Saturday
Title: Saturday
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Rating: PG
Summary: Some morning are just better than others.
A/N: Drabbles are just drabbles for a reason? Epically short for my usual... Mostly for uruwashii_uso, and kind of EJ's fault, save that EJ had nothing really to do with it other than be amazing?
Saturday mornings weren't anything special. They took some getting used to, but nothing particularly special when Cid rolled out of bed, as per usual. Mostly due to the fact that it was hard to sleep in it by himself. Shera and her habits... It wasn't much of an affair. A good stretch, scrubbing at his face. More than enough of a reminder that he should, eventually, shave. Then it was a staggering sort of shamble to the kitchen with his lighter, cigarettes, and last night's cup of tea in hand to put it in the sink. A hip popping wasn't pleasant, but these things happened.
Shera was up and humming, nothing unusual. Sure, she was in a better mood these days. Not like Cid had much to complain about. "Morning, honey!" she chirped, 'honey' falling out almost a millisecond after a near 'ca--' shape came to her mouth.
Cid just grunted and plopped himself into one of the kitchen table chairs, old mug on the table. Vincent was already sitting across from him, looking like he'd just woken up from the afterlife, passing over the business section of the newspaper (it always took forever to deliver, a couple of week's worth at once, but it was better than none at all) without taking his eyes off the day's crossword puzzle. Which was what had really been what took a little gettin' used to.
"Good morning, Chief. There's a fairly interesting article towards the end," Vincent mumbled, sounding rather distracted to Cid, picking at the bowl of oatmeal at his left hand-side.
Making a face (oatmeal? Seriously?), but accepting it nonetheless, he supposed it could be worse. Shera set down his breakfast, and hers, brushing a kiss along her husband's forehead. He waved her off, muttering under his breath. It wasn't that he was particularly grumpy, just that he was tired, goddamn it, and just wanted to eat his food in peace.
She ignored him and promptly swatted at the back of Vincent's hand. "Don't play with your food. Eat it."
Of course, Cid had to grin, hiding it, just in case, with his hash browns.
Some mornings were just better than others.
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Rating: PG
Summary: Some morning are just better than others.
A/N: Drabbles are just drabbles for a reason? Epically short for my usual... Mostly for uruwashii_uso, and kind of EJ's fault, save that EJ had nothing really to do with it other than be amazing?
Saturday mornings weren't anything special. They took some getting used to, but nothing particularly special when Cid rolled out of bed, as per usual. Mostly due to the fact that it was hard to sleep in it by himself. Shera and her habits... It wasn't much of an affair. A good stretch, scrubbing at his face. More than enough of a reminder that he should, eventually, shave. Then it was a staggering sort of shamble to the kitchen with his lighter, cigarettes, and last night's cup of tea in hand to put it in the sink. A hip popping wasn't pleasant, but these things happened.
Shera was up and humming, nothing unusual. Sure, she was in a better mood these days. Not like Cid had much to complain about. "Morning, honey!" she chirped, 'honey' falling out almost a millisecond after a near 'ca--' shape came to her mouth.
Cid just grunted and plopped himself into one of the kitchen table chairs, old mug on the table. Vincent was already sitting across from him, looking like he'd just woken up from the afterlife, passing over the business section of the newspaper (it always took forever to deliver, a couple of week's worth at once, but it was better than none at all) without taking his eyes off the day's crossword puzzle. Which was what had really been what took a little gettin' used to.
"Good morning, Chief. There's a fairly interesting article towards the end," Vincent mumbled, sounding rather distracted to Cid, picking at the bowl of oatmeal at his left hand-side.
Making a face (oatmeal? Seriously?), but accepting it nonetheless, he supposed it could be worse. Shera set down his breakfast, and hers, brushing a kiss along her husband's forehead. He waved her off, muttering under his breath. It wasn't that he was particularly grumpy, just that he was tired, goddamn it, and just wanted to eat his food in peace.
She ignored him and promptly swatted at the back of Vincent's hand. "Don't play with your food. Eat it."
Of course, Cid had to grin, hiding it, just in case, with his hash browns.
Some mornings were just better than others.