brown to blue.
Momma asked for this. :3 He said "Angeal! And maybe Zack", so We... came up with this 8D;
Title: Brown to Blue
Characters // Pairings: Zack, Angeal // none
Rating // Warnings: G // none
Canon: Pre-Crisis Core
Wordcount: 367
Summary: A fifteen-year-old Angeal Hewley meets his pupil for the first time.
---
The brat sits in front of him on the carpet, fingers digging into the threadbare surface, collecting lint beneath his short, bitten nails. His eyes, dog-brown, stare up at him sullenly. The young swordsman sighs, runs a hand through dark hair.
"Fine," he mutters, and picks up the kid, mako-blue eyes rolling a little. The seven-year-old, scrawny even for his age, is a bundle of bones in his arms, and fifteen-year-old Angeal Hewley sighs a little, even though fifty pounds is nothing for him to lift. "What are you called, then?" he asks, and the little one scowls at him.
"Zack," he says blandly, then digs a grimy paw into Angeal's hair, tugging at it viciously. "Lemme down, old man!"
The young SOLDIER winces, but keeps his hold. "I'm to bring you to the SOLDIER union executive. You're a candidate."
"Candi... candy?" interprets the brown-eyed boy. Angeal tries and fails to imagine him with blue eyes instead.
"No," he replies with a heavy sigh, lifting the boy a little better against his chest. "Never mind. You'll see when we get there. You're not afraid of needles, are you?"
"'Course not," says the brat importantly, puffing up his skinny chest and arranges his arms so he's got one clamped around his neck and the other his upper torso. "I ain't afraid of nothin'."
The buds of wings along the young man's shoulderblade pulse angrily at the touch, but Angeal, used to such surges of pain, does not react and simply begins to walk, carrying the boy from the small waiting room upwards to an empty meeting room. "You'll be meeting him here. Sit quietly." He deposits the boy in an unassuming sort of chair and strides out of the room, then stops. He's an idiot.
Angeal Hewley, product of Project G and son of Gillian Hewley, sighs and walks back into the room he's left his future pupil in. "You're not capable of that, I forgot. Fine, then." He sits opposite the young boy, arms folded. "Then, tell me about yourself."
Zack Fair begins chatting excitedly about all sorts of stuff, and Angeal feels his lips begin to curve upward. Perhaps... he'll get used to this one. Perhaps.
Title: Brown to Blue
Characters // Pairings: Zack, Angeal // none
Rating // Warnings: G // none
Canon: Pre-Crisis Core
Wordcount: 367
Summary: A fifteen-year-old Angeal Hewley meets his pupil for the first time.
---
The brat sits in front of him on the carpet, fingers digging into the threadbare surface, collecting lint beneath his short, bitten nails. His eyes, dog-brown, stare up at him sullenly. The young swordsman sighs, runs a hand through dark hair.
"Fine," he mutters, and picks up the kid, mako-blue eyes rolling a little. The seven-year-old, scrawny even for his age, is a bundle of bones in his arms, and fifteen-year-old Angeal Hewley sighs a little, even though fifty pounds is nothing for him to lift. "What are you called, then?" he asks, and the little one scowls at him.
"Zack," he says blandly, then digs a grimy paw into Angeal's hair, tugging at it viciously. "Lemme down, old man!"
The young SOLDIER winces, but keeps his hold. "I'm to bring you to the SOLDIER union executive. You're a candidate."
"Candi... candy?" interprets the brown-eyed boy. Angeal tries and fails to imagine him with blue eyes instead.
"No," he replies with a heavy sigh, lifting the boy a little better against his chest. "Never mind. You'll see when we get there. You're not afraid of needles, are you?"
"'Course not," says the brat importantly, puffing up his skinny chest and arranges his arms so he's got one clamped around his neck and the other his upper torso. "I ain't afraid of nothin'."
The buds of wings along the young man's shoulderblade pulse angrily at the touch, but Angeal, used to such surges of pain, does not react and simply begins to walk, carrying the boy from the small waiting room upwards to an empty meeting room. "You'll be meeting him here. Sit quietly." He deposits the boy in an unassuming sort of chair and strides out of the room, then stops. He's an idiot.
Angeal Hewley, product of Project G and son of Gillian Hewley, sighs and walks back into the room he's left his future pupil in. "You're not capable of that, I forgot. Fine, then." He sits opposite the young boy, arms folded. "Then, tell me about yourself."
Zack Fair begins chatting excitedly about all sorts of stuff, and Angeal feels his lips begin to curve upward. Perhaps... he'll get used to this one. Perhaps.