chauffeuring | ic inbox for the pines

❰ to the request, gladio offers only a faint 'mmn' sort of grunt in his throat as he slides in under the blankets before settling on his back, one arm behind his head, with a long exhale.

he doesn't plan to explain. he doesn't plan to say anything at all, really. in fact, if ignis doesn't ask, gladio's breathing is gonna slow down to a very sleeplike cadence within a couple of short minutes. ❱

[ ignis waits until gladiolus has settled, shifting to get comfortable himself before huffing his breath out quietly. he'll never admit it out loud but there's something almost comforting in having the other sleeping nearby, as if it's something they do every day and not on extremely rare occasions. even now ignis is starting to feel the tension in his shoulders and upper back start to seep away and he knows it's only going to be a short while before he's drifting off.

really he should be asking gladio what's bothering him enough to be crawling into ignis's bed, to query if he's got the feeling that something isn't quite right recently. but between the way the bed dips under gladio's weight and the warmth from the other, ignis lets himself slowly drowse instead, not at all sleeping but for now it'll do.]

❰ and thus they both crash without another word. but if ignis wakes up anytime in the night, he'll find an arm draped around his middle, a face buried in the hollow between his shoulder blades. make no mistake, gladio's sleeping like a rock, entirely oblivious to the predicament.

looks like iggy's stuck. ❱

[ at least one of them is sleeping soundly. ignis can manage nothing more than a doze, trying to ignore thoughts that circle his mind repetitively when there's nothing to distract himself with. not even the arm around his middle or gladio's face pressed against him can bother ignis out of his musings. at this rate he's never going to sleep again.

after an hour or so ignis finally gives up, shifting to nudge gladio in the side with one elbow. he waits until the other is only just surfacing from his sleep before asking something.] Gladio. Do you know anything about a citadel?

❰ the nudge has him grunting, brow furrowing in wordless protest. it's not morning, is it? can't be. the hell's he waking him up for?

and then comes the question, like a bucket of cold water that lingers, chilly, around his spine. a citadel. citadel.

the citadel.

something about it resonates, like a gong that makes no sound but instead sends a shudder through your very soul. there are flashes of - of what? of nothing. of shit that doesn't make sense in the slightest, like something he saw in a dream.

the silence is too long, but gladio's too still to pass for asleep. he's not sure if he's remembered to breathe these last few seconds but he's breathing now, careful and deliberate. as if he's ever been careful and deliberate in his whole goddamn life. ❱

I-... ❰ his throat's too dry - the word comes out scratchy, even so quiet.

after a second, he scowls against ignis's back. ❱ What are you talking about? ❰ why now? why that word? something's fucking strange and gladio doesn't know entirely how to reconcile it. ❱

[ gladio doesn't even need to say anything. not when ignis can feel the other tensing up against him, staying silent instead of easily shrugging such a thing off.

the silence lets ignis know that the word means something to gladio too and for the first time in a good while there's a sense of relief, a reassurance that he's not going completely insane with intrusive thoughts on occasion. certainly it meant that something strange was going on, but with gladio in on it too, ignis knows that it won't be as much of a nightmare as it could have been.]

A citadel. The citadel, Gladio. [ ignis speaks quietly, sounding exasperated as if explaining it to someone who should know better. he makes no move to get gladio off of his back; despite what's going on, gladio is still a comforting weight.] You know it, don't you?

❰ yeah, he knows it. or at least, some subconscious part of him apparently does. just the thought of the word has a lump in his gut. he doesn't know a single concrete fact about this citadel place, except that all of a sudden, all of this is so much bigger than gladio. bigger than either of them.

it scares the shit out of him.

but still he nods a silent affirmative, one ignis can no doubt feel. ❱ I think-... ❰ his voice is already hushed, but he swallows hard and drops it down to barely more than a whisper. ❱ All those signs. ❰ the 'official notices', or whatever they're called. the ones in every building. the ones that say not to talk about 'before'. this has to be what they're talking about, doesn't it? the fact that there are bylaws, actual protocols for this - it makes it all feel so much more real, and makes gladio feel so much more impotent for his inability to remember. ❱

[ ignis feels the nod and the moment he does is the exact time his shoulders begin to relax. just knowing that gladio has an awareness of the same thing takes a load off; there had been the odd moment here and there where ignis had wondered if he'd truly begun to lose it. there was no other explanation for it, but now there's a second person in the loop ignis can explain it as an occurrence and not an issue so to speak.]

They mean something. [ the silent warning of sorts is heard clear as day. if these memories, for lack of better word, weren't real then there would be no reason for signs to warn again 'before'. now thinking on it, a whole slew of new problems makes themselves known. if the memories were real, then what did that make this town? and worse still, what would happen if they disregarded them?] I don't think anything leaves this room.

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