Work Text:
Train.
"Hey," Cid says.
Vincent looks up, tearing his eyes away from the scenery as it flashes by. Cid’s already given it a passing glance, but he really couldn't give a fuck; the sky is so much better than the ground. Faster, too.
"What color were your eyes?"
"What?" Vincent blinks, a bit floored by the question.
Cid shrugs. "Your eyes. They're red, and they didn't used to be. What were they before?"
Vincent hesitates, pondering at the window for a moment before meeting Cid's gaze again. "Brown."
"Huh," Cid murmurs, looking thoughtful. "Weird."
*
Distance.
He glances over the bend of his own arm, the real one, strewn messily over a pillow. "I just realized something," Vincent says.
Cid grunts in response.
Vincent pauses, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling before letting his gaze fall lazily on Cid. "...I haven't had sex in thirty years." His short laugh can't decide if it’s derisive, pitiful, or a sad little mix of the two.
With an exhausted groan, Cid opens his eyes and shrugs half-heartedly. "Yeah, well, fuck, happens to the best of us."
Vincent just shoves at him, rolling over, and still looking a bit contemplative... but mostly just sleepy.
* * *