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It was sheer habit that had Zack up before the sunrise. Every day, without so much as an alarm set to rouse him, he'd wake, pull himself out of bed, pull on his SOLDIER fatigues, and head outside, stopping along the way only to grab his sword, to have his run about the island, to practise and to keep himself in shape for whatever might come.
Today, habit was taking a holiday.
Oh, Zack was awake, sure. And one might even argue that he was up. But it was the sort of up that had him sitting at the foot of the bed, leaning forward and staring down at the floor. He'd been running from a lot of things lately, bottling it all away and slapping on a smile that was so thorough that at times, he suspected even Ino didn't know the difference. She had her own troubles. She didn't need to worry about more of his than she already was.
He'd get up, eventually. He'd do his laps of the island in the snow and the cold, and not even notice the chill January air on his bare arms. He'd press the Buster Sword to his forehead and remember Angeal, try to get a grasp on his own honor, his own dreams and pride. And, the same way he'd been doing for weeks now, he'd lose all of that, and he'd just see the sword, standing silent vigil over the flowers growing in the floorboards...
Eventually. Eventually, Zack would start the day. For now, he was going to just sit there and contemplate his toes some more.
[Open for... anyone up this early in the morning! The awake-too-soon thing is totally method RP, I think. Guh, it is before seven.]
Today, habit was taking a holiday.
Oh, Zack was awake, sure. And one might even argue that he was up. But it was the sort of up that had him sitting at the foot of the bed, leaning forward and staring down at the floor. He'd been running from a lot of things lately, bottling it all away and slapping on a smile that was so thorough that at times, he suspected even Ino didn't know the difference. She had her own troubles. She didn't need to worry about more of his than she already was.
He'd get up, eventually. He'd do his laps of the island in the snow and the cold, and not even notice the chill January air on his bare arms. He'd press the Buster Sword to his forehead and remember Angeal, try to get a grasp on his own honor, his own dreams and pride. And, the same way he'd been doing for weeks now, he'd lose all of that, and he'd just see the sword, standing silent vigil over the flowers growing in the floorboards...
Eventually. Eventually, Zack would start the day. For now, he was going to just sit there and contemplate his toes some more.
[Open for... anyone up this early in the morning! The awake-too-soon thing is totally method RP, I think. Guh, it is before seven.]
