower lip, then abruptly gets back inside and closes the window, rounding the desk to walk over to the door. The stack of papers remains discarded and unattended to on the desk. But Zelos is distracted, and there's no way he can get any work done like that, can he? He should do everything in his power to clear his mind. Maybe he could take a walk outside, then, subtly sticking to the front garden to keep an eye out for any carriages and marches. Just in case.

After all, it's spring. Lloyd could be returning any time now.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

For Zelos, the next few days are an exercise in self-bargaining.

He's not exactly ready to face the reality of what he's done just yet, but every day it's a little easier to think about the road ahead instead of the road behind. So alright, he's out here in the middle of nowhere after running away from home and responsibility with an ex-knight with a reputation that made his life misery, chasing a fleeting dream of his that he literally only told Zelos about seconds before their departure. This is still insane, and Zelos can't really tell how he's feeling about it, but the further they get from the Wilder manor, the easier it gets to swallow that pill down.

Making conversation with Lloyd is... awkward, after that rocky start. But underneath it, Zelos thinks he's justified in his discomfort: he and Lloyd could hardly even keep a conversation in letters lately, and Lloyd is completely different from the teenager Zelos leaned on when he needed it, and as a result of the chasm between them they've resorted to keeping secrets from one another. Understandable, if frustrating. It makes trying to read Lloyd and adapt to his conversation harder than it should be, because Zelos vehemently refuses to cling to a past that's honestly no longer theirs to claim.

For the most part Zelos keeps to his thoughts, admiring the views and checking the map whenever he can, trying to put himself back together after their horrible start. And he's been resorting to the mask to cope, too, treating Lloyd with the same casual brevity he would any guest at a ball, or whatever.

And Zelos can't say he's happy about that one. The guy broke him out of a life of boredom, for god's sake. The least Zelos could do would be nicer than treating him like any other pest. But how...?

Oh.

When Lloyd asks his question, Zelos is in the middle of beating himself up for being out here again, mind occupied by dark, swirling thoughts of how he's only dragging Lloyd down in his quest for freedom and peace. It startles him, then, and he takes a second to taste the question before answering. Well, what does he want to do in Iselia? What's the one thing he wants from the town? How's he going to spend his freedom?

Cold anxiety grips him tight when Zelos abruptly realizes that he doesn't know.

Because, what the hell is he supposed to do in Iselia? He's been too busy thinking of what he left behind, of what they need to do next, and as such he hasn't given their destination much thought. Zelos, caught red handed, nearly trips on his feet and stops walking. Instead he looks down to the ground as he continues on ahead, frowning and lost in thought.

"I..." it escapes his mouth. The frown deepens. He winds up releasing a sigh after holding the air in for a few seconds, shoulders slumping before he looks back up with a blank mask on, shrugging, dutifully following behind Lloyd. "I don't know. I guess I'll figure it out when I get there."

Edited (Important addition) 2019-10-04 04:19 (UTC)

Lloyd doesn't catch the way Zelos trips, doesn't catch the frown. He only turns around to glance back at Zelos after hearing his sigh, heart dropping at the way Zelos blankly looks ahead, shrugging with the same sort of disinterest that he used to when he was scolded for ignoring his duties as a child. Lloyd swallows, downcast, and faces forward again, any hopeful discussion dying out on his tongue as he nods. "Yeah," he says, lowering his gaze down to the ground in front of him. "Yeah, I guess that checks out. I'm sure there will be a lot to do there."

The truth is, Lloyd had been hoping Zelos would respond. The truth is, Lloyd had been hoping for something to grab onto, a rock edge to grab in the mess of climbing this towering mountain of trying to fix what's been broken, just like he had been for the better part of almost two weeks now. He had been hoping for a conversation, for talks of dreams and possibilities and something they could both work at achieving. But as it stands, Lloyd's not sure he has the right to ask for Zelos to be anymore attentive or open than he is. It's obvious to Lloyd at this point that Zelos is upset, that the blank faces and masks are just him trying to hide how badly he doesn't want to be here. Lloyd should have never asked him to come, should have never taken him away from the life he lived like he did.

Maybe he should just turn around and take Zelos back.

The silence returns, heavier this time, and Lloyd lets it wash over them. He can't find it in himself to try and break it again, can't find it in himself to risk being brushed off again at this moment. He doesn't know what he could say or do to make this any better, to try and apologize for making Zelos more miserable than he already was. Maybe Lloyd had clung onto the idea of running away, but he shouldn't have chained Zelos to yet another expectation. No wonder Zelos talks to him like he used to talk to people he disliked. Lloyd's eyes water, irritatingly, so he shuts them tight and forces it back. He's not going to cry, not here, not now, not about this. He shouldn't be a baby because things aren't going his way.

"We're coming up on a town," Lloyd says after around half an hour of silence, not bothering to look up from the map. "It'll get dark soon; we should rent a room at an inn."

The tension and silence in the air chokes at Zelos along with his doubts and anxieties, the question of 'what are you gonna do once we get to Iselia?' repeating ad infinitum in his head. What can he do? The only thing he knows how to be so far is a lord. Maybe he could settle into politics, but-- yeah, right. Get out of politics to settle into politics, putting yourself out there in the map for anyone to come claim, and then Lloyd will pay the price for that. But what else is there? What does he do with himself anymore?

Grey clouds gather in the sky as they walk onwards, the temperatures dropping with the coming of rain. It'd be best if they weren't caught out here when it starts raining. So, resting at a town sounds like heaven right now, actually, and Zelos says so. In total silence, he follows behind Lloyd as they enter town, careful and alert, and keeps himself out of any prying eyes by pulling the hood of the cloak up over his head. Haircut or not, he wouldn't wanna risk it now, right?

With travel held at a standstill as it is, Lloyd manages to get them a room faster than it would've been otherwise. He pulls the hood off when they enter and gets to examining the room after setting down their things. Conserving money while passing through towns has been the top priority, so Zelos isn't surprised when their room only has one bed. Uncomfortable, perhaps, but not surprised. It's fine--he can scoot up to the edge if it need be.

Thunder roars outside, the rain finally breaking through and dropping in from above. Zelos walks over to the window to assess the damages, but something in the way catches his eye; a small mirror, dusty and aged, reflecting his ruby red hair in the low light. Short, ruby red hair, that is, looking choppy and uneven and hardly professional, but passable. It really only looks off if you actually focus on it, it seems. For his inexperience Lloyd sure did a pretty good job.

Zelos raises a hand to play with the tips of his bangs, admiring Lloyd's work, and snorts. "Hey, not bad," he says without turning around, but seeking Lloyd's figure in the reflection of the mirror, then tugging at his own bangs when Lloyd looks his way. "The haircut. It's good."

Edited 2019-10-04 22:12 (UTC)

As soon as they enter the room, Lloyd busies himself with dropping his pack and searching through it, taking note of anything that needs to be restocked while in town. He should see about getting more twine, and it couldn't hurt to get any food preserved with traveling in mind. Grabbing onto the handle of his dagger, he unsheathes it and takes a glance at the edge - couldn't hurt to sharpen it again. He's had more use out of it than he has his swords as of late, anyways -

Zelos' voice cuts into his thoughts, and Lloyd blinks, looking over at him. With a small grin, Lloyd sheathes the dagger again and places it back in his pack, making eye contact with Zelos through the mirror. "I told you I'd be careful," he says, huffing a laugh. "Glad you don't mind it, though. Maybe I'll take up being a hairstylist when we get to Iselia."

Inventory taken and jokes cracked, Lloyd sits on the edge of the bed and falls back with a sigh, enjoying the fact that he's on an actual bed for the first time in a while, empowered by the fact that Zelos spoke up first for once, even if it was only a little. The rain continues on, strengthening as the storm intensifies, but within the small room of this cozy inn it feels more like comfort than anything else. Still, it was definitely a good idea to rent a room for the night.

"Can you believe we're traveling like this?" Lloyd asks aloud, staring up at the ceiling, a nostalgic smile gracing his lips. "We talked about it as kids, but it's real now. It's crazy."

The storm outside makes it a little difficult for Zelos to hear Lloyd that well, so he finally removes himself from the mirror to close the window before the winds drag the water into their room. He lets himself laugh a little when Lloyd mentions being a hairstylist, though, because--Lloyd, patient enough to do that for a living? Zelos doesn't think so.

He turns around and sees Lloyd already claiming the bed, looking up at the ceiling from where he lays. At least someone here is relaxed, Zelos bitterly thinks as he slumps right back into anxious self-doubt. Lloyd's comments are nostalgic, sure, but they keep trying to reach for something that Zelos thinks is better off buried and left behind. They can't do anything about the past anymore, so why bother clinging to it? Zelos has enough on his plate to deal with right now as it is.

Zelos takes a deep breath, then turns around and stares out the window, out at the raging storm that darkens the skies as if it were already night. He takes in Lloyd's words and analyzes them well, trying to pick out a way to go about this at all before his discomfort eats him alive from the inside.

Arms crossed, Zelos finally exhales. "Makes you think, doesn't it," he states, not really a question, merely a thought voiced aloud. "This is real."

Brows furrowing at Zelos' tone, worry lacing into the ease Lloyd had lowered himself down into, he tries to pick apart Zelos' words, his sigh. He doesn't seem mad or even specifically upset, but the way he just says his piece brings Lloyd back to their earlier conversation on their walk. It feels blank, a musing that isn't deep on the surface but probably hides something in its depths, and Lloyd can't help but hate that he's incapable of reading through it.

"It's real," he agrees, voice softening as he lifts himself up, placing his hands behind him to support himself. Lloyd wants to say more, offer Zelos some sort of comfort, but Zelos isn't even looking at him. Does he hate being here that much? Or is it possible that Zelos has something he hasn't felt like he could say stuck in his throat? Guilt itches up Lloyd's spine, settling an unfair amount of pressure on his shoulders. All this time spent thinking about him, and he hasn't once thought to ask Zelos about how he felt.

So he fixes that. "Is there... Is there something bothering you, Zelos?"

God, Lloyd, don't put him on the spot like that. Zelos scowls at his reflection in the window, the storm behind the glass freezing him the longer he stands here, but still he will not move. Well, shit. Lloyd's already picked up on something being wrong, but chances are he hasn't really dug into what it is. How could he, anyway? Zelos hasn't said anything. He's been as cooperative as a prisoner who refuses to speak when asked.

Maybe... maybe it's about time he fixes that, then.

"Some of the first few things they tell you to watch out for when you take up lordship," Zelos begins, still looking out the window, "is how the rest of your resources and people are doing at all times. You're supposed to watch out for everything that could go wrong, what is wrong, and how your actions will affect it. Leadership and resource management become second nature for you; and when learning exercises become several lives in your hands, it becomes a responsibility."

This is stupid, but he kind of hopes what he's trying to say will come across without really saying it out loud. What the hell is he supposed to say? Where does he start? How does one even bring up 'I feel like I left all these lands to die, like my purpose in life has been thrown away, and I have no idea what to do with myself now that the one thing I learned to be isn't what I have to be now' anyway?

Honesty was never really his forte, was it?

Another sigh, this one softer than the last. "I suppose old habits die hard," is the half-truth that Zelos says instead of anything else.

Lloyd's expression morphs into one of understanding and culpability as Zelos opens up, not exactly explaining what it is that's been bothering him, but leaving Lloyd an obvious enough bread-trail to find his way to the center of it himself. And... Yeah, Lloyd can find himself empathizing with Zelos on the things he's left behind. Lloyd was a knight, not even one with land to own or power to wield. When he left, he left behind nothing but expectations, a reputation that had ruined his young life, and a father who no longer pretended to care for him. But Zelos...

Zelos left behind a lot. People who depended on him, land that needed to be led by him, responsibilities that he was trained his entire life to pick up. Lloyd knew, when he had asked the lord to join him on his escape, that Zelos would be leaving it all behind. But right here, right now, Lloyd can see just how badly the guilt is eating at him, and that causes Lloyd's own guilt to bite at his determination to see this through with Zelos. Maybe he doesn't mind Lloyd as much as Lloyd feared, but it looks like he regrets ever saying yes to this, and the last thing Lloyd wants is for him to suffer because of it.

Licking at dry lips, the ex-knight tries to figure out what to say in the quiet, the rain acting as a steady beat to keep it from being oppressive. There's really nothing he could say to make what Zelos has left behind any easier to shoulder: "they'll be fine," is shallow and vague, and Lloyd knows that without any real successor to the lordship, there's a decent chance they won't be, which pangs at his own heart - (knights are supposed to protect the people with their lives. What kind of person is he that he would throw away that obligation for freedom, instead, innocent lives be damned) - and "you shouldn't have to bear the weight of the world alone" is something Zelos has never responded to well before. Lloyd has no clue as to where to go from here.

But he supposes he could offer Zelos the choice to go back home.

"Would... Would you like to go back to the manor?" Lloyd asks, keeping his voice soft, gentle. It hurts him to think about, as far as they've come, but if Zelos wants to go home, fix what's been hurt by Lloyd's selfish actions, then he won't stop him. He can't go back to the manor with him, knowing he'll be executed as soon as he's caught by any guards, but maybe he can take him back as close to the manor as he can, lead him to a city that's bound to have guards around. "If you say that you killed me and ran, I'm sure they'll take you back without question."

While the silence stretches on again, this time, it's at least less oppressive than the rest they've subjected themselves to. It's pensive, purposeful. Zelos is still anxious, tapping a rhythm against his forearm as he waits for Lloyd and fights back the shame of having said anything at all. What the hell is he doing, really. Lloyd has more important matters to take care of than babysitting some ex-lord with doubts in his mind--

'If you say that you killed me and ran, I'm sure they'll take you back without question.'

Zelos freezes at that, the rhythm coming to a stop, fingers gripping tightly at the cloth of his shirt's sleeve instead. There's-- Lloyd just--

What the fuck?

A sickening, hot fury begins to boil at the pit of Zelos' gut, something that leaves him breathing harshly as he combats the rising smoke. What does he even begin to unpack here? The fact that Lloyd's willing to give up just like that, after all they've traveled? That out of everything Zelos just said, he chooses to ignore it all, and abandon him? That he missed the point? That he's willing to put Zelos back in the cage he just pulled him out of? Is he fucking serious?

Thoughts swirling in a messy, destructive force like the storm outside, Zelos finally turns to look at Lloyd, glaring daggers and growling under his breath, "Are you fucking kidding me right now, Lloyd?"

Visibly flinching as Zelos whirls around to face him, Lloyd blinks against the current of anger that so obviously controls him. What happened to get Zelos this furious in the span of a few seconds, when Lloyd was so sure that simply asking him for what he wanted was the right way to go about things? Zelos' tone is biting and sharp, and the way he addresses Lloyd almost reminds him of his former drill sergeants - loud, sudden, expectant, and vicious.

Swallowing hard, Lloyd focuses first on keeping calm. He must have said something to piss Zelos off, something to earn the brunt of all of this ire, but the problem is he can't think of what it was. He pushes himself off the bed, faces Zelos best he can though his mind shouts at him that he needs to make himself small, keep quiet, apologize and let Zelos say what he says fit to. "I - Zelos, I don't understand why you're mad at me," he starts, forcing his voice to stay low and even, "I just want to make sure you know you're not stuck with me, that you - that you're happy, y'know?"

"How can I be fucking happy when you ask that!" Zelos shouts as he loses control, hands balled into fists by his sides as he takes a step forward into Lloyd's space. "You pull me out of the manor, of lordship, and then you have the guts to give up like that?! You're really gonna drag me all the way back and leave me so you can serve yourself?! Fucking wow, Lloyd! I didn't think you'd be one to give up like that!"

Zelos takes a few harsh breaths, his fury spreading and taking over his whole body, making him shake. He's being irrational, he's not thinking clearly, he's not even listening, but by this point, it's not like he can even control that, either. It's all days of silent self-loathing and doubt, of anxious fear, all bubbling at the surface and exploding after a single thing left him with more fears and doubts than he ever could've wanted.

And that's the problem with Zelos, he knows. Terror becomes anger, anger becomes a knife. The knife sharpens his words and actions, drives him to defend himself like a cornered animal, even from threats that aren't even there. "But I guess that just means you finally saw the light, huh?!" Zelos adds, stepping forward again. "Fuck Lord Wilder, right! Better to ditch him and run for the prize, right?!"

"That's not it, Zelos!" Lloyd cries out, hurt at Zelos' assumption that he would ever ditch him like that, at being called selfish even though everything he's done during this whole trip has been done with Zelos in mind. "You know that's not it! I just want you to be happy, and you seem so - so fucking miserable here," Lloyd lowers his voice again, clinging desperately to his composure, trying to avoid the trap of yelling back. "I'm not gonna take you back if you don't want to go back, but I'm not a goddamn mind reader! What do you want from me?"

Stepping back as Zelos moves into his space, Lloyd tries not to let his anxiety get the best of him as he begins to shake a little, swallowing hard and crossing his arms. He forces himself to keep eye contact with Zelos, at least, trying to keep his expression open and controlled, but ultimately failing in the grand scheme of being panicked and upset. This feels wrong, arguing with Zelos like this, like he used to argue with his father, all sharp words and assumptions. "I've tried to talk to you and understand what I can help with, but I can't go off of nothing. And do you really think so lowly of me that you think I'd just ditch you? Why would I bring you with me from the start if all I cared about was some fucking prize? Honestly, Zelos, it's like you fucking hate me!"

Okay, Lloyd's words are-- they're true, actually. They ring right, and with that, Zelos becomes even more distressed. Cold self-loathing trickles down his spine like raindrops on the window's glass, pulling his heart down. He's started something here that he's not sure how to end, and both his pride and terror are the only things that push him onwards into the fight.

"I don't know, Lloyd! I don't know a goddamn thing!" he shouts again, raising his arms into the air. He tries to ignore how badly the last of Lloyd's words hurt, because-- god, no no no, Lloyd, he doesn't hate you, he could never, he just-- "What you've been doing is treating all of this as some kind of fucking roadtrip instead of focusing on the task at hand! And then you think I'm going to agree to telling everyone that I killed you?! Holy shit, Lloyd, what kind of solution to anything is that!"

Lloyd pauses, brings his hand up, and pinches at the bridge of his nose with a harsh sigh. "It's the only solution, should you want to go home, Zelos," he says, hiding his agitation behind his hand. "If I'm found with you, I'll be ordered to be executed. But if you say you killed me, they won't think twice about it. They're assuming I kidnapped you, after all."

Lowering his hand again, Lloyd closes his eyes slowly and exhales, trying to calm himself down from being a bundle of nerves. This is the worst, an argument he never thought they'd be having. "My entire life I was forgotten or shunned. Should you declare me dead, nobody would think twice or miss me. I'd get the blame for your disappearance, and your position would be reinstated. But," Lloyd tacks on, opening his eyes again to glance back at Zelos. "That's only if you want to return to the manor at all."

Lloyd is telling the truth. He's being rational, and logical, and Zelos knows that, should he want to go back, then this plan is sound. Lloyd cannot go back now that he's abandoned his life, lest he wishes to face certain death. It is the only way.

But... Zelos still doesn't want to go back. Good god, what happened? This has gone completely out of control, and the sound of his own blood rushing into his ears is enough for Zelos to feel like he's already drowning in regrets. He doesn't want any of this, doesn't want Lloyd assuming things that he doesn't know anything about, doesn't want to be forced into choices that aren't really choices and instead only appear to be so, doesn't like disturbing things bubbling under the surface that should best be left alone. And it's Lloyd even suggesting to take Zelos all the way back that pisses him off, but there's something else there, one more thing that's like a needle digging into his skin.

Because leaving him behind like that might as well count as leaving him for dead. And what the fuck is Lloyd saying, that nobody would miss him if he died? Is he fucking serious? What about when Zelos gets caught up in the lie, mourning for someone who is very much alive, but now completely out of his reach?

The fact that Lloyd would even allow himself to think like that leaves a disgusting taste in Zelos' mouth.

"Don't say that," he snaps, voice clear and loud and booming in the room as if it were thunder itself, backed by the rain and the sudden silence he's cut in half. Zelos feels his hands curling into fists at his sides, a growl in his throat, a glare in his eyes as he once again loses himself in a misplaced rage he cannot control or redirect. "Don't say that! What is wrong with you?! Don't you ever say that!"

They’re going in circles, Lloyd realizes. Everything about this sucks, from the way that they’re both just arguing for the sake of proving a single point that doesn’t matter, to the way that every movement from Zelos is furious and pointed. This - this isn’t what Lloyd wanted, not at all, and every part of him screams against this, whether it be the the knight whose loyalty lies with his lord or the lonely boy who hates fighting with the only person he could hope to consider a friend. He swallows hard, trying desperately to find a way to end this argument before it could go any further, but drawing nothing that could work well in the end. Lloyd just doesn’t know what to do, what he could say or ask to help.

Zelos snaps again, though, and instinctively, something in Lloyd’s demeanor changes. The ex-lord’s shouts sound like orders, the way they rush out of his mouth in a sharp and demanding way, forcing cooperation from Lloyd in a way that he’d been trained to allow in the academy. Tense and stressed as he is, Lloyd lets it happen, lets his face become blank and unreadable, straightens his posture and faces Zelos with not an ounce of negative, without an ounce of anything.

Not unlike the way he had faced his instructors, Lloyd lets the familiar distance of his training wrap around him as to not betray any turmoil. Maybe this is for the best, actually. Maybe like this, the argument will end, since everything he says keeps making things worse. Maybe they were right in saying that a knight should just keep their thoughts and opinions to themselves in order to keep the peace.

Maybe this is all his fault. Maybe this will fix it.

Of all the things that Zelos had expected to happen, this isn't it. Lloyd's demeanour completely changes in only a second--posture straight, face blank, heart miles away--and it's enough for Zelos to suddenly stop, eyes widening at the sight. This is nothing like what Zelos has ever seen of him before. It's nothing like what Lloyd has ever shown him. This, it's impersonal, it's distant, it's-- it's--

It's the beginning of the end, a panicked part of Zelos' mind screams against the rain.

Just like that, with that single statement, it's like his mind blooms like a parasitic flower spreading disease. Why did he ever have to open his big, stupid mouth? Why did he have to keep digging somewhere that would only lead to their doom? Why? Why did he have to cling onto his anger? Why scream at Lloyd? Why didn't he do anything differently? Why did he scream? Why? Why? Why?

This blank look that Lloyd has never worn before, directed at Zelos--it just means that Lloyd has to hate him. He has always hated Zelos. It's the only explanation. Why is he even here? Maybe the only reason Lloyd even considered him was he was just nostalgic for something that's already dead and buried, and he didn't know better. Maybe that's why he didn't even make an effort to contact the lord before, only kept here through some misguided loyalty the knight is already letting go of, some idealism that was far away from reality itself. A reality brought by Zelos' hand. Because really, why would Lloyd ever want to keep going on this journey with someone who only knows how to be uncooperative and generally unpleasant to be around? Why would anyone?

Lloyd is disgusted with him. That must be it. If he knows what's good for him then he's going to leave the redhead behind.

And that will only be Zelos' fault.

No, not Lloyd. No. No, no, no, no no no he can't go, he can't leave Zelos now, not here, please don't go--

Zelos doesn't think; looking like a terrified animal, he springs to the exit and crashes against the door in his desperate attempt to bolt it out of the room, rushing out into the inn, then out into the rain. It's cold, but he doesn't care. It's dark, but that doesn't matter. What grabs a hold of him is a desperate need to not look at that blank face anymore, a terror so profound that urges him to stop this from happening as soon as possible.

Because, in his mind, it's not like Lloyd can leave him behind if he's not even here to be left behind, right?

Lloyd should pat himself on the back. Somehow, within this argument, he’s developed quite a talent for making things that are already bad even worse.

The training drops as soon as Zelos turns on his heel, running out of the room, and there’s only one moment of surprise before Lloyd is chasing after him. “Zelos, wait!“ he cries out, reaching out by the doorway only to watch as Zelos continues to run out of his sight. Part of him shouts to follow after the ex-lord, to not leave him alone in his mind like this, as volatile as it seems, but the other part - the more rational part of i him - argues that maybe Zelos needs some space. Maybe Lloyd could benefit from some space, just enough time to compose himself and think of how to actually fix this problem he’s caused.

But it’s storming so bad outside, he can’t help but think, glancing concernedly out their bedroom window. And it’s dark, and Zelos is already being searched for. This is dangerous, just leaving him out there on his own. Should he disregard any need for space to go find him...?

With a harsh, agitated exhale, Lloyd closes the room door and sits back on the edge of the bed, hanging his head and shoving his fingers into his fringe. Ten minutes - maybe fifteen - and then he’ll go looking for Zelos. Until then, he’ll think about the trip, about the argument, what he could have done better.

What Lloyd needs to do better, what he needs to say to fix this and show Zelos he cares for his best interest. To show Zelos that he cares about him.

Running around aimlessly on the opposite direction from where they arrived from, the pounding of his heart is all that Zelos can hear, the cold sensation of the rain already numb as he becomes soaked from head to toe. This is the stupidest thing he's ever done, yet Zelos doesn't stop; he just keeps running, running, running, running until he hits the edge of the town where civilization meets wilderness again.

It's dark, but even from here Zelos can still see that there's a forest in the distance, some blob of darkness further away after the small plain at his feet. He breathes harshly and shallowly, frozen in place. Blinks, croaks something out, steps back. Starts trembling, eyes glued to the murky foliage through the thick rain.

'Just what do you think you're trying to achieve?'

The pouring rain envelops him whole, harsh like white noise, drowning out the rest of the world in a numb emptiness as he stares. He steps back again, looks to his left, over his shoulder. Why did he even run? What the hell was the purpose of coming all the way here? For all he's scared of Lloyd abandoning him, he sure just did exactly that to the ex-knight. Stupid... Stupid, so stupid. He should go back and apologize before he makes everything worse.

This wasn't worth it.

He steps back again, then twits on his heel and takes about six steps back to their inn before he abruptly stops. No, wait--he can't go back. Lloyd hates him, doesn't he? Why would he accept an apology from someone he despises? In that case, running away was the right choice. Yes. Growling under his breath, Zelos twists on his heel again, takes three steps towards the forest, and as lightning hits in the distance once again he suddenly stops. Maybe running away was the right choice, he thinks, but is he really sure they can't fix this? Lloyd did bring him along. There has to be something still alive between them, right?

But he can't go back, can he? No, he made his choice. This is what he deserves. Although... Is Lloyd worried? No, why would he be? He shouldn't be. Zelos is a wanted man. That's another thing, isn't it? Maybe what he's doing right now is jeopardizing Lloyd's freedom again by being a free target out here in the rain. Someone is bound to spot him, right? And then what?

Paralyzed by his own thoughts, Zelos whines and paces back and forth, hands finding his hair and pulling, sliding down his face. He should go back. He needs to go back. But... does he deserve that? After everything he just did and said, does he deserve to even apologize?

'I don't know.'

As it turns out, even waiting just ten minutes to chase after Zelos feels like a small eternity for Lloyd. His thoughts race through his mind, incomplete and messy, fragments of apologies and explanations trying to piece themselves together with all of the success of puzzle pieces from two separate puzzles. He moves from sitting on the edge of the bed to pacing about the room, listening for any knocks or anything at the door, just in case Zelos has decided to come back before Lloyd could go out and look for him, but no such thing happens.

By the time Lloyd has decided that he’s waited long enough, his mind is screaming at him to go find Zelos, thunder rumbling and lightning striking loud outside of the room. He finds himself jogging out of the room, only thinking to lock the door behind him and pocket the key as an afterthought, the rest of his think-track preoccupied with trying to figure out where to look for Zelos first, fighting off anxious concern as he exits the inn and heads out into the storm.

It’s cold, is the first thing Lloyd notices, the rain stinging harsh against his skin, and immediately he picks up the pace, stretching his strides into a run. He remembers fully well that Zelos had never been one to do well with the cold, even less after that fateful winter of Mylene’s death, and he doesn’t doubt that Zelos is probably freezing being out here like this. Lloyd checks around the perimeter of the inn, hoping that maybe Zelos would have stayed close, but - no.

From there, it’s a matter of where Zelos could have gone. At this time of night, Lloyd doubts he could have run to a shop or anything, and if there is anything Zelos has made clear tonight, it’s that he doesn’t want to head back in the direction of the manor, so Lloyd takes a shot in the dark and continues down the town’s main street, passing homes and stores and running towards the exit of the town, keeping an eye out for the developing foliage and how the homes seem to spread out in distance, going from residential to rural and into wilderness.

Lloyd’s out of breath by the time he hits the edge of the town, heart pounding faster with every minute he doesn’t find Zelos. Zelos wouldn’t have just... run, right? He doesn’t have a pack or his weapon with him, and even if he could find a guard soon, traveling in this weather, at this time of night... No. No, Lloyd forces himself to stop thinking about it, instead running faster. Zelos will be fine. Don’t be paranoid.

And soon enough, his efforts are rewarded. At the welcoming sign to the town, right where the merchant roads meet the town streets, Lloyd catches a pacing figure. It’s dark enough where Lloyd can’t catch too many of his features, but he can recognize Zelos anywhere, relief flooding his heart and forcing his anxiety to relinquish it’s hold on him for just a moment.

“Zelos!” He shouts, making his way over to the man with concern etched into his knitted brows. “Zelos, there you are, I was worried -“

As he gets closer to the ex-lord, Lloyd can feel his heart start to break, the vulnerability present within Zelos’ pacing, in his shivering and in the way he holds himself shining through and showing itself clear as day. He did this to him, Lloyd did this to him, and it’s with that last thought that Lloyd crosses the final bit of distance between him and Zelos, guilt surging hot through his body, eating away at the relief and leaving instead sick regret. Not thinking before he stops right in front of him, Lloyd brings his hands up to cup Zelos’ face gently, pushing his wet bangs out of his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Zelos, really. I didn’t - I didn’t want this to happen, I didn’t want to argue with you like that, and I didn’t want you to think I want to send you back, that’s not it at all. I just - I just didn’t want to fight anymore. That’s it.”

And, before he can chicken out of saying it, he takes a deep breath, repeating what he had said the night they ran away together. “You matter to me. I just want you to be happy.”

It's cold. It's so cold; the rain has started stabbing down with its icy force at some point during the day, and Zelos holds himself tightly, uselessly trying to regain some warmth as he paces. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This is all so stupid. What the hell, why is he--

Someone calls his name.

He freezes instinctively for a second before recognizing the voice filtering in through the pouring rain, and even when that forces him to look at the source, he still doesn't move from his spot. He can only watch as Lloyd runs up to him, his mind trying to reconcile the fact that Lloyd is here, looking at him like he's going to be sick, cupping his face in gentle, warm hands. That sparks a question; how long has Zelos been out here for? Lloyd's hands are so warm. He wants to reach up and cover his hands with his own, but stops himself before he can even fully contemplate the action. Instead, the ex-lord uselessly leans into the face touch, now shivering at the temperature change as Lloyd goes off about something or another.

There's a bubbling relief in his chest as Lloyd speaks, though. Relief, covered by something else--something sick and sad, a deep guilt glaring at what he's done, pulling his heart down to his stomach. He didn't want to send Zelos back. That's what Lloyd says. Ashamed of himself, Zelos tears his gaze off to the side, away from Lloyd's face, though still allowing the other to hold him in place as he is. All of this... it's all his fault, isn't it? The fight wouldn't have escalated this badly if he'd just backed down. The fight wouldn't even have happened if he'd just backed down and thought rationally. But he just had to go ahead and act on pure instinct instead, let his terrified anger get the best of him, and now here Lloyd is, soaked, away from the warmth of their inn room, apologizing for Zelos' own mistakes.

No, don't do that, Lloyd. Don't do that to yourself.

Please.

Apologize to him, comes a voice at the back of Zelos' mind. Apologize, apologize, apologize. But he can't--pride clamps his mouth shut, forces him to look at Lloyd in the eye again, mask weak and broken as vulnerability spills from his gaze, running down his cheeks together with the rainwater. Silence ticks, spreads. Builds. Threatens. It's frustrating. In the urgency of his inner conflict, Zelos' hands find their way to Lloyd's wrists, holding them as if to keep him here, here, here where Zelos can still see him. Please don't get frustrated and leave, Zelos thinks. He's working on it. He has to say something, he just can't decide what or how.

The apology is too thick on his tongue to come out. Desperate now, Zelos swallows hard and picks something else instead.

"Aren't... aren't you cold...?"

"I'm okay," Lloyd answers without a moment of hesitation, gently running a thumb against the curve of Zelos' cheek. Poor thing is freezing. "It's only rain and I'm not made of paper. I just feel better knowing that you're alright, honestly."

Part of Lloyd realizes that he's been holding Zelos so tenderly for way longer than is necessary or even appropriate given everything that has just happened, and even though his training tells him to let go and step back, create some sort of distance and clear out the vulnerability in the touches, he stops himself, glancing down at Zelos' hands locked tightly around his wrists. Maybe Zelos needs this more than he needs space. Maybe Lloyd should admit how badly he needs this.

So instead of stepping back, Lloyd pulls his hands down from Zelos' face and instead wraps his arms around the ex-lord, pulling him into a close hug. "I just want you to be alright," he mumbles, not sure if he'll be heard over the rain, but wanting it out there anyways. "It's the least I could do for you."

Edited 2019-10-15 03:13 (UTC)

Oh, the hug is... Warm. Warm, and wonderful, and familiar, and for a second Zelos closes his eyes as the nostalgic sensation hits him full-force. As such he's not really thinking when his hands reach up to cling to the back of Lloyd's cloak, barely tugging and barely even reaching up for it to be called a hug returned, but still gripping tightly, holding on even as his body trembles in the rain.

He remains quiet otherwise, until there's a hum. Zelos can barely make out the fact that Lloyd is speaking, but what he's saying is mumbled so low that it gets lost in the rain, away from Zelos' grasp. Regardless, though, the vibrations of his voice travel nicely from one torso to another, and in their wake Zelos shivers, clings tighter. They are comforting, in a way. Just the fact that Lloyd is willing to talk so gently and hold him like this is already more than what he deserves, he thinks.

How long is that going to last for?

Rain, everywhere around them, drowning out the world and lowering visibility until it's just the two of them in its watery cage. There's a silence stretching under each drop, fragile. It's making Zelos anxious. He should say something, anything, or--they should move, actually. Being under the rain like this is a terrible idea, and now he's just tired. Cold, tired, and--

He tenses, inhales, abruptly pushes Lloyd away, and sneezes.

Oh.

"Fuck," he whines, rubbing at his nose. Now with Lloyd's warmth gone, he just feels so cold, and his shivering worsens in the pouring rain and cold winds.

Lloyd's eyes widen as Zelos sneezes, immediate realization and concern flashing into his mind and temporarily overpowering any other intense emotion he could feel. It's raining, it's cold, and Zelos has been out in this storm for too long - he needs to be brought back to the inn, where it's warm, and regain his body heat before a cold takes him first.

"C'mon, let's go back," Lloyd says, gently taking hold of Zelos' hand and tugging him forward. "You'll catch your death out here if you stay out any longer."

The walk back to the inn is silent, mostly, made more pronounced by the sound of the storm. thunder rumbling in the distance, but otherwise interrupted by sneezing and sniffling on Zelos' end. Lloyd bites at his lip as he leads them back, eventually just pulling Zelos close to him, trying to share whatever warmth he has left until they can get back inside.

Once they do, Lloyd opens their room's door and rushes Zelos inside, grabbing the ex-lord's pack for him and then bringing it over to him. "Get some dry clothes and wait in the bathroom, I'll ask the innkeep for towels and more blankets," he instructs with a comforting smile, turning around and leaving the room again to search for their host.

Thankfully, finding the innkeep and getting what he needs doesn't take very long, and the heat of the inn helps Lloyd ignore the fact that he's still in his wet clothes, but he can feel cold discomfort creep in on him, so he increases his pace, returning to their room and closing the door behind him. The bathroom door is open a crack, so he sticks his hand in, holding out a new towel for Zelos. "Here. Dry your hair, too, remember."

That door now closed, Lloyd tosses the blankets onto the bed and grabs a towel for himself, stripping down and drying himself off, putting on his dry bedclothes quickly and with relief. He's not one to be cold often, but it's still not a fun feeling. He spreads his wet clothes out on the floor out of a lack of a better place to dry them, and then sits on the bed, twisting the towel around his head so he can try and dry his hair out best he can. Zelos exits the bathroom only moments later, dry and changed, and follows Lloyd's lead, spreading his clothes out.

They spend a few minutes in silence as they prepare for bed, and once Lloyd finds that his hair is dry enough, he sets the towel down, spreading the spare blankets over the bed, and tucking himself in. Zelos lays down too, tugging the blankets over them both, and there's a beat of hesitation on Lloyd's end, not exactly sure of where to go from here or where their boundaries lie. But Zelos trembles, sniffling, and the hesitation is pushed out of the way by concern, once again. Lloyd reaches out, wraps his arms around Zelos, and pulls him towards him, sharing his warmth again.

"Goodnight, Zelos," Lloyd says, closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep before he begins to second guess himself.

Edited 2019-10-24 22:51 (UTC)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The "Why Can't We Be Friends" roadtrip

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Whoopsie daisy

everybody knows shits fucked!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Comes back a thousand years late with Derris Kharbucks, again

oh hun did you get me my frappe