Work Text:
“Why are we doing this?”
Seifer glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Look, the guy whipped out a knife on us. I didn’t start this shit for once—”
“No, I—” Rinoa rolled her eyes and huffed. “I meant... this.”
Seifer didn’t ask her to elaborate. They both knew they had been on the run together for... ugh, who the hell was keeping count of how many days or weeks or months it was now. Rinoa definitely wasn’t.
“Because,” he murmured, abandoning the unconscious guy he knocked out a moment ago, “we deserve a second chance.”
He had given her plenty of excuses before, but this time? This was different. Because Rinoa believed him.
“I just....” She crossed her arms and sighed, looking anywhere but at him. “I want to believe that, but I don’t know if any of this—” And she jerked her chin at the poor soul who just wanted to collect the fat bounties on their heads. “—will lead to something better for us. I’m always going to be a sorceress and you’re always going to be a war criminal and—”
“Rin.”
She trembled at his gentle voice, at his arms enveloping her, at his lips melting into her forehead and whispering a promise she actually wanted to hold onto for once.
“We will get a second chance,” was all he said.
Maybe. One day. Whenever that is, she prayed they’d look back on this bullshit and just laugh.