The musings of a bitter man who has to watch a child age faster than he should. (Balthier/Vaan, Basch/Vaan, Balthier/Fran)
I don't own Final Fantasy 12 or any of the characters and I'm not making any money by posting it.
Envious. Vaan was so envious. Anyone could see it and it broke my heart to watch it. His eyes would flit from one to the other. Balthier and Fran. He’d watch them so carefully, a bitter look passing over his face before a sick sort of detachment. I could easily understand that look, as it was no stranger to me. That cold-hot sensation that coils in your belly, feeling so heavy yet light enough that you may just float from your seat. And then comes the icy numb that takes control of your limbs… makes you feel like they’ll soon turn to giant blocks of ice if you don’t keep them moving long enough.
There is a strong feeling of wanting to just not care anymore. Such a hatred for the one you love that makes you wish you could find something else. Someone else? Something, anything to make you feel wanted and needed.
It hurts to watch, Vaan. You’re too young to feel this way. You are brighter than the very treasures you covet, and yet you ruin yourself by letting his eyes pass over you the way they do. A layer of grime settles over your glimmer with every passing touch (accidental my ass).
And yet it happens, and you love it, and he likes it, and I hate it. I watch it and you feel it and he does it.
But when it’s over, it’s over. He saunters back into the bar and resumes his conversation, leaving you to dress and stumble out awkwardly by yourself. He flirts with countless women before your very eyes, sparing a laugh as you realize you’ve pulled your trousers on backwards. You blush, he winks, and then it’s over.
You’re brighter than the very treasures you risk your life for, and yet you allow him to darken your beautiful face with an age far past your own.
He’s attracted, you’re dying, and I’m letting it happen.
After a few drinks, it’s time for bed. Balthier casts a long glance in Fran’s direction, giving her a silent invitation. She ignores him as she always does and he sighs at the rejection. And then... From the corner of his eye, his attention shifts to you. You sink in your seat, looking to me briefly with uncertainty in your eyes. I raise my eyebrows, wanting to tell you not to give in this time. I should say something.
Damn it, Basch... say something.
This is your chance to change everything.
You can save this boy.
You can take him to your room and show him true affection and love.
Covet him, treasure him, and make him completely yours.
God damn it, Basch! Say anything!
I say nothing. You bite your lip… you stand from your seat… and then you go to him. He smirks, his hand possessively settled on your lower back. He leads you off to his room. The door closes behind you both… and my chance is gone. You’re gone. I can already see you aging two more years in that single moment. You’re only seventeen, yet your eyes are thirty-seven. How much longer before the life in your eyes finally fades away completely?
For once, I regret remaining uninvolved.