The clock on the wall was ticking time away, much like it always did whenever Seifer was called into the Captain’s office. This wasn’t the first time, and it likely wouldn’t be the last.
How Drautos still hadn’t decided to relieve him from his Glaive duties and thrown him out for Regis to do whatever he wanted with a traitor that was of no use anymore - the tall blond didn’t know.
Some might think him ungrateful for the way he acted, but underneath it all, there was not much rhyme or reason to it - Seifer simply had found his own way of coping with the past, as unhealthy as it was.
“So… I assume it’s wall duty again?” He finally broke the silence between him and the older male, quirking a brow.
Drautos probably knew how utterly dull this kind of duty was for him and the fact that the Crownsguard was around to annoy the everliving shit out of him was not help either, although the tall blond usually didn’t pick as many fights with them as he did with his fellow Glaives.
Once, years ago, when he was taken in by King Regis as a refugee as well as a traitor with notable knowledge of the inner workings of the Niflheim Empire and it’s strategic forces, Seifer had spent many hours inside of Drautos office, answering questions, reporting what he knew - and he had imagined the man saw something in him. That was, until their ever so beloved hero stepped into the scene. Ulric seemed to very much replace him in terms of interest and attention, and frankly - Seifer had to realize that he likely had been bled for all the information he had been able to give, and no longer served a purpose.
Naturally, if anyone ever bothered to ask, he would decline being jealous. It was of course a matter of principle to him and being replaced without explanation, well. Surely nothing anyone would welcome.
“For the record, I didn’t start it this time.”
Uttering the words, arms came up to cross over his broad chest as he watched the other man, waiting for whatever he had to say.
The new Glaive had looked at him funny and Seifer had done what he always did - started to taunt him. Not his problem if the guy thought he could just try to smack him in the face. Not his fault if his fist found the other one’s nose quicker. If people wanted to act funny, he’d act hilarious, simple as that.
Gloved hand coming up to rub at his features, he let out a sigh, craving a cigarette but deciding he better not taunt the Captain too much today.
