Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 8 > Fated Children
Laguna supposed it was odd to idolize Squall. The boy was . . . still just that, a boy/. But he had that look in his eyes that just /demanded your respect and admiration.
It was the eyes that reminded him of Raine at first. He'd seen Squall, fleetingly, on the Station, and had seen those eyes, and had known/, in his gut: This is Raine's child. This is the child the letter from Winhill said had been sent to the orphanage on Centra. This is Ellone's 'brother'/.
And to meet him was something else. Though he was not very much like Raine had been, he had that understanding air about him, that way of drawing people in even when he said he didn't need them there.
On the Ragnarok, as the children-/children/; Laguna was still boggled by that-flitted from continent to continent and paid their last farewells to their Garden, Laguna watched the land and ocean race beneath them, hands pressed to the glass and trying not to think of the stoic young man on the bridge that made shivers run down his spine and a strange flutter come to his chest.
Kiros, just behind his shoulder, quietly said, "Leonheart looks like his mother. Are you going to tell him?"
"What's the use? Do you really think he'll believe me?"
"It'll make you happy to have him know." Kiros, of course, was right. But it was frightening, confronting that stern face. Squall had his eyes instead of Raine's, and when they had met for the first time, Laguna had remembered being seventeen. He had not been so hard as Raine's son.
"He's just so . . . different than I'd thought he'd be."
"He led a different life then you would have liked." Laguna nodded, watching the sun set along the line of the railroad tracks that branched from Galbadia to the Salt Lake.
"I wish I'd been like that."
"Why/?" He looked at Kiros, hearing the chuckle in his deep voice. Kiros smiled a little, gently touching Laguna's shoulder. "You would have been absolutely /insufferable in the military if you'd been like that-well . . . more insufferable than you were."
"Hey!" He thwacked Kiros firmly in the shoulder, but somehow managed to smile at the same time.
Any potential to lean in and kiss was broken by Ward suddenly uttering a deep grunt. Laguna turned to see Squall standing in the door to the passenger area, one chocolate brow raised and skepticism written across his face for a half a moment, before it disappeared behind the stony facade.
How Laguna wished he could be like that, able to bring up the mask in a second flat. He stepped forward with a congenial smile, looking expectant.
"We're going to be staying in Winhill tonight. Ellone . . . she wants you to come down with us, instead of staying in the cabin onboard."
She wants me to? Or do you, Squall? Laguna didn't think that Squall would even be able to admit if he did want that.
And, while he did wish he was as strong as Raine's son, and as easily detached from the situation as him, he did not begrudge his own emotions.
It was the eyes that reminded him of Raine at first. He'd seen Squall, fleetingly, on the Station, and had seen those eyes, and had known/, in his gut: This is Raine's child. This is the child the letter from Winhill said had been sent to the orphanage on Centra. This is Ellone's 'brother'/.
And to meet him was something else. Though he was not very much like Raine had been, he had that understanding air about him, that way of drawing people in even when he said he didn't need them there.
On the Ragnarok, as the children-/children/; Laguna was still boggled by that-flitted from continent to continent and paid their last farewells to their Garden, Laguna watched the land and ocean race beneath them, hands pressed to the glass and trying not to think of the stoic young man on the bridge that made shivers run down his spine and a strange flutter come to his chest.
Kiros, just behind his shoulder, quietly said, "Leonheart looks like his mother. Are you going to tell him?"
"What's the use? Do you really think he'll believe me?"
"It'll make you happy to have him know." Kiros, of course, was right. But it was frightening, confronting that stern face. Squall had his eyes instead of Raine's, and when they had met for the first time, Laguna had remembered being seventeen. He had not been so hard as Raine's son.
"He's just so . . . different than I'd thought he'd be."
"He led a different life then you would have liked." Laguna nodded, watching the sun set along the line of the railroad tracks that branched from Galbadia to the Salt Lake.
"I wish I'd been like that."
"Why/?" He looked at Kiros, hearing the chuckle in his deep voice. Kiros smiled a little, gently touching Laguna's shoulder. "You would have been absolutely /insufferable in the military if you'd been like that-well . . . more insufferable than you were."
"Hey!" He thwacked Kiros firmly in the shoulder, but somehow managed to smile at the same time.
Any potential to lean in and kiss was broken by Ward suddenly uttering a deep grunt. Laguna turned to see Squall standing in the door to the passenger area, one chocolate brow raised and skepticism written across his face for a half a moment, before it disappeared behind the stony facade.
How Laguna wished he could be like that, able to bring up the mask in a second flat. He stepped forward with a congenial smile, looking expectant.
"We're going to be staying in Winhill tonight. Ellone . . . she wants you to come down with us, instead of staying in the cabin onboard."
She wants me to? Or do you, Squall? Laguna didn't think that Squall would even be able to admit if he did want that.
And, while he did wish he was as strong as Raine's son, and as easily detached from the situation as him, he did not begrudge his own emotions.
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