wordmage: Pen nib with a paw print (Default)
Crimson-Sun did a fantastic piece of art of Lazard and Sephiroth, from the shoulders up, and you're looking at Sephiroth's back but he has his head bowed a little, and Lazard is touching his face with this tender, compassionate look. Obviously, I had to write about it.

[Original Tumblr Post X]


“They’re gone.”
 
Lazard looked up immediately at the quiet words, lips parting though he could find none of his own at the sight of his lover. In so many ways, Sephiroth had always embodied strength to him, and if you gave him a passing glance tonight he was no different. He stood tall, posture perfect, an imposing figure of black, silver and porcelain. His face was schooled into neutrality, deep voice steady.
 
But his eyes, those brilliant green eyes… something was broken, and threatened to lose him in the wash of pain like nothing he’d ever known. In that moment, he felt a nearly blinding fury towards the two missing SOLDIERs, that they could just go without a word. They were his friends as well, and he would likely miss them, but Sephiroth… he was devastated.
 
For all his strength, for all his skill, for all the battles he’d fought and the war he’d won… he was not prepared for this. This injury cut deeper than a blade and would not heal anywhere near as quickly. It might never heal completely, as stricken as he was, but all he could do was hope.
 
He’d risen at some point, crossing to his lover and touching his cheek with a gloved hand. That he bowed his head into it without reservation made his heart ache, and he touched their heads together. “Sephiroth…”
 
“They left me.” The words were a whisper, lost and hurting in ways the younger man didn’t understand, had never had to deal with before. “Not a word. Angeal and I had breakfast that morning, and…”
 
And he was gone, without a word, without a hint that he would do so, in the middle of a mission. Yes, Lazard knew. He’d been there, if not in the thick of it. Zack had been baffled, and the others kept in the dark, but he knew the moment he’d seen Sephiroth’s face that he had been betrayed again.
 
The abandonment cut him to the core, but he’d barely had time to react until now. Part of him was touched that he was considered safe enough, a haven for his general - his love, because this went so far beyond the bond of comrades, this wasn’t the silver general standing so close that their heads touched and his bangs obscured his expression. He’d lost so much more than subordinates. Most of him, however, ached that he hurt so badly he needed someone else to cling to.
 
He could have happily lived his life with Sephiroth never needing to lean on his strength, never being hurt like this. But life was often cruel, and even if Angeal and Genesis came back through the door this very night, the damage was done. Even a mended heart would always have fine cracks, broken bits where it was weakened. Where it could break once more.
 
“I don’t understand,” for a moment, his hands were simply clenched at his sides, but then they were holding his jacket as tightly as they dared. Ever mindful of his strength, ever mindful of the needs of others even when he didn’t understand why. He tried so hard.
 
And they left.
 

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