[COMPLETE]

[crepusculine]

Who: Vincent and Naminé
When: A few hours before dark.
Where: Clock tower.
Rating: G-PG.
Warnings: N/A.
Summary: Naminé meets up with Vincent to see if she can do something about his nightmares.

Comments

[foreswear]

The little patch of forest that Vincent had so conveniently lost himself in days after his arrival was starting to get the best of him. He hadn't really understood the exact reason why he had decided to descend within its incredibly murky depths a mere 48 hours earlier; he had seen some potential, perhaps, and figured it was the safest place to be without a weapon on hand.

And just where was that damn gun of his, anyway? That should have been his main concern, and yet she--the girl with the soft face and kind words--she had distracted him from his search momentarily. Of course, her promises regarding his nightmares had been a tempting offer he found himself unable to resist. That hadn't been the only reason he had agreed to meet with her, however.

What had been the other reason? Well. He didn't know. Not really. Maybe a little bit, but...

There was something about her that was so familiar.

Sighing softly, he moved carefully - and silently - from his refuge of trees and underbrush and leaves. It was a lot darker in the small forest than it was out in the open, but he found the shelter from the light to be comforting and somewhat relaxing. It took him all but five minutes before he finally stumbled, tripping briefly over a tree root sticking from the ground, out of the mess of green and rough, patchy brown and onto soft dirt. The clock tower wasn't far now; he only hoped that he hadn't kept her waiting for very long. That, needless to say, wouldn't have been the gentlemanly thing to do.

Then again, how long had it been since he considered himself a gentleman? Years and years. Decades.

He spotted her, finally, as he rounded the corner of a crumbling stone building. She looked odd, out of place, against a backdrop of hazy black with her fair skin, blonde hair, and it almost pained him that he had asked her to come down to such a dark and dreary place. Thoughtful red eyes scanned her position, the way her arms were curled tightly around her body. Was she cold?

"... Naminé?" He kept his voice soft, unthreatening, as he spoke, well aware of how alarming his appearance could be at first glance.

[crepusculine]

It was indeed cold outside, and the air smelled of rain, and the fact that her dress was sleeveless and short wasn't helping her keep warm at all.

But hey, that was Purgatorium, and she was used to the weather.

His voice snapped her easily out of her self-induced little trance, and she lifted her bright blue eyes to look at him. His appearance didn't alarm her at all, judging by her reaction, which was to smile at him warmly as she uncurled and began to get to her feet.

"Vincent," she replied lightly, dusting off the back of her dress and taking a few steps closer. "It's nice to meet you."

[foreswear]

She was just as he expected her to be: warm, compassionate, and totally unaffected by the wall of sheer cold that seemed to curve around him sometimes. His mouth turned up slightly at the corner as he regarded her from a distance, tilting his chin in a small nod.

"It's nice to meet you, as well."

He turned his gaze up toward the cloudy sky for a couple seconds, frowning. It would start raining again. Soon. Having her get caught up in a storm wasn't something he looked too highly upon - nor was taking up all of her time - so he figured it would be best if he hurried.

"Shall I lead you to the building, then?" he asked after refocusing his attention on her.

[crepusculine]

Naminé moved quietly to his side, hands folded neatly in front of her. He was so tall that she had to look way up at him, but then again, she was used to being the shortest person she knew and had to look up at everyone.

"Yes, please." While she didn't mind how long this took (and, really, it would only take a minute or two once Vincent was settled and ready to sleep), she did have to return to the upper level within a few hours.

[foreswear]

Vincent walked carefully in step next to her, eyes roaming the dark streets in front of him as his hearing piqued slightly at any noises that could have hinted to possible danger. He wasn't about to lead her into pits of uncontrollable demons - or animals, whatever this world had handy - no, definitely not. He highly doubted he would be able to forgive himself so easily if any harm came to the person (or to anyone, really) that was only trying to help him. His limbs moved stiffly, defensively, and every now and then, he'd cast a small look over his shoulder. With or without a weapon, he was perfectly capable of fighting should it come down to that.

It took a little longer to reach the small house than he had expected. It wasn't, by any means, lovely or even a little bit attractive. Then again, not much was attractive about any part of the place he currently resided in. The white paint on the rough cement walls of the outside had chipped away long ago, and the soft roof sagged beneath the heavy weight of time. Pale fingers wrapped around the brass knob of the door, and he settled his shoulder against the middle of the wood, pushing hard as he twisted the handle. The door gave way under the added pressure, and he stepped inside a semi-dark room.

After taking a moment to let his eyes adjust, he nodded to a large sofa in the corner of the room. That would do, he figured, for tonight.

"There," he said softly as he nodded, unclasping his cloak and pulling it from his shoulders. "I'll sleep there."

[crepusculine]

Naminé was too used to living in the lower level to think anything of it. Her eyes scanned the area, taking everything in out of habit, and she trailed inside after him without so much as a look back.

When he spoke, her eyes settled on the couch and she nodded. Good a place as any; it would help if he were comfortable. Naminé moved over to the couch and took a seat at the end. "Do you have any questions first, before I do this?" she asked, gesturing to the empty space of couch beside her.

[foreswear]

After laying the remains of his ragged cloak over the surface of the couch, he settled down into it, head resting slowly against the other end. He eyed her curiously from where he lay, contemplative. Did he have questions? Well, yes. He had several. But he wasn't going to bother her with them, by any means.

"No, it's all right." He offered her the best smile he could muster - which was nothing more than a small quirk of his mouth, really. "Continue."

[crepusculine]

Naminé nodded a bit. She could have explained he process to him, really, but if he wasn't going to ask, then she wouldn't bother. She did, however, reach out to touch a hand to one of his; physical touch made this much easier when it was a person she didn't know well.

"You'll sleep very deeply, so hopefully you'll feel more rested come morning," she told him. "I'll stay as long as I can with you, and I'll be here when you wake in the morning." Because he wouldn't wake up, not until she came back to undo what she was about to do. But again, no need to tell him that, either, right?

She closed her eyes, then, mustering up the concentration she needed. It was a simple process involving nothing more than severing the memory chains from Vincent's heart. Come morning, she would be there to redo them again. And unless Vincent had anything further to say, she'd put him right to sleep.

[foreswear]

Settling back against the couch, he tried not to jerk away when he felt her touch against his hand. He wasn't entirely accustomed to being touched (or, rather, he didn't let many people touch him), so the gesture surprised him a little. Regardless, his expression remained rather indifferent, and he tilted his head back, quiet.

It was hard to imagine sleep without nightmares. For Vincent, the two came hand-in-hand, packaged together as a pair; picturing one without the other was nearly impossible. Still, she seemed like she knew what she was doing (even though Vincent really had no idea), and he wasn't about to stop her from trying. Though he didn't know her very well at all, it was really easy to put his trust in her. From what he could tell, she was thoughtful and kind-hearted, and the general aura of warmness that surrounded her was oddly comforting.

His brows knit together when his eyes slid shut, palm resting lightly over his midsection. The worst part of sleep was the thoughts he had before actually drifting off. Sometimes, they were worse than the nightmares.

[crepusculine]

There was a soft, absent hum in her throat as she worked her magic (for lack of a better word), and chances were that hum and a soft, Sleep well were the last things Vincent would hear for several long hours. He would have no nightmares, nor even pleasant dreams. The sleep she had him in was purely for resting purposes, to let his body recuperate and his mind to be at ease. And he would be asleep so quickly that, Naminé figured, he'd not have any time to dwell on things before hand.

Once he was asleep, she opened her eyes and looked at him. He looked a little more peaceful when sleeping, she noted. And when she stood a good twenty minutes later, she reached out to touch a finger to his face and gently smoothed smoothed out his frown with a smile.

"I'll see you in the morning," she told him, knowing well he couldn't hear her, but...

And with that, she quietly departed, locking the door behind herself and leaving Vincent to sleep.

((ooc: Want to skip to morning, or...~?))

[foreswear]

(ooc: sure~ ♥ and sorry it took me so long to reply before :| ugh, i get so distracted sometimes.)

[crepusculine]

((ooc: It's okay~!))

Naminé returned just as she said she would. It wasn't even an hour past dawn (not that one could tell in the lower level) when she returned to the small home she'd left Vincent, complete with basket of food in hand.

She opened up the door, slid inside and took a moment to allow her bright eyes to adjust to the dark. They settled on Vincent's sleeping form, and after she'd determined that nothing else was lurking there in the dark, she made her way over to him, kneeling on the floor beside the couch.

The act of waking a person up was a little more difficult than putting them to sleep. But, hey, nothing could be as difficult as the year she'd spent piecing together Sora's shattered memories, and so the five minutes it took to relink Vincent's memories to his heart was nothing at all.

That done, Naminé just peered down into his face expectantly, waiting for him to wake.

[foreswear]

When Vincent woke, he could have sworn that he hadn't been asleep at all. He remembered closing his eyes, yes. And he remembered her soft and quiet humming, the way his mind latched onto it as his body sunk down into the soft cushion of the couch. But he thought it had only been a moment, a couple of seconds, until he opened his eyes again. The fact that the room was slightly lighter than it had been before told him otherwise, however.

He stared up at her, a little confused, for a minute, before eventually pushing his hands down on either side of his body as he struggled to sit up.

"I..." He paused, brushing dark hair from his eyes. "So... I actually slept, then?"

He could have only imagined how ridiculous he must have sounded. Well, of course he slept. But still, it was odd - and unusual - for him to sleep through an entire night without waking or being disturbed at least once.

[crepusculine]

Naminé leaned back a bit in order to give him some room. No need for her to crowd him, after all. "You slept, yes." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "About twelve hours, in fact." Somewhere thereabouts.

She folded her hands in her lap, offering him a small smile and a tilt of her head. "How are you feeling? I brought food, if you're hungry."

[foreswear]

So he had slept, after all. And for 12 hours? That was mildly intriguing. There was no doubt that she definitely knew what she had been doing.

He straightened a little in his spot, allowing dark eyes to refocus on her face as he pinpointed his sole attention to her. She was a lot more ethereal in appearance in the light, he noted. Or the demi-light, anyway. He hadn't seen in the dark just how blonde her hair was, or how pale her skin was. And she was smiling. Again.

She was so kind for a stranger. It was a little endearing.

"I'm all right, thank you," he said softly, fingers moving down to pull his red cloak from beneath him. "I really appreciate this, by the way. Whatever it was that you did, it worked amazingly."

[crepusculine]

"As long as you're feeling better." She turned slightly to pick up the basket and hold it out to him, hoping he'd eat something regardless of if he was feeling all right or not. He needed to eat! And she'd brought an assortment of fruits, a bit of bread, and even a hardboiled egg and some cookies (that she'd made; better to not touch those, perhaps).

Truthfully, she was relieved to see he was grateful and felt better. Naminé was feeling guilty that she'd be unable to do it again... Medea was already angry with her for the first time, and even if Naminé didn't agree with her reasoning and thought what she was doing was perfectly fine, well... telling that to the Gods was a good way to get her abilities stripped completely.