peacefuleyes‌:
( @restorationleader​ continued from x )
 Laguna paused as Squall piped up, noting the quiet solemnity of his voice with a curious perk of his brow as he cast green eyes back over his shoulder. He had to remind himself that Ellone had worked her magic on the boy — well, on the both of them really — dropping Squall and his friends in on some strange and fragmented parts of the Galbadian’s life; the little faeries that tickled at the back of his mind, listening… watching… knowing things without being told. He wondered how much Squall knew about this place and the people who had once lived here. The person who had once lived here.
 “Not so long, actually,” he prompted with a small smile, hands stuffed in his pockets as they walked, stones turning to dirt as the spacing of the buildings thinned along the roadway leading away from downtown. “Made a stop back a couple of years ago, but didn’t stay long — didn’t bother going even going in to town really,” he admitted with just a touch of something unspoken to his tone, turning his gaze ahead once more. “There’s only one place here that still interests me,” he pointed ahead to a small shop on the left with a wafting fragrance that carried on the breeze. “Let’s stop in here a minute? It shouldn’t take long,” he reassured him.
 The truth of the matter was Squall had been his first and only choice to bring along on this little trip. His own motives were still a bit unclear, even to himself, but something inside him knew it needed to be done — that he owed Squall that much, even if the young man would never demand it or expect it of him.Â
squall glances up and shrugs a shoulder at the comment. it’s fine if he’s quiet but the moment laguna starts to chime back is when he starts paying attention again. normally he’s not this attentive in situations like this but he finds himself feeling a little more on edge than usual. it’s not that hard to tell if one looks closely enough to find it -- it’s a little tense for him. the knitting of his eyebrows, creases a little rougher while his mouth sits in a stern line.
     ( That was the last time I saw you here, but I could be wrong. It’s not like sis gave me the whole picture or anything. )Â
with the way laguna talks about the town, it’s like he’s avoiding it but it’s not something he cares to ask nor bothers to. even with the idea that talking to people isn’t ... so bad this time around, it still goes to show that he’s effectively closed off to the prospect of lending an ear to someone else’s problems when he doesn’t know them well enough to care. the emotional trip isn’t worth the time of day, especially since he feels obligated to do something -- or feeling guilty when he has nothing to say but harsh words or stinging truths. it’s not like him to pick up someone else’s baggage.
squall continues to follow laguna in somewhat distanced proximity while they meander around the town. the buildings are just as he remembers them the last time he was here. they had visited raine’s bar .. someone else had bought the place, some blonde woman if he remembers right. the lilies in the bowls that sat on the tables that were placed meticulously around the bottom floor. rinoa commenting on how it almost looked the same but upon further inspection, she couldn’t be farther from the truth. he notices now that the paint is chipped from the wood, dried from the beating of the sun glaring down the wooden planks, the uneven stone stairs that lead up into some of the buildings.Â
     ( Then why make a scene about not leaving when you go on your own trips out ... ? There’s nothing memorable for me here, I still don’t know why you asked me. It’s not like I have any attachment to her, it’s just you. )
     “ Whatever, “ squall finally decides to speak, seeming a little less than enthusiastic to be in a town with no meaning to him. he’d seen it in memories but those weren’t his. the grave had no bearing on him, and ... flowers? what does laguna want with a flower shop? is he getting flowers for the grave? “ Why are we at the flower shop? “ it’s said with a hint of a guess as to why, although that flat curiosity still lingers.