(Final Fantasy) Shards (6/?)
Title: Shards
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Parring: Angeal Hewley/Cloud Strife (Like it's even a surprise anymore xD ), other future slash
Timeline: Post Advent Children
Warnings: Follows the basic timeline, but takes liberties with Crisis Core
Summary: There are some memories lost to Cloud, but hopefully the shards could be recovered. Hopefully the pieces could be put back in place by a gentle, patient hand.
Disclaimer: Square Enix
Author Says: Revised. What was I thinking with that last chapter? My inner writer cringed and then proceeded to smack me upside the head with my own unfinished novel. This one flows better, I hope.
Cloud wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. He was repeating behavior he had once been guilty of when he had gotten Geostigma. Spending days at the church and leaving only to run deliveries, answering his phone minimally. Instead of an illness, however, the reason behind his actions was a person. Tifa least of all would be pleased to know this. But he felt like something important rested with Angeal and he wanted, no, he needed to find out what that was without the conflicting opinions of his friends.
It was getting easier to talk to Angeal. Their conversations flowed more naturally and less awkwardly, especially since his shoulders lost their tense set whenever Angeal was around. Though they did talk, it surprised Cloud at how little they managed to say about their own lives. Cloud didn’t know much about him aside from his name, though Angeal did let slip that he had been from a small town. And if Angeal knew Cloud was the one who defeated Sephiroth, he pretended not to know. It was nice not to be reminded of why he was considered a hero and instead talked to like the normal man he was. Perhaps that was part of the reason why he began waking up to the hope that Angeal would visit the church.
On the days he ran deliveries, he left a note for Angeal on the crate. He never said what he was doing or where he went, but he wrote when he could be expected back. He wouldn’t admit aloud that the notes left in turn with the simple scrawl of ‘return safely’ warmed him.
Unfortunately the quick, mind reeling, flashes and headaches persisted. The more time he spent with Angeal, the worse it got. He was reminded sickeningly of when he’d been traipsing around with his false memories and something triggered a flash, a true memory. He pushed aside the feeling brutally whenever it happened. Whatever it meant, he didn’t want to know. For once he was going to live in the present, no matter what it may bring.
“Are you alright?” Angeal asked, breaking Cloud from his musings.
“Lost in thought.” There was a good amount of cloud cover, drenching everything in a gray hue that was slightly depressing after the rare bit of sun they’d gotten. Though the sun wasn’t beating hotly against their backs, Angeal and Cloud had climbed down to take a break. The roof was coming along nicely.
Don’t get too lost, wouldn’t want to have to send a search party after you.
Cloud chuckled, “Don’t worry, I don’t stray too far.” He glanced over at Angeal, expecting some sort of humored reaction. He snapped his jaw shut, quickly realizing that Angeal hadn’t said anything in the first place. Something was wrong with him.
Angeal watched as something within Cloud had happened and, all in an instant, he closed himself up. The tension in his shoulders returned and his eyes turned hard, shielded from the world. He reached out a hand and laid it gently on Cloud’s shoulder. “Cloud.”
Cloud jumped as if just reminded he was still there. “I’m sorry,” he murmured as he stood with the intention of leaving.
“Cloud,” Angeal tried again. “What are you running from?” Cloud paused with his back to Angeal, facing the buster sword. He didn’t have an answer for that. It occurred to him then that he didn’t have answers about quite a few things and, suddenly, it frustrated him. His flashes, his dreams, they occurred and drained him without proper reason or explanation.
“Why do you seek me out?” Cloud returned sharper than intended. Angeal had dropped the pretence of coming to pray after the first note. Angeal didn’t recoil or grow defensive; instead he stepped closer and rested his hands on Cloud’s forearms his large, calloused hands at the same time a foreign and familiar feeling. Already Cloud could feel the tension melt from his shoulders, irrational anger ebbing away. His mood swings were beginning to frustrate him.
“Because,” Angeal rumbled gently. “You’re intriguing and it isn’t everyday that I run across someone who lives in a church.” For an inexplicable reason Cloud felt his cheeks grow warm, though he chuckled gently to distract from it. He reached up a hand and let his fingers touch Angeal’s; softly, just barely, resting against his. He was warm, so very warm, and human. And how long had it been since he last felt content, safe, with someone else? Being around Angeal was different than his friends company and it startled him at how easily it had happened. Around Angeal things were skewed and yet achingly familiar. “Everything is okay Cloud; you don’t need to be so on edge.”
Cloud knew he should have suggested they get back to work or finish for the day. He should have made up an excuse about needing to run a delivery, never mind that Angeal didn’t know it’s what he did for a living. He should have been distancing himself from the man. He did none of these things, though. Instead, Cloud curled his fingers tighter, almost desperately and uttered a single word. “Stay?” Whatever this was supposed to be, Angeal was about to make it clear. “For the night?” Carefully, as if worried the smaller man would flee if he moved too suddenly, Angeal wrapped his arms around him.
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Parring: Angeal Hewley/Cloud Strife (Like it's even a surprise anymore xD ), other future slash
Timeline: Post Advent Children
Warnings: Follows the basic timeline, but takes liberties with Crisis Core
Summary: There are some memories lost to Cloud, but hopefully the shards could be recovered. Hopefully the pieces could be put back in place by a gentle, patient hand.
Disclaimer: Square Enix
Author Says: Revised. What was I thinking with that last chapter? My inner writer cringed and then proceeded to smack me upside the head with my own unfinished novel. This one flows better, I hope.
Cloud wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. He was repeating behavior he had once been guilty of when he had gotten Geostigma. Spending days at the church and leaving only to run deliveries, answering his phone minimally. Instead of an illness, however, the reason behind his actions was a person. Tifa least of all would be pleased to know this. But he felt like something important rested with Angeal and he wanted, no, he needed to find out what that was without the conflicting opinions of his friends.
It was getting easier to talk to Angeal. Their conversations flowed more naturally and less awkwardly, especially since his shoulders lost their tense set whenever Angeal was around. Though they did talk, it surprised Cloud at how little they managed to say about their own lives. Cloud didn’t know much about him aside from his name, though Angeal did let slip that he had been from a small town. And if Angeal knew Cloud was the one who defeated Sephiroth, he pretended not to know. It was nice not to be reminded of why he was considered a hero and instead talked to like the normal man he was. Perhaps that was part of the reason why he began waking up to the hope that Angeal would visit the church.
On the days he ran deliveries, he left a note for Angeal on the crate. He never said what he was doing or where he went, but he wrote when he could be expected back. He wouldn’t admit aloud that the notes left in turn with the simple scrawl of ‘return safely’ warmed him.
Unfortunately the quick, mind reeling, flashes and headaches persisted. The more time he spent with Angeal, the worse it got. He was reminded sickeningly of when he’d been traipsing around with his false memories and something triggered a flash, a true memory. He pushed aside the feeling brutally whenever it happened. Whatever it meant, he didn’t want to know. For once he was going to live in the present, no matter what it may bring.
“Are you alright?” Angeal asked, breaking Cloud from his musings.
“Lost in thought.” There was a good amount of cloud cover, drenching everything in a gray hue that was slightly depressing after the rare bit of sun they’d gotten. Though the sun wasn’t beating hotly against their backs, Angeal and Cloud had climbed down to take a break. The roof was coming along nicely.
Don’t get too lost, wouldn’t want to have to send a search party after you.
Cloud chuckled, “Don’t worry, I don’t stray too far.” He glanced over at Angeal, expecting some sort of humored reaction. He snapped his jaw shut, quickly realizing that Angeal hadn’t said anything in the first place. Something was wrong with him.
Angeal watched as something within Cloud had happened and, all in an instant, he closed himself up. The tension in his shoulders returned and his eyes turned hard, shielded from the world. He reached out a hand and laid it gently on Cloud’s shoulder. “Cloud.”
Cloud jumped as if just reminded he was still there. “I’m sorry,” he murmured as he stood with the intention of leaving.
“Cloud,” Angeal tried again. “What are you running from?” Cloud paused with his back to Angeal, facing the buster sword. He didn’t have an answer for that. It occurred to him then that he didn’t have answers about quite a few things and, suddenly, it frustrated him. His flashes, his dreams, they occurred and drained him without proper reason or explanation.
“Why do you seek me out?” Cloud returned sharper than intended. Angeal had dropped the pretence of coming to pray after the first note. Angeal didn’t recoil or grow defensive; instead he stepped closer and rested his hands on Cloud’s forearms his large, calloused hands at the same time a foreign and familiar feeling. Already Cloud could feel the tension melt from his shoulders, irrational anger ebbing away. His mood swings were beginning to frustrate him.
“Because,” Angeal rumbled gently. “You’re intriguing and it isn’t everyday that I run across someone who lives in a church.” For an inexplicable reason Cloud felt his cheeks grow warm, though he chuckled gently to distract from it. He reached up a hand and let his fingers touch Angeal’s; softly, just barely, resting against his. He was warm, so very warm, and human. And how long had it been since he last felt content, safe, with someone else? Being around Angeal was different than his friends company and it startled him at how easily it had happened. Around Angeal things were skewed and yet achingly familiar. “Everything is okay Cloud; you don’t need to be so on edge.”
Cloud knew he should have suggested they get back to work or finish for the day. He should have made up an excuse about needing to run a delivery, never mind that Angeal didn’t know it’s what he did for a living. He should have been distancing himself from the man. He did none of these things, though. Instead, Cloud curled his fingers tighter, almost desperately and uttered a single word. “Stay?” Whatever this was supposed to be, Angeal was about to make it clear. “For the night?” Carefully, as if worried the smaller man would flee if he moved too suddenly, Angeal wrapped his arms around him.