damned_institute | Day 34: Lunch

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Day 34: Lunch

Yuffie bounced all the way through collecting her lunch, all the way to a good seat- one with a nice view of the whole cafeteria, which was something she'd been missing out on during the past day or so that she'd been stuck in the Institute- and hell, she even bounced into her seat.

A good mood? No, really?

Despite the occasional blip, talking to Sagara had been awesome. He was a fun guy; he wasn't a prude, didn't have a stick shoved so far up his ass it was poking out his eyeballs, and he'd actually had a conversation with her. One that hadn't revolved around doom, gloom or how much life sucked. If she could find other people like that and keep in touch with Sagara, maybe there was a little hope for this place.

After a quick gulp of pink lemonade, Yuffie settled to munching through her food and keeping an eye on the door.

[Waiting for Dean, I think? :x]

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"Bridget is an unusual child," Armand explained. "Fight to protect yourself too, or I won't let you protect me." He nodded firmly, then just closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "Being here is so exhausting sometimes."

"I do. I've got enough self preservation instinct for that, at least." He looked down at his almost clean plate. He hadn't really noticed that he had still been eating. "Whatever you think is best with... things like friends. I'm clueless about all of it. No experience."

"There are always times people need friends. When you had your... fellow soldiers, they filled the same role, as much as you knew how." He felt fairly sure of that from what he'd been told. "And that officer you like was even closer." He frowned, scraping at the bottom of his soup bowl. "Did you love him, perhaps?"

TK nodded. Some of the ohers could be royal terrors for him as their Sergeant, but he'd... he'd liked them. "Love... how do you mean?" That was one of those confusing words that had too many conotations that he never could figure out the context for.

"It's like friendship, but deeper. And there are different kinds of love. One can love ones friends and nothing more, but sometimes there is a kind of love that eclipses the others in intensity. When one person's heartbeat blots out the rest of the world, and you know you'd give your life, your very soul, to keep it beating." Armand's voice dropped to a passionate whisper as his eyes grew distant. Remembering.

"I... The former. I've... deffinitely never felt the latter." The way that Armand had started acting when talking about that was... He really didn't know what to make of it at all. But that was nothing new.

Armand glanced down, embarrassed and blushing faintly. "My apologies. I was thinking of my wife." And how he'd destroyed his life to save her. "You deserve a chance." He rested his chin on his free hand. "I need to find a way to tell if you like men or women."

TK's slighly puzzled look was replaced with a blush within seconds. "I, uh... I really have no idea. I mean, I've always been around other men..." Women were just as alien to him as another species would be.

Armand reached for TK's hand again, meaning to hold it gently. It seemed to him that people needed comforting when talking of things like this. "Don't distress yourself. You may not have it in you to be a lover. After all, you are not French, and we are the greatest and most passionate lovers in the world."

Well, that was one good way to make a Stormtrooper blush bright red. He didn't think the blood loss would have allowed for it, but his cheeks were burning. "Uh... I really, really have no idea what to say to that." And not enough brainpower to be anything more than stupidly honest.

Armand grinned cheekily. "There is nothing to say. We may make a passable beau out of you yet, though, if you work at it. You are handsome and honorable, and very, very tall. Women like tall me. Perhaps other men do too." His blue-gray eyes sparkled in good cheer as he tried to plan. Something like this was just what he needed to get his spirits out of the doldrums.

"...Oh." The blush didn't look like it was leaving anytime soon. Well, at least Armand was looking happy. That was a nice change. He was fine with being confused and vaguely worried he was embarassing himself as long as Armand actually cheered up.

The blush was good to see on Morrison's face. It meant the big man was feeling something, even if it were only embarrassment. "You're such a dear man. I would hate to see you lonely if I can help it." The idea of finding friends for his friend was cheering. It gave him something to plan that wasn't guaranteed to fail or hurt someone. There were still risks. Broken hearts were painful too.

He leaned closer, conspiratorially. "Do you wish me to find out for you?

"I... guess..." If my old Sarge heard me talking like this, he'd whallop me for being soft. That thought didn't help. But he was completely out of his depth here. The whole concept of... all of this was just utterly alien to him.

"Oh wonderful!" Armand said cheerily. "Perhaps I can put up a note after lunch." He drank some more lemonade and poked at the breaded chicken. "Is that chicken?" he asked doubtfully.

Then, as if forgetting what he just asked, he went on, "What are we doing next shift? Do you know?"

TK decided he wasn't going to try and respond to that any more. The renewed blush was doing that well enough for him. Food was a less contraversial topic. "...What's a chicken?" Maybe he didn't want to find out, but he'd already eaten whatever it was, anyway.

Usually he could remember the schedule perfectly, but right now he needed a moment to think before he could say with certainty. "Showers for adults." He remembered how much Armand seemed to dislike those.

Some of his smile fading, Armand sighed. "There's nothing wrong with being clean, I suppose." But he wondered how to get the note up.

"Oh well. I'll work out how to find you some friends somehow. And if you look after yourself, you and Bridget can show me more about self-defense."

TK nodded. He saw nothing wrong with the idea of a shower, although a water shower was going to sting like hell on any wounds right now.

"I have no intention of going anywhere dangerous at the moment. Too woozy." Sleep sounded like the most attractive option, really.

"I meant in general," Armand murmured absently as he continued to poke his chicken. It still didn't look like food. He glanced up at Morrison through is lashes. "I can imagine someone being very happy to warm your bed, my friend."

"Wh-" Oh. Well, here came the blush again, along with a look of comprehension. It might be best if the blush just stayed there, so it wouldn't have to keep coming back every ten-or-so seconds. And now he didn't even have any food left to act distracted with. 'Awkward' was an excellent way to describe his state of being.

"When you do that you seem very innocent and naive." And on that subject, he supposed he was. At least Armand had experience in bed. Not a lot, but enough. "I want to help, not torment you. Would you rather I didn't?"

"Well, I am, really." He knew about the whole concept in a vague sort of way, but that was it. "It's fine. I'm just... This is completely new and unfamiliar."

"It won't be new for long. There's a first time for everything." His hand is still now, resting on the table, but his eyes are watching Morrison, not warily but speculatively. "I do wish to know..."

The blush almost started to come back in preparation for whatever was going to be happening next. "...What?" He was sure whatever would happen next was going to warrant another blush, possibly from a combination of surprise, embarassment and confusion.

With a quick, nervous glance from side to side to see if any nurses or orderlies were too close, Armand leaned across the table--that part was awkward--and attempted to plant a very quick kiss on Morrison's lips. The man was already blushing far too much.

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