i'm fake at the seams. incomplete.
Who: KH!Leon and FF!Aerith
When: June 18, late evening. As in, the middle of the night.
Where: Lower level, their new home.
Rating: PG, probably.
Warnings: Leon has the emotional range of a rock rabbi.
Summary: Aerith moves in with Leon. And there is tension (of the good kind).
( by my side, you'll never be. )
When: June 18, late evening. As in, the middle of the night.
Where: Lower level, their new home.
Rating: PG, probably.
Warnings: Leon has the emotional range of a rock rabbi.
Summary: Aerith moves in with Leon. And there is tension (of the good kind).
( by my side, you'll never be. )
It felt strange to know that she was going to have a place to call home. Before, when she had been living with Vincent, she had called it Vincent's House. Now she actually had a home. And she was going to be sharing it with Leon. That fact was more than enough to put a bounce in her step as she hurried to the house.
She looked around as he hurried her through the main room, only catching sight of a stove over in the corner. She was going to comment on how nice it was for him to have a stove in the house, but then she saw her room. She saw how warm and welcoming it was. It was clean, and there were flowers. There was even a nice quilt on top of her bead, and candles too. It was all so inviting and wonderful, that she couldn't quite process the wave of gratitude she instantly felt.
"Leon..." She looked over at him as he stood in the doorway, wondering if he was in the mood to talk. He was lingering around, so she assumed that he didn't mind all that much.
"This is wonderful. Thank you so much for letting me stay here. It's beautiful in here." Her fingers tapped along the pattern in the quilt as she walked past the bed, in order to stand before him. Looking up at him, she tapped at her lips with a finger, before laughing softly. "I'm not sure I make enough to help pay for something this nice. How much were you charging for rent?"
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Leon shook his head in a negative, taking his hands and putting them up as if to stop here. “You don’t have to pay,” he said; his voice was low and smooth, though there were some signs of a lion’s roar lurking beneath the surface, as if he might bristle if provoked. “I don’t need money from you.”
He could not quite explain it; even though he had offered the room with the sole goal of making money, he could not take it from the flower girl in the room now, especially when her eyes were so obviously thankful. It nearly made him embarrassed with how expressive her eyes really were; Leon had always been astute, even though his grappling with emotions remained awkward, and he could easily decipher Aerith’s feelings with his own lackluster skills. There was something remarkably disarming about someone who was so easily read.
“And it’s nothing,” he added hurriedly. “I... just cleaned it up from when Cloud was here.” The nervousness in his voice remained well-hidden for the most part; Leon was thankful for the small gifts his stoicness often bestowed. He still stood in the doorway, unsure if he was supposed to leave or not, though his gut told him to stay-and even if he had become a man of thought and planning, Leon had been born with a penchant of following his intuition, no matter the circumstances.
“Are you... happy?” he asked, surprised at the hesitance of his question.
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"Am I?" She had to laugh, loud and bright, because it was a question she hadn't been expecting him to ask. "I'm very happy that you wanted me to come and live here, and even more happy now that I see how nice my room is. And-"
She looked down then, eyelashes fluttering as she tapped the toe of her boot against the floor. "I'm very glad to be so close to you. I've liked all the time I've gotten to spend with you when I came over to visit, so now it will be very nice to have you only a wall away." She peered up at him through her eyelashes, her ever present smile lighting up her face.
"I think I might be able to make you happy, too, being here. At least, I hope I can." Her hands clasped behind her back, and she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, the soles of her boots squeaking as she did so. "And maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to get you to smile." She leaned forward at the waist, tipping her head so she could grin up at him, as if showing off how he was supposed to be smiling.
She was glad that he had decided to linger in the doorway, delighted that they were getting to have this moment. She didn't want to come on like an emptyheaded teenage girl, but she couldn't help acting the way she was. He had asked if she was happy, and she was. He made her happy, and getting to have a home with him made her nearly ecstatic.
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But now there was something new to the list, and it had green eyes and a pretty smile. Leon nearly balked when she leaned forward, visibly steeling himself against the doorframe by putting an arm on the molding to hold himself still. His brow furrowed, though his mouth did not move; the only thing expressive about him were his eyebrows. But he was not good at saying how he felt, never had been, so instead of telling her the right thing (‘you make me happy too’ or ‘i’m glad you’re here’ or any other possibility), Leon frowned slightly as his concern with himself deepened.
What was he doing here, with someone like her? Had he missed the memo Thylas had passed around: that suddenly, men like Leon who couldn’t even save his home were now supposed to make pretty flower girls happy? He didn’t know if he could do it, and the idea of failure scared him-though not nearly as much as the idea of success did.
“You don’t have to make me happy or make me smile,” Leon said, his voice breaking in through the still night air with the lumbering grace of a walrus on land-which was to say he had had none at all. His gaze remained determinedly turned away from her at that point, focused on a corner as if wondering if he had missed a spot. Had he? His scrutinizing eyes were spotting flecks of dust, even here in the dim darkness only illuminated by the candles.
He felt as if maybe he should take a few steps forward to help alleviate the tension he surely felt rising, so he did, his boots making dull thuds on the wooden floor. Suddenly, he wished he had more to give her, a nicer home, and he felt confused by the feeling. A hand went behind his head, running through his brunette mane, lips frowning slightly.
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She remained standing, allowing him to have his space. But her eyes never left him, watching him closely, afraid he might try running into his room. She smiled as his hand found his hair, and her head tipped to the side once again. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" It was an innocent question, despite the fact that her eyes showed great amusement.
"And I want to make you happy, and see you smile. It'd make me happy to do those things. So you should just let me do them, okay?" The very tip of her tongue stuck out, as she contemplated sticking the entire thing out in a teasing gesture. But at the last second, she changed her mind, and instead licked at her lips as if they were terribly dry.
It was then that she decided to spin about, and go over to sit on the edge of her bed. Her eyes still remained focused on him, so he wouldn't think she wanted him to leave. She didn't, she wanted to talk to him until he grew tired of her. "Are you afraid to be happy, Leon?" The question was genuine, and she grasped on to the skirt of her dress, sliding the fabric in between her fingers.
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At least this way, he reasoned, he didn’t have to look at her truth-asking eyes and she didn’t have to feel he wanted to leave. It was difficult to rip down walls he had spent precious time building, especially to someone who he had just met (though it felt like he had known her for years).
Even if she couldn’t see him, his frown deepened; he stared at his folded hands in his laps. He sat with his legs apart, like a man, feet firmly grounded onto the floor as if the very gravity of his person was holding him down. And maybe it was-after all, there was always some form of hesitation in what Leon did these days, trained by those days with the Heartless waiting in the shadows.
“Maybe,” he admitted. After all, once you were happy, then there would be no reason for the walls or anything. And then there was the reason for all the happiness, which meant leaving him even more vulnerable and exposed than anything he would want. Even if he was more open and more social than his counterpart here, it wasn’t by too much-and there was a streak of bitterness that failure had left on him that his doppelganger didn’t have.
“Just because I’m not smiling doesn’t mean I’m not happy.” The words were mumbled half-heartedly, and he turned his head a little to look at her, to gauge a reaction. “It’s been... it takes time.”
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Turning to face him, her fingertips drew patterns across the quilts, and she stared down at her hands instead of at him. For some reason, having him sit on her bed was much more personal and close than having him in her doorway, and she didn't want to look at him for the sole reason that she was beginning to blush. "I know it takes time, Leon. But I just wanted to let you know that it's okay to be happy. You shouldn't be afraid of it. It can make you feel like you're out of control, and like nothing is making any sense, but at the same time its one of the best feelings in the entire world."
She looked up at him then, and she could see him attempting to sort things out, attempting to figure out what to say. "I don't want to push you into being happy, its just something I want for you. In time. Even if I can't give it to you." She explained, her fingers crawling across the blanket in order to rest ontop of his.
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After all, the Aerith back home was something like a best friend and a sister. It was a relationship cultivated by hardships and growing up together, and he had always been her protector. And then there was Yuffie, who, despite sneaking into his room late at night and trying to scare the very life out of him, was like another sister. With Cid, it was a completely odd family.
With this Aerith, he thought darkly, it was nothing like being with a sister.
“I’ll try,” he said finally. His eyes darted to his hand once her fingers finally reached his, and he narrowed his gaze. His hand overturned, and despite himself, he interlaced their fingers to give her hand a squeeze before standing up abruptly. He had said it would take time, after all, and he was still relatively unsure of what exactly this whole arrangement meant in the long run. He didn’t even know-if there was still a chance he could find his Rinoa-
Suddenly, the letter in his pocket felt like it was burning into his skin.
His hand reached to pull it out, and as if forgetting Aerith was there, he turned it over in his hand, looking at the wings on the back.
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Which is why she leaned over to get a look at what he was holding in his hands, and when she couldn't see it, hopped up to her feet as well. Coming up behind him, she leaned over and attempted to examine it that way. "What is that?" She questioned softly, cautiously.
He seemed to almost be lost in whatever it was, off in his own little world. Had she said something? "Did I say something to upset you? If I did, I didn't mean to, Leon." Frowning, she stepped out from behind him to stand at his side, and peered up at him curiously. Her green eyes were wide and nearly pleading, begging for him to say something, anything.
"Is everything okay?" Her hand touched his wrist gently, with a feather light touch.
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He frowned deeply at the letter. Even rereading it hundreds of times clarified nothing; the memory of her handwriting had become deeply etched in his mind, the particular loop of her p’s and y’s, the even pressure and the way the sentences tended to run upwards towards the right corner. ‘Dear Squall,’ it began, and he didn’t even use the name anymore-what was Rinoa but a fading dream of the past?, and he had never known himself to be as sentimental as this.
If he had been strong enough to protect her.
If he hadn’t let the world end.
If he could find her now.
Dear Squall,
Do you remember our promise?
Aerith’s touch brought him hurtling straight back to Purgatorium, rather than hanging in the rafters of old memories. Almost immediately, he brought back his hand as if burned, taking the letter and shoving it into his pocket once again. No use dwelling on the past, after all, and the letter was a private thing. His expression seemed to darken considerably; and again, up went the carefully-crafted walls he had spent so many years building up.
“No, it’s nothing,” he said abruptly, turning away from her. “You didn’t say anything. I...”
What was there more to say, after all? Hadn’t he said enough? He had told her he wanted her to live here with him; at least this way he could be positive she was safe at all times, and that she wasn’t off doing who-knows-what. He couldn’t quite explain the need to protect Aerith, not even to himself; Leon had never been particularly caring, but he felt like there was something to be said for the way Aerith was changing him. Leon could not tell if he liked it, if it was for the better that these walls were slowly crumbling, but the combined forces of the three primary women in his life at this very moment (Aerith, Kairi, and Shiki) seemed to be melting whatever was left of the iceberg.
He had never been very good with his feelings.
“It’s getting late,” he said finally, “and I have work in the morning.”
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"It is late, I bet. I shouldn't have taken so long in getting here. Um-" Shifting, she wrung her hands into the fabric of her dress, before reaching behind her to idly twiddle with her long braid. "Leon?"
Stepping off to the side, she tipped her head to look up at him, and held out a hand. "Before you go, I just wanted to say something." Standing directly before him, most likely entirely too close for his own comfort, she offered him a bright smile. "I want to thank you, for all of this. I know you went out of your way to make things here nice, and you didn't have to. But you did, and that says a lot, and I'm just really greatful. Very grateful, actually. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you and-"
She cut herself off there, as she realized she was just rambling. Whether it was from nerves or her wanting him to linger just a few moments longer, she wasn't sure. It was probably a combination of the two. "Nevermind. Just...thank you. So much." And with that, she was standing on the tip of her boots, so that she could place a kiss to the edge of his mouth. Soft and gentle, and not lingering. Safe and sweet.
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The first thought in Leon’s mind wasn’t quite human, but the first clear thought was something along the lines of: Aerith kissed me. He didn’t pull away, but when she did, it was clear he was surprised. It was obvious in his expression: the way his eyes were a tad widened, the raised eyebrows, the slightly parted lips, and the most-obvious sign of all, the pale flush spreading across his face. It was almost a bit ridiculous to see a battle-hardened warrior (one with a scar across his face as a testament to his experiences) to blush so easily at something as simple as a peck.
But it had been too long since anything even resembling this had happened (Leon didn’t count the handful of times Yuffie had ambushed him on New Year’s Eve, or even in Twilight Town when she said her ankle was hurt and he bent over to help her, or any other handful of the myriad of experiences-after all, that was just a younger girl idolizing him; Aerith was his age, and she had said it herself: they just might have a happy ending together, if he let them), and the emotions swimming inside Leon’s head were as disorganized as a school of fish, bumping chaotically around so he couldn’t sift through any of them and distinguish anything.
“... rith,” he finished a tad dumbly.
Honestly, what could he say now? He was staring down at Aerith like she had three heads, rather glad for his height on her because it meant there was more distance, despite the close proximity of their bodies. Somewhere along the lines he had automatically reached to put a hand on her arm, and it dropped suddenly in his embarrassment, stuck firmly into his pockets. He felt like a little boy, or even an awkward teenager stuck in high school again; maybe he hadn’t grown out of that phase after all.
“You don’t need to repay me.” He hated how his phrases came out disjointed, because he kept hesitating and pausing. Was he supposed to leave now? What was he supposed to do in a situation like this? After all, Aerith was between him and his sanctuary, which was the door and the hall and the way to his bedroom, where perhaps he could be alone and mull things over.
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No, it wasn't like that to her, not at all. And she would have been lying if she had said that his initial reaction had hurt her, made her think she was doing something terribly wrong. But upon seeing color rise in his cheeks, she figured she had simply embarrassed him, and was currently hoping it was just that. But the way he was looking at her, as if she were some sort of chocobo-moogle inbred in a circus. It made her shift this way and that, until she was once again toying with the pink bow that sat atop her braid.
"And if you ever want to touch my arm again, you don't have to move your hand away so fast. I don't mind, and I don't think I have any flesh eating diseases." Laughing, she raised her arms and made a show of examining them, even dipping her head to look at the underside of her arm. "No, I think I'm just fine." Giggling in amusement, she brought both hands up to cover her mouth, as she stepped out of his way.
She lingered in the corner of the doorway, one hand holding onto the frame. There was plenty of room for him to move past her and leave now, and get to precious solitude. She felt a bit guilty for keeping him up when he had to work, but he really was making it to enjoyable to do so.
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It was funny, but he almost felt like he didn’t want to. Regardless, he took the necessary steps forward, past Aerith, before he turned around and lifted a heavy hand. Much like a brother might, he moved his hand to her hair and ruffled it, and... smiled briefly.
“Good night, Aerith,” he said finally, and then he withdrew his arm; without so much as an additional glance, he turned on his heel again and left her room, back to the quiet and comfortable sanctity of his room next door.
Almost immediately he flopped onto his bed, eyes screwed shut. He had the feeling that life was going to become much more difficult than it had been prior, but there was the odd sensation of welcoming the challenge. He groaned: Leon had never been one to enjoy the complications in his life, no matter how orthodox or unorthodox it was; harder was always harder, and his goal was just to make it through to the next day.
But, he thought to himself, at least there was Aerith. At least.
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Their conversation played through her mind a few times, before she gave out a sigh and fell back onto the mattress. She didn't pull up the quilt and climb under it, and just curled up ontop of the blankets and thought of all of the wonderful things she was going to get to do in her new home. All of the meals she could cook, all of the memories she could make. It was almost too exciting, the prospect of an actual life in Purgatorium, that she thought she wasn't going to be able to sleep.
But it was only a matter of minutes before the Cetra was asleep, curled up in a tight ball, a smile still present on her face. Things were going to be good, she knew that deep down. It was easy to sleep easy, having such high hopes.
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