The "Why Can't We Be Friends" roadtrip

[presidentheartbeat]

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.

Comments

[risingfalcon]

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.”

[presidenteheartbeat]

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...?"

[risingfalcon]

"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."

Comes back a thousand years late with Derris Kharbucks, again

[presidenteheartbeat]

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.

oh hun did you get me my frappe

[risingfalcon]

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.