His eyes scan the now-familiar grounds. For some reason, he’s taken quite a liking to the place, and chuckles whenever he remembers the time when he despised the drab and gray mediocrity of the city. Now, it only means one thing to him: home. That’s all Edge has ever been to him following the destruction of Eden, even though it took some time for him to accept it.
Things have gotten so simple ever since… the incident. With Pulsian settlements doing well on their own and this city not getting destroyed ever so often, the shoes he’s filling got several sizes smaller. The big problems are yesterday’s problems.
Today, Cid Raines enters 7th Heaven and asks at the counter for a drink.
Rygdea had been sitting in a booth sighing regularly for perhaps half an hour now, wondering when his life had started to change so much. After Barthandelus and Eden’s downfall, he had managed to adapt well enough. Things were new, interesting, differenty, and even though a lot had been lost, there was a hope in the people that hadn’t been there before. Change and freedom was in the air, and he took both with open arms.
Everything had been going well. He’d been meeting new people, learning new things… He smiled vaguely to himself. And Cid… That had been surprising, to say the least. Not that he hadn’t wanted it, he just never believed it would happen. And damn, but he missed him… ‘Time off’ was not working out… He sighed again and flicked the umbrella in his drink again. He wasn’t even sure what he was drinking…
He frowned gently as he felt a draught as the door opened, wondering who the new arrival was, if it was Fang or someone he could share his drink with. He almost fell sideways out of his seat when he saw that black hair, the uniform… It couldn’t be!
“C-Cid!” He said, grinning suddenly and stumbling out of his seat. “Speak o’ the Devil and he shall appear, I was just thinkin’ bout you!” He said with a wink.
“And I you,” Cid replies as a smug grin graces his features. Cid sits across the table from Rygdea and ordered a drink for both of them. “How has your leave been treating you?” he asks energetically. “Still got that natural charm?” He laughs at the fond memory.
via damnidealism
