FANFIC: staying over
6 October 2020 03:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cyanoscarletWord count: 536
“You do realize your room alone is much bigger than this entire apartment?”
“Exactly-- it’s a lot stuffier than I would ever like. It’s why I never stay there.”
-
Despite their relatively opulent lifestyle, the Caraways generally frown on anything excessively frivolous, with the good General himself admonishing his daughter every so often for being “a bad role model to your generation.” Not that it stops Rinoa from taking her writing business outside every so often, however— to small booths in coffee shops, in particular, where she could work on her manuscripts in peace despite the ambient chatter and the occasional roughhousing of rowdy college students she could frankly care less about.
Which is why the day the Galbadian government declared a state of health emergency and ordered the closure of all but the essential establishments is the worst day of her year, yet— just when she’s already at the most important part of the story, too.
Not to be disheartened by such a dire state of affairs, however, she marches out of the house the next day, as usual, notes and laptop and alcohol and cloth mask, to the next best place:
“You do realize your room alone is much bigger than this entire apartment?”
“Exactly, it’s a lot stuffier than I would ever like. It’s why I never stay there.”
Squall only rolls his eyes at this, chucking a marshmallow pillow in her direction, which she catches one-handed with ease anyway.
The room faintly smells of antiseptic and liniment, and Rinoa lets out a sad smile. “How’s Raine doing?”
“Mom’s rheumatism is a lot better this week. Dad and I take turns massaging her at night.” She follows Squall’s gaze to the small tub on his desk, beside the framed family photo there. He’s never been a sentimental person, as far as she knows him, but the very recent ICU scare had no doubt shaken him to his core. She could not fault him for it; she knows what it feels like to lose a mother, after all.
Rinoa sets her laptop aside, scooting over to where he sits on the bed and giving him a backside hug, the marshmallow pillow between them gently pressing into the space between his shoulder blades. Squall says nothing at this, slightly leaning back and quietly relishing the welcome warmth now there.
“What about work?” he asks anyway, as she inches even closer and inhales the musk from his shirt. Rinoa releases one arm at this, playfully wagging her index finger. “Hush, you. It can wait. Today’s about you.” She punctuates this with a kiss on his temple, leaving a faint mark of tinted lip gloss there. He doesn’t wipe it off, as he did before.
“And your dad?” Squall manages a smile this time, expertly turning around and catching her lips in a return kiss. It takes a while before she could reply, from how busy and hands-y they eventually end up, but her canned response is the same as ever: “As long as I’m not whiling my afternoons away in a coffee shop, he won’t mind.”
The wink she follows it up with makes him crack up in earnest, and Rinoa flicks his nose in mock embarrassment. She still smiles, though; as long as they have these moments together, they’re going to be all right— no matter what the world has to say about it.
