Characters: Aerith Gainsborough (
thishealingwind) and Zack Fair (
1st_class_honor)
Location: Death Robbins
Rating: PG?
Time: Early Afternoon - Oct 5th, 2009 (backdated)
Description: Ice Cream Date! (lol will update if needed)
(
...when I'm around you, I'm predictable. )
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"I haven't! Have you been practicing~?" She giggled, looking up at him through long eyelashes. "And it wouldn't be home without flowers, but I've got those covered. There's a garden already in full bloom behind my apartment building. I was busy when I was here last."
Aerith gave him a playful wink. "Oh, just for handful of years," she teased, leaning forward towards him a bit. "Though I'm glad you didn't make me wait those few extra minutes. Those would have been unbearableZack had been here a bit longer, but it seemed as if he'd adjusted fine. No doubt, given at least a couple more days, she would get the hang of it all. "I'm a little wary of this whole 'transforming into a weapon' thing, but I suppose there's no rush there ( ... )
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What a pair they were, trying so hard not to let themselves get away with too much, too soon. And Zack, well, he wasn’t even aware of her own self-control; he was too busy trying to get his own in check. He might’ve been surprised to know she was doing the same.
“Well, of course! You know, I had to keep up on them to wow my favorite girl when I saw her again.” Not if, but when. He had never given up hope, never would. It wasn’t in his nature. “Soooo, need me to build you another cart? I’d give you lessons and show you how to yourself, but then you wouldn’t need me around anymore, right?” Two can do this playful wink thing.
…Well, at least, until she said that. One hand grabbed at his heart, clutching it in a melodramatic display of agony. “Ouuuch, Aerith! You’ve got claws!” He moved his hand from his chest to loop loosely around her shoulders, smooth and cautious, as if testing the waters all over again. Which, in truth, is exactly what he was doing ( ... )
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Okay, so maybe Zack’s still got it. A little, anyway. Cheesy, sure, but sweet.
And Zack had to admit, even he had fun with the carts. Sure, the first couple weren’t that great (but damn, that metal one had looked cool!), but for that entire experience, it wasn’t the ending as much as the journey. He wondered if the last the he’d made stuck with her for awhile; he distinctly remembered reading an email from Kunsel about one of the wheels falling off. Had she ever gotten it fixed? “We’ll make one where the tires don’t drop off.” See? He did know some things, Miss Aerith, even if he wasn’t there to see it himself. “And I like the sound of that ( ... )
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Back home, the SOLDIER’s thoughts, when not swirling about the mission, usually swirled around Aerith. Sure, he flirted. Sure, he got into trouble with his friends. Sure, there were days when he woke up so hungover he couldn’t see straight. But in the end, it had always come back to her, being around her, being immersed in the peace she brought him. The only other people who had such a strong effect on him were Angeal and Cloud, people who calmed the proverbial waters just by being close. Wasn’t he fortunate, lucky, to be surrounded by so many amazing folks? “Kunsel emailed me and told me.” Then he blinked, and flushed. “Not that I was being a creep and sending people to spy on you or anything! I’m not like that!” Like a Turk. “And we will! We’ll make a big sign for the side, paint it up really nice, everything ( ... )
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Happy topics were much preferred; the rest, the heavy weight of tragedies past, could come when things were comfortable, when they weren’t so new, when he didn’t feel like he was drowning in her smile. There was a lot to tell (the things with Sephiroth, the tubes with Hojo, the escape, the short-lived freedom), but she had her own tales. Sure, he had already heard it from Cloud, but she probably had things she wanted to add, things she wanted to get off her own chest, and he wanted to hear every syllable. He wanted to hear it all, straight from her lips.
“Kunsel is a good guy.” Is. Is, not was. He didn’t know what happened to him, but he was sure as hell still alive ( ... )
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The Cetra chuckled at the image he called up in her mind. "I suppose I can do that, if it'll help set the mood for your grand entrance," she said. "Just make sure you don't wear one of those helmets. It'll ruin your hair."
Aerith settled gratefully into the chair he pulled out for her (such a gentleman), and she leaned forward against the table to peer at the strange ice cream. At his words, her eyes lifted to his, and she shook her head a bit. "Nope! We have to try it at the same time!"
The flowergirl took up her spoon, scooping up a bit of the dangerous flavor before waiting for him to do the same. "On the count of 3, okay? 1....2....3!"
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