in this light / seth & gisele
seth was nervous in lifts on the best of days. the feeling of powerlessness as the rickety machine soared upwards, the secret fear that the death trap would go crashing to the floor, leading to the young agents less than spectacular untimely demise — these were concerns that did not mix, coupled with his jittery nature. seth might have seemed like a perfectly balanced guy, but he simply could not stand losing control, not even when it was the mere workings of an elevator resting on his ultimate fate. feet set apart, his presence swallowed the tiny space, blue eyes flicking from buttons, to bright ceiling lights, to the overly shiny floor, and he considered, rather darkly, his last words. slightly surprised that he himself couldn’t immediately recall the last thing he’d said that day, he decided finally that it must have been the lifeless ‘ fine, thanks ’ he’d uttered to a plain doctor-type woman who had casually inquired to how he was getting on. he hated that woman. if he was to go hurtling to a young death right now, she’d only go mouthing off that she was the last one to speak to seth holland, and that his final uttering had been ‘ fine, thanks ’. they’d put ‘ fine, thanks ’ on his headstone. the thought made him shudder — fine; something nobody would ever use to describe his general state of being, and thanks; a word he rarely used. in fact, seth was beginning to wonder why he’d answered her at all, and why he hadn’t just kicked her right in the teeth.
a vague memory flooded his mind — best friends had on one mission been finalising plans for their individual funerals, and darius had thoughtlessly come up with ' seth in stone ’ for the agent’s grave. not wanting to give the other an ego, seth had shrugged initially, but to this day the suggestion made him smile.
the absent grin adorning his features died, however, and as quickly as it would have done should the elevator have crashed, when the familiar noise of the doors opening sounded above him, and he moved to the side to allow whoever it was to enter.
small stature, brunette hair — the lift might as well have gone sinking down, because seth’s insides suddenly felt like they were hurtling to the ground. the entrant was the last person he’d wanted to see again in a hurry, and yet the only person he ever wanted to see. sliding further to the wall, he allowed himself to slouch against it, eyes fixed to the floor, arms crossed rigidly behind himself, and he only looked up momentarily to meet her gaze, offering a tight smile — reminiscent of an expression you’d throw towards an old high school friend who was doing much better than you these days, and who you hadn’t particularly liked in the first place anyway.
