Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Moonlit Mile ❯ All Blues ( Chapter 2 )

"Fish or cut bait, Aeris..." and she whispered the thought to the deep silence that enveloped the house.

Casting her reel, Aeris stepped away from the wall and into the light that flooded the entrance to his bedroom proper. Her body blocked out the light and cast a long shadow behind her. It wasn't terribly well lighted in the room but still she needed a few seconds for her eyes to adjust. The room came into focus, and she took it in with a look of wonder. This room had always been impressively large. When she was younger, she'd put on one of her mother's evening gowns and sneak up here to pretend she was the heroine in one of those old, romantic musicals. She'd dance around the room with her imaginary partner, imagining herself as someone more glamorous and beautiful. He'd always chide her when she thought like that.

Aeris shook her head, stepping further into the room. To her immediate left was an old, overstuffed chair with books scattered around it in uneven piles. On the right was a bed on a futon frame and beside it sat a small table with nothing but a clock sitting on it. The room was dimly lit, but she could see the faded outlines of a few bookcases and a dresser that stood farther back into the room. In the middle of the room, a few feet from the decrepit chair was an easel and a rolling supply cart. Sitting in front of that easel was Sephiroth. He was perched on a worn old stool that looked to be two steps from collapsing. His legs were crossed Indian style, and Aeris could just imagine him as some wise old guru. She bit her lip to keep herself from laughing.

In his left hand he held a wooden palate, which was smeared with paint, old and new. His other hand was busy, furiously tamping paint onto a large canvas. The brush flickered between the canvas, the palate and a jar of turpentine--which he kept on top of the rolling cart, along with a few tubes of paint. She watched, transfixed by him as she'd always been. His movements were always so practiced and graceful, even when he was doing simple things. It was ridiculous, but she'd always had it in her head that he never stumbled in his life. She knew better than that but somehow....her heartbeat slowed so much that each time it pounded, she could hear it in her ears. The butterflies came but she paid no heed, content to simply stand and soak in everything about him.

His hair was longer now, falling in long tendrils, the ends lightly pooling on the floor behind him. It shimmered in the light as he moved. It had reached down past his waist last year. She remembered. It had to be almost knee length now. She pushed down the desire to dive over there and run her hands through it. Would it be as soft as she remembered?

In a dreamlike trance, she picked her way around the books and sat in the overstuffed chair to watch him. She'd always sneak up like this, sitting behind him and waiting for him to notice her. His head turned and she noticed the headphones that covered his ears and the long cord that ran to a small CD player on the floor next to him. She could just barely hear the sound of the music he was listening to. The soft melody of an old jazz song lilted from his direction and she smiled, he really hadn't changed much at all.

He always seemed to be searching for serenity and never seemed to find it. A restless spirit, that's the way she often thought of him. Would he ever rest? He stopped painting, his head tilting a bit as he regarded his work, sticking his paintbrush between his toes as he continued to quietly stare. She almost laughed out loud. It was an old habit of his that she'd found humorous, the way he'd play with things with his feet. She once asked him why. He told her that he wanted to build dexterity in his feet just in case he lost both his arms. And with the most serious look on his face when he said it. She laughed until she cried and her stomach hurt. He'd pretended offense, but she could see the sparkle in his eyes and she knew he wasn't really angry. Just teasing her. She always loved those moments, when he'd let down all his walls and give her a peek of the real person behind the facade. It was like seeing a rare bird; all you could do is admire the colors as it flew by. Until it was nothing more than a tiny pinprick in the heavens.

He leaned forward, hunched over in concentration. Gods, it was just like old times and so easy to get lost in the moment. He cracked his neck and leaned back again. Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed. That was the sign of dissatisfaction, she could always tell. Something was missing but he wasn't annoyed enough with it to stop, in fact it was just the opposite. He was annoyed enough to continue working on it until it was perfect. This was a temporary stop in work, to reevaluate his options. She'd seen it before.

Aeris watched him, head in hand, completely absorbed in watching him and forgetting why she came here in the first place. He clasped his hands behind his head and just sat there, finally pulling off his headphones and resting them around his neck. Another dissatisfied sigh came, followed by a low grunt. He'd come to a decision then. Pulling off his headphones, he turned and reached down to switch off the CD player. He glanced in her direction once, doing a double take before fixing his gaze on her. Caught in the act...She immediately sat up straight, picking at her pajama bottoms as he scrutinized her. His eyes narrowed, the emotion in them going from surprised shock to cold fury within seconds. Jabbing at the button, he switched off the player and turned his back on her.

His movements were sharp and angry yet still eerily graceful. Grabbing at the brush still in between his toes, he transferred it to the jar of turpentine. Stirring the brush into the amber fluid, clanking it against the sides in hurried motion. He pulled it out and shook it once, snatching a paint-stained towel to wipe it off. When satisfied it was clean, he shoved it back into its holder, which was near the jar of turpentine. With the same towel, he wiped off his hands, every movement, no matter how slight, betrayed his anger. After a few short swipes, he was done with it and threw the towel on the floor with disgust.

"What are you doing here?" he said, with not a trace of emotion. Each word annunciated with frigid precision.

"I...W-We...we have to talk...."

"Get out."

"N-no."

She could hear him grumble under his breath before he stood. When they were kids, he always got teased because he was small for his age. Right up until a year and a half ago, he was still short at only around five foot seven. He'd gone through some kind of growth spurt and had shot up a full five inches. She'd noticed it before but it hadn't been as apparent or as menacing as it was now. He was a six-foot monolith. Towering above her like a skyscraper. She'd never really noticed how short she was. Her doctor had mentioned that girls stop growing taller at around age seventeen or eighteen. She had probably reached her full height by now, which was a pathetically tiny five foot four and a half, miniscule in comparison with him.

She stood up as well, not willing to sit there and continue to feel small. Even though it didn't do much good. He turned on his heel slowly, all for effect. Intimidation was easy for him, even back when he was just a wiry, little kid. There was something about him that radiated danger. Maybe it was in his eyes. They were narrowed and glowing a bright, furious green. When his eyes turned like that it reminded her of foxfire, the supernatural flames that supposedly marked the graves of the un-mourned dead. The flames of the dead...her mother had called them pyreflies. She'd read stories about those flames. How they'd entice people deep into the forest never to been seen again. When his eyes were like that, it seemed to her that they lured souls to an empty death, just as the pyreflies did, though he'd never laid a finger on anyone his whole life...that she knew of anyway.

Most people felt it and acknowledged it, leaving him alone. Never masking their fear of him and openly walking on the other side of the hall. Some wouldn't even be that polite; they'd see him coming and nearly run in the opposite direction, like he was some kind of homicidal maniac, all because of his gruff attitude and his odd appearance.

She'd never felt like that. In his presence, she'd always felt safe. Not now. As cold as any stone...Unconsciously, she addressed this thought, wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing them to generate warmth. She'd only ever seen him give that look to others. Never having it turned on her, she was uncertain as to what to do. She didn't want to run away, as everyone else did...but that look struck something inside her. Made her feel lost and afraid. She felt like she'd shrunk several inches in a few minutes and he'd grown taller, standing above her like a primordial god over a heretic unbeliever.

Not for the first time, she wondered what the hell she was doing here. Her cheeks lit up like a lantern, glowing a bright red. She felt so stupid, being caught like that...for even thinking that she'd be able to do this. Aeris looked down at her feet, feeling the tears gather at the edge of her lids. So close to spilling that she closed her eyes in a vain attempt to stave them off. You have to try...she told herself this. Repeated it, this was her desperate mantra. This was her last chance, she could feel it and if she failed now...She inhaled deeply, pushing away the tears, her negative thoughts and the black emotions that were no help to her now.

Sephiroth watched this little display with a coolly disaffected glare. When she looked up at him, through her bangs, she saw this. His arms crossed, one over the other, the expression on his face was blank and detached, barely disguising his contempt for her. For god knows how long they stayed like this. Staring at each other in uncomfortable silence, until he broke it.

"I said...get out."

Those words were said with such soft yet obvious menace that it froze the blood. Giving her the impression that it'd matter little to him if she left on her own or with his "encouragement". She didn't care if he had to drag her from the room. Let him hurt her, grab her by the hair and throw her out. She'd come back. She'd do what she had to or die trying and if he was the one to kill her...so be it. But she'd try. She wouldn't be afraid of him. Not like everyone else. She'd show him she was different.

"No."

"Get...out..."

She clenched her fists to mask her fear, "Make me." she said, without wavering, her head held high and with a spark of impudent defiance. She met his gaze evenly, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

His eye twitched but he remained where he was. She'd called his bluff and won the first round but she didn't let it show. Crossing her arms, she prepared for a very long contest of wills. For the first time, she noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt...only a pair of pajama bottoms. She couldn't help but stare at his bare chest. This wasn't the first time she'd seen him without a shirt. Well, to be technical. She hadn't seen him recently. Not since he'd been practicing his swordsmanship. He was still wiry, but more towards the well built side of wiry. Having the physique of a fighter now, not that of a lanky teenage boy. Suddenly the idea of him making her do anything sounded like a good idea...suddenly she kind of wanted him to try and she mentally slapped herself. He gave her a scowl and stalked into the deep back of the room. She could hear him opening a drawer and shortly after that the soft rustle of fabric as he picked out a shirt. He'd noticed her staring at him and she flushed furiously.

To get her mind off things and to calm herself, she wandered over to his abandoned easel to look at what he'd been painting. It was a portrait of a young girl, perhaps no older than she was. The girl in the painting had a gentle and mysterious smile. She noticed a small piece of paper tacked above the easel. It was common for younger artists to emulate a more experienced artist's style. The way this was most usually done was to copy one of their greater works, adding your own touches in an attempt to find your style.

She knew this painting. It was by Relm Arrowny, a painter native to Mideel but regarded worldwide as a revolutionary artist. The painting was rumored to be an early self-portrait, before she had done any world traveling. This painting was called La Vie en Rose. Life...in pink. That's what it meant literally. To view the world through rose tinted glasses. Arrowny herself often commented that her earlier paintings were more innocent, and without any particular meaning attached to them. This self-portrait was characteristic of that point in her life. It was light and bubbly, the strokes were loose and carefree.

There wasn't much difference from his painting to the original. But for one small detail. The eyes. The girl in the original painting had light bluish gray eyes, but in his...they looked more green than blue. Green...like mine...like his...Aeris frowned, looking between the two pictures to confirm the difference. Everything was the same. Both smiled back at her with their sandy brown hair pinned behind their heads by light pink ribbons and flowers. With the very same ornate dress...that secretly she had always wanted a copy of to wear for herself. Even the small view of the garden behind her was the same. The only subtle difference was in her eyes. Aeris froze, only finding strength enough to lift her hand to the canvas. Irrationally, she wanted to touch them...to examine the paint to expunge any doubt.

His hand clamped around her wrist painfully, he wrenched it back until it was in no danger of touching the canvas before letting it go. She pulled her hand away and rubbed her wrist, which was now slightly reddened and just a bit sore.

"Don't touch it...it's still wet."

He wasn't even looking at her when he said it. Keeping his eyes some point far to the left of her. Again, in his presence she felt so small and vulnerable. For the very first time, she was actually afraid of him.

"S-sorry." She stammered, turning to look at the painting, "You moved away from realism I see...."

In response, he grunted, moving away from her to sit on the overstuffed chair.

"I thought you hated the Impressionists.... "

"People change." he replied, snagging a book from one pile and paging through it absently.

"I suppose so." she paused and looking between him and the painting, "It's very good. I think this style suits you more."

"That so..." he stated flatly without looking up from his book.

"I remember we had an argument about Impressionism once. You said you couldn't respect any artist who just gooched blobs of paint on a canvas and then call it art. I believe your exact words were...They are messy and unskilled..."

"Yup. Sure did."

She looked over at him, his legs hanging off the arm of the chair while he flipped the pages of his book.

"And I said, that realism as a painting movement was dead, what with photography and all. That showing the brush strokes was a way for an artist to connect with their viewers. To show their emotions through the paint, leaving an impression of the day they painted it. From the way the light was, to their mood. It's a way for us to feel as they did..."

"....uh-huh..."

"Then you threw that paintbrush at me...ruined the brand new blouse Mom bought me. I took the heat for it...got grounded for a week...."

The only sound he made was to slowly flip to the next page with an exasperated sigh. She was getting to him now, round two would be hers!

"Seeing this....makes that week I spent grounded not so bad...."

The pages of the book rustled uncomfortably.

"Good to know that in the end...I was right."

The flipping abruptly stopped. Aeris turned slightly, enough to see the cold glare coming from his direction. He shifted position and resumed reading.

"Anyway. I like the painting...her eyes are different...from the original I mean. "

His head tilted a bit as he scanned the page of his book. He was trying to give the impression of being deeply absorbed in what he was reading. Aeris knew better. This was an old tactic of his.

"Why'd you decide to change the color?" she asked, not expecting him to answer, "I suppose green does fit in better with the color scheme...I mean, if you did change it to green. I can't quite tell. It's very subtle."

She received silence so profound that she could have drowned in it.

"I was thinking of going to Gold Saucer sometime....you know...become one of those topless showgirls they got there."

More weighty silence followed by even more page flipping.

"Or maybe a stripper...."

No response.

"Would you like to see my pole dance? I've been practicing..."

Complete and utter silence that was shortly followed by furious page flipping.

"So, You know Tseng and Reno...from my third period math class...We all had a threesome last night... And afterwards we all shot some heroin and then killed us a hobo." The pages flipped slightly slower, "Then...we went to the circus and afterwards they let us into the back. We dressed up like clowns and had an all clown orgy. Nothing but a bunch of hot clown sex...sticking rubber mallets where they don't belong....and finding new uses for cream pie filling... "

She looked over at him surreptitiously. He was staring intently at the book in his hand, very obviously trying to ignore what she just said. His head was resting on one hand, his lips were drawn tight and his cheeks were dusted a light pink.

"It's amazing the things clowns can do with those little balloon animals..."

He coughed, dipping his head lower and holding the book up higher. His shoulders shook slightly as he tried to hold in his laughter.

"You're not even reading that book..."

"No...I'm not. You caught me. Congratulations."

"So why with the pretending?"

"I'm ignoring you until you go away." She giggled and he looked up at her, "Trying anyway."

"I'm not gonna go away...not until we talk."

With an arch of his brow, he smirked, gazing at his book in idle boredom, "We're talking now."

"Yes, I know. But that's not the kind of talking I'm talking about. I'm talking about...more...serious kind of talking...."

Sephiroth shook his head in confusion as he took that entire speech in but he didn't say a word. The look on his face was all she needed. It was subtle, but a small half smile curved his lips. She could feel his humanity return to him, the warmth he exuded when he was like this was unimaginable. Again, she felt a wash of nostalgia. Her Seph was back....

"Did you ever finish that one painting....the one with the bottles?"

She'd successfully lightened the mood until that moment. The minute she brought up that painting, the tension she saw lifting from him returned ten fold.

"No."

"...About that....I...."

He was up in a heartbeat. Slamming the book he'd been reading down and jumping to his feet. Whatever warmth she felt froze solid and shattered. He strode over to her and for a harrowing moment, she thought he'd hurt her. But he didn't, he brushed past her and shut the light off. She felt the wind of his movement as he rushed past, felt the warmth of his body as it grazed her as he reached for the light. And with a click, the light in the room was snuffed out and his heavy footsteps receded from her. There was a thump and a rustle of fabric and then silence. Aeris sat in the dark, terrified and embarrassed. Her mind was racing, trying to find the right words. In the dark, almost alone with her thoughts, the few minutes it took her to get the courage to speak again seemed like an eternity.

"I...I never meant to hurt you....I came up...because...."

He interjected coolly, his voice muffled by the distance, "I'm tired. Leave."

Aeris nibbled her lips in indecision. What was the right decision? The smart one would be to leave. It's what he wanted and she wasn't so sure she'd be able to reach him anyway. The more reckless decision was to stay and talk, and probably make things worse. She was impulsive by nature and often times she thought more with her heart than her head. And her heart told her to stay. Quietly, she stood and with small steps, she inched towards him. The floor creaked, the wind howled but all she could hear was her heart. It sang that this was right and what needed to be done, its tune full of sorrowful longing. Kneeling on the floor next to his bed, she stared at his back barely keeping her tears from falling.

"Seph?" she pleaded softly, her heart squeezed in pain when he didn't answer, "Seph...please....what happened to us?"

His back answered, "We grew up..." his voice was so colorless that it was void of anything, so bitter that it barely sounded human. She felt chilled to the bone, like she'd gone walking out onto an arctic glacier in nothing but her birthday suit, "....I'm tired, Aeris...and I'm asking you to leave now..."

The threat was implied. Leave now, or I'll give you a reason to leave. She sniffled, a half laugh, half sob escaped her throat. Was it possible to feel your heart breaking? She buried her head in her arms, resting them on his bed. It was so hard and she fought the tears desperately but whatever resolve she had before was gone....They won. He won and she lost. She lost him. Three small tears escaped, trailing down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook as she tried to keep them back but it wasn't enough and she knew it. They'd fall sooner or later and Aeris didn't want to be here when they did. She couldn't turn back the hands of time, couldn't repair this rift. Tiredly, she lifted her head, gazing at his still form. The way his pale hair spread over the bed. She reached out and touched it gently, letting the strands slip through her fingers as she rose to her feet.

Watching them fall, she whispered, "I missed you...." And hanging her head, she walked away from him, her feet were heavy, her heart even heavier.

Once she got down the stairs, she'd planned to run, just like she had a year and a half ago. The sick similarity of it was less than amusing and did nothing to help her stem the flood of tears. She stumbled for the exit as they came. Gods above, she was going to trip and break her neck at this rate. Would it be a bad thing? Her eyes were blurred from the tears, her nose stuffed and her entire head felt like it might explode. She made it to the doorway, and through tear stained vision, she could see the stairs just barely in the dim light.

One last look back? She shook her head, pausing at the doorway. It didn't matter. Her hand slipped from the frame, hanging limply at her side. Her feet dragged her forward, and zombie-like, she made for the stairs, hoping vaguely that she might take a tumble down them and fatally break her neck. She went to step forward but she stalled mid-step, something anchored her to the spot. A slight pressure around her wrist tightened, but this time it didn't hurt. Her heart skipped several beats and for a moment she was sure it'd stopped all together. Aeris couldn't breathe, couldn't move...could barely even think. His hand encircled her entire wrist. If he squeezed hard enough, he probably could break it. Snap the delicate bones like they were dry twigs. When had he become so big? She knew...but it was still amazing to her. To see him now and remember him then, one was a skinny little slip of a boy....she'd been taller than him at one point. The other was a young man, who was eight inches taller than her and a complete mystery.

Slowly, she turned her head and looked back, her gaze meeting his silhouetted form. The only thing she could discern in the dark were his eyes. They glowed a gentle neon green, so soft she could barely see it. She felt vulnerable again, with every emotion burning its way to the surface. He could see it, she knew, his vision was better in the dark than hers. Every thought was a whisper that rippled across her features, every emotion hung out to dry with each move she made. He'd have to know....She tried to pull away but his grip was solid. Swallowing hard, she faced him but didn't meet his gaze this time. Averting her eyes as they stood together in the dark. His hand slipped from her wrist and caught her hand. She could feel his fingers as they intertwined with hers. He squeezed and pulled her forward, into his arms.

Aeris let out a little gasp as she flew into him, colliding with his chest. She blushed, never having been this close to him recently. His arms were around her. It felt like time had rolled back and she wondered if she'd just imagined the last year and a half. The feeling of his arms around her was so familiar but at the same time, those arms were strange to her. They weren't the same as they were before. Nothing about him was. She'd changed as well and she wondered if he felt the same. Awkward and a little scared. It was almost like she had to relearn how to hold him. She rested her head against his chest, she could hear his heart beating and it was amazing. He was real and alive and holding her. Her hands were shaking as she reached up and wrapped her arms around him. His back was so wide that they couldn't even touch each other and she was forced to cling to his shirt. And just when she thought this was enough and more than she could take, he leaned down and nudged his head against hers gently.

"I missed you too."

The small sniffles and sobs had waned, and she thought she was finished with tears. But this soft admission was enough to start them all over again. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed harder than she could ever remember. A whole year and a half without this kind of comfort and she was starving for it. Never knowing how much she missed this closeness until it was gone. Aeris clung to him tightly, afraid that if she let go then he'd fall away and disappear into dust. He was clearly alarmed by this and at first did all the things he'd seen her do to calm him. And when that didn't work, he was more than perplexed. Comforting others was not his gift it was hers. He extricated himself from her, amid more frantic sobs. Leading her over to the bed. Not one of his brighter ideas but he thought that perhaps if she sat down...it would be better somehow. Hell, it worked in the movies.

She sat down and he sat beside her, one arm over her trembling shoulders. Just sitting wouldn't be enough. She needed to feel warm and loved and safe. And before he knew it, she was on his lap, with her arms around his neck and her face pressed into his shoulder. Again, he was impressed with the stupidity of his decision making process. He only meant to comfort her; he didn't really want this part to happen. It was just to relieve the guilt over making her feel so badly. He'd always hated seeing her cry.

She couldn't stop the tears, no matter how hard she tried. They just kept coming, followed by her own desperate cries and gasps for breath. It was like he died and came back to life all in one go, and here she was, left to deal with the grief and wonder on legs too shaky to hold her. She pressed against him, holding onto him tightly. Shifting in his arms so that her face rested in the crook of his neck. She stayed like this until the tears were spent and awareness crept back in. The reality of where she was hit her suddenly. She was so close that she could feel his heat underneath her fingertips, the warm pulse of life just beneath his skin. She'd dreamed of a moment like this a thousand different times, a thousand different ways. This was no teenage daydream. It wasn't one of her imagined encounters with some crush from one of her classes. This was real and very, very tangible. In a moment of déjà vu, she remembered that feeling when she was a child. That moment when she realized that she had a friend who'd last forever. This was love, a startling realization but undeniable. A love that had always been there, it started as simple friendly affection and gradually, it transcended that and became something more, something deep and lasting...if she could only grasp it.

Training her eyes upward, she followed the long line of his neck to his face. From her point of view, she couldn't see much. His cheek, the soft curve of his jaw….his ear and the downy wisps of hair that were tucked messily behind it. She sighed softly, inhaling his scent, which was hard for her to explain in words. Not so much an actual scent, but a feeling that wafted off of him. It surrounded her, permeated her own skin and drove the warmth she felt inside outward.

Ever so slowly, she lifted her head and pulled back to take more of him in, wiping away the sticky film that coated her cheeks, obliterating the evidence of her breakdown. He took notice of her movement and her scrutiny and turned his head to look at her. Funny, how his face could look so blank yet hold so many different expressions in it. Sometimes, it was like reading a rather obtuse piece of literary fiction. The kind that had some insightful answer to the mysteries of life but you couldn't quite find the meaning. You could read and reread and no matter how many times you buried yourself in the text, it was always just beyond your comprehension. She struggled with that now, to pull meaning from words that were too inadequate to describe much of anything. Eventually, she just stopped and met his gaze. Over-thinking things wouldn't get her very far. It was enough to see him like this, with eyes opened and free of the clouded childishness of youth, to see him with the eyes of a woman and not a girl.

His hand reached up and brushed away a lingering tear stain with his thumb. The touch was so tender, she barely felt it. Again, she felt terribly vulnerable under his gaze. It was like she was naked, like he could see straight through her into her heart and beyond. To bear one's soul to another can be an experience that's simultaneously liberating and terrifying. She could feel the same fear in him. The push me, pull me of wanting and not wanting. The fear that what you want may not be what they want. You want to know but then again, maybe you don't, the awkwardness that inevitably comes with the first phase of love, where everything is uncertain.

His hand left her face and he just looked at her, as if waiting for some secret signal. It was clear he wanted more but there was fear of pushing too far. She knew why, it was because she'd run away the last time. He was afraid that she didn't return his affection and knowing him, he'd forced himself to set up a code of conduct. It was likely just by holding her he was breaking it. Codes like this were his version of setting up walls. He'd decide that he wasn't supposed to do something and having decided, it was near impossible to get him to rethink it. His walls were made of the strongest stuff, hard to break down with simple effort. She was sure he'd coded himself not to touch her, to treat her coldly so that it hurt less. Which made no sense, but even he could be devoid of logic sometimes. She'd once been exempt from such treatment. The only one allowed in, while he kept everyone else at arm's length. So, now she was apart of it, no longer left out.

Aeris wanted to test this theory, though she was as nervous and afraid as he. With aching slowness, she lifted her hand and moved it towards him. Keeping her eyes averted as she gently stroked his hair with her fingers. Pushing back stray locks and securing them behind his ear. He froze, but this time it wasn't in anger. It was because he didn't want to feel this, it was what he wanted and what he was terrified of, all in one small touch. She twirled the locks in her fingers, obliviously happy that it was as soft as she remembered. Letting them slip through her fingertips, reaching up again to comb through his long bangs. Tugging on the end gently as she gazed into his eyes, which were wide with apprehension.

Her hand was lit by blue moonlight, letting go of his hair to reach forward and touch him. Fingertips just brushing his lips like a blind person trying to memorize a new face. He was still for all of this, watching her, waiting to see what would happen. His heart jack hammering in his chest. If she screwed up now, that heart would go on beating...as hearts do but instead of a living heart, capable of love. It'd be dead and frozen. Everything hung on the next few moments. Aeris took her chance. Pushing back his bangs, she craned her neck and kissed him softly. It was chaste, no more than a simple peck on the lips but it was a start.

He was shaken by the gesture, letting out a silent gasp as she pulled away. This was the reaction she was looking for. He had his code, but it wasn't that strong. She could break it. Aeris adjusted her position, cupping his cheek with her hand, she drew him down and kissed him again. At first, he resisted but with persistent effort he responded. Kissing her back in short, gentle bursts that gradually blurred to become one passionate kiss. The feeling blew everything away and she understood that old saying about the earth moving. It felt just like that and more. Her hands dove through his hair, wrapping around his neck as she sunk down onto the bed. He was about to follow her but he balked, sitting up fully as she arranged herself to make access for him easier. Aeris paused and propped herself up, giving him a puzzled look.

"What is it?"

He couldn't look at her, "Y-you...should g-go...."

"Why?" Aeris burst out, angry and downright astonished.

Sephiroth looked down at his fingers, which were shaking. Trying his best not to pay attention to the young woman sprawled out so willingly in his bed. Strangling his feelings and trying to quench the fire in his blood that tugged at him, begging a release.

"Sephiroth!" She barked, noticing the way he jumped at the use of his name. "Answer me. Why..."

He sighed and closed his eyes, speaking in a barely audible voice, "Because...this is wrong. We shouldn't--"

"That...is NOT an answer...What's so wrong about it? Is it me? Is it because I ran before? Because if it is, I'm sorry....I was scared then but I'm not now. I'm ready...." Where those words came from, she didn't know. They just poured from her...emotions overflowing, she felt her voice tighten becoming tearful and upset. Voice cracking, she blurted out, "...I love you...."

His head turned minutely, but she could barely make out his expression. There was a heavy sigh and his shoulders set as if readying himself for some terrible task. He didn't want her. This was where he'd let her down easy or maybe he wouldn't. Either way, it was the final blow that would break her heart completely and shutter his from her forever. Aeris sat up abruptly, she wouldn't just sit here and take it. Laying on his bed, giving herself to him like a wanton fool....and she was surprised he'd reject her? She could kick herself. Maybe she would once she got back to her room. Straightening her hair and her shirt, she stood up, continuing to adjust herself nervously. Sephiroth said nothing to her, barely even noticed she'd gotten up. His head hung low, still refusing to look at her. So, this was how it would be.

"...B-but....I-" She paused, choking back a cry, "I...g-guh-guess you don't f-feel the same. I'll go...I'm sorry to have bothered you..." Those words were so hard to say yet came out in one breathless burst before she turned to run away for the final time.

For the third time that night, he grabbed her wrist. She tried to pull it back but he wouldn't let go. Grunting, she tried harder, becoming more frantic as tears spilled down her cheeks. Why wouldn't he just let her go? He hated her, didn't want her, then why did he keep pulling her back?

"L-Let me go....let...me..go...let...m-me...g-g-go...I w-w-wuh-wah-want to go...LET ME GO!"

And when he still didn't the cry became more garbled, until they weren't words at all but sobs. He did let her go, her wrist slipped from his hand and he stood and then he held her. One hand stroked her hair, while the other wrapped around her waist. She wanted to resist but she knew it was futile. If he wanted to hold her, no amount of struggling could stop him. He was much stronger than her and she really didn't want to fight it. Her hands rested on his chest and she cried, pressing against him just to feel his warmth one more time. He kissed the top of her head and spoke into her hair.

"I... I don't want you to go...I love you..." he whispered, almost as if ashamed by it, "I have for a long, long time but I was too afraid to tell you...I didn't have the words...not the right ones...And I didn't want to ruin things...and you, I thought...you only saw me as a friend. So, I didn't say anything. Then that day happened and..."

"Bu...but then why did you--"

"Because...if you'd just listen...instead of jumping to conclusions. I...It's just better if we don't....it's inappropriate. We're not little kids anymore and..."

"I don't believe this....let me go. Now. I don't want to hear this. You sound like my mom...You...."

He looked away when she said that, his lips tightening slightly. There was more to this than met the eye. He was hiding things. His eyebrows knitted together creating tight little lines in his face and he was trembling. He only did that when a nightmare returned and he didn't want to bother her with it.

"What is it? What's this really all about?"

"Your parents."

"What about my parents?"

"After that afternoon. The afternoon....your mom, she saw you or something. Came to talk to me. She thought we had a fight....I'm a terrible liar, Aeris."

"She knows...What happened..."

He nodded, "...Your father came to talk to me, later that night. He said that it was best if...That this was a lesson of sorts. That we were too old to be just friends anymore and this proved it. He said, it was time for you and I to have our own lives...our own friends....Well, you anyway. That I shouldn't depend so much on you. It was inappropriate... You're like a son to me...he said that, which I thought was very funny...all things considered..." he snorted, "...and that being said...stay away from my daughter. Those weren't his exact words...but it was kind of the theme I think he was going for..."

Sephiroth sighed, opening his mouth as if to say more and then closing it. His eyebrows furrowing as he wrestled with interior frustration. Words were never his strongest suit, at least not when speaking in such extended bursts. He preferred more precise, carefully thought out language but she'd caught him quite off guard.

"He said all that..." She whispered, really more to herself than him but he nodded anyway.

It made sense now. The stupid little birds and bees talk her mother had with her just a week after the incident in the attic. If she were more paranoid, she would have connected the events. It never really occurred to her and at the time she thought her mom was just being weird, as all moms are. Worrying that their daughters are going out into the world to mount the first cock that came around. Ifalna should know her better than that. Besides the fact that what business was it of theirs to intrude on something between her and Sephiroth. She picked her own friends and she'd sure as hell picked who she fell in love with. And if she wanted to have sex, well dammit, it was her choice when and with who. If she wanted to smother herself in peanut butter and have an all clown orgy that was her business as well. She was seventeen now, soon to be eighteen and a full adult. Mommy and Daddy had no right to continue to treat her like a stupid baby. They were right. She wasn't a child anymore, and neither was he.

"What else did he say?"

"That was...um...that was...that was it..."

An evasive answer if she ever heard one. He looked away with the same frustrated look on his face. Hiding things, she hated it...HATED it when he hid things. Now she was angry.

"Seph..." she said, a terse note of warning in her voice.

He managed another non-answer, with a fifty percent chance of him not looking at her.

"....Seph....there's more....tell me..."

Swallowing hard, he shook his head. Dim moonlight lit his face, his eyes were wet. He rarely cried, even when he was little. This was as close as he got most times. Holding his feelings close enough that they bothered him, but always keeping them back. Even when they were about to explode. It wasn't healthy. She placed her hand on his cheek and tried to guide his gaze back to her. He wasn't having it and shrugged it off, closing his eyes as he turned away. Undaunted, she placed both hands on either side of his face and would not let go until he looked at her. He fought it, but as always, her efforts were more persistently stubborn than his. Miserable, he let her turn his head but kept his eyes downcast.

Tenderly stroking his cheek, she spoke to him in that soft, comforting tone he'd come to cherish, "Seph, please look at me....what else did he say?"

He shook his head, not wanting to say.

"Boo...please..."

"Don't call me that....You know I hate it..." He grimaced, tentatively looking into her eyes and finding only acceptance in them. She was always that way, kind and sympathetic...so unlike everyone else in the world. It was one of the many reasons he loved her.

"What? Boo?" she asked innocently, a mischievous little grin on her face.

"I'm serious..."

"So am I...spill it or I'll call ya Boo again."

"He told me that our relationship was developing in the wrong direction. If I didn't back off, I'd have to move out...for propriety's sake."

Aeris froze in raw disbelief. How dare they!? How could her parents do such a thing? They knew what had happened to him and all that he lost. How could...they were threatening to take the only family he had left from him. And for what? For propriety?!! What kind of backwards ass, medieval horseshit was this? Her lips thinned and her eyes narrowed. No one told her what to do. No one. Her mind was made up and she looked him straight in the eye. He saw the determination harden her features and the fire that flickered in her eyes. That look...he'd seen it before and it had never meant anything good. She'd come to a decision and whatever it was, it meant trouble.

"I don't care."

"Huh? What?!"

"I don't care. If my parents kick you out, then they'll have to kick me out too. It's as simple as that. Where you go, I go." She said with firm finality, lifting her hand to stroke his cheek.

He flinched, having only enough energy to breathe her name, "Aeris...." Sephiroth paused for a moment, regarding her with wide and shining eyes, "You can't....Your family..."

"Has made an ultimatum. A stupid ultimatum. One I intend to challenge. I love you. They have no right..." She almost choked on the words, feeling so lost and angry that she was nearly overwhelmed, "They have no right to do that to you. No right to take away...they just have no right...and I won't stand for it. I'm yours...no one can take that away. No one."

"Aeris, this is your family...I couldn't..."

"Shhh..." She instructed gently, resting a finger over his lips to silence him.

The world was deathly still as she looked deeply into his eyes, her hands smoothing his skin and hair of their own accord. She felt like she'd been transported outside her body and she was looking at him from somewhere far above. It was unreal, the way his skin felt underneath her fingertips. So soft and smooth but unyielding. Her heart raced as she ran her hand over his neck, trailing her fingers down his shoulder, his arm. Her Sephiroth, always so cold and formal, and yet so warm, a human furnace was underneath that wall of stone. Her eyes glazed as she looked up at him, searching for something. A sign. Anything. She found what she was looking for, his eyes gazed back with heavy lidded warmth. He wanted this and without thinking, she carefully peeled off his shirt and was happily surprised to find that he did not stop her. Curious, she traced patterns on his chest as she drank in the sight. There were no words to describe it save beautiful. He was beautiful. A work of art...and suddenly she felt timid. He was perfection and what was she? Would he....

The open ended question was answer as she felt his touch searing its way up her arm. He stopped at her shoulder, trailing his fingers down her back. They rested on the hem of her shirt and there was that delicious moment, when she felt them curl underneath the fabric as he pulled the garment off. She enjoyed the feeling of her own shirt being stripped off of her. It was almost freeing, until she realized that she was now half naked in front of the man she loved. Sure, not entirely a bad thing but at the same time...she'd never been with a man before. She didn't know what to expect, how to feel and suddenly she felt awkward and shy. Unconsciously, she slid her arms up to try and cover herself. Feeling like a wanton whore for feeling this way, for the warmth and the want she felt wracking her body.

He understood, as he felt as exposed and vulnerable as she. Gently, he touched her cheek, sliding it underneath her chin as he cupped it. Brushing away her hair, he smiled affectionately at her. The look in her face, how he'd longed to see her look at him like that. With such longing, such desire. He pulled her closer with one hand and with the other, he loosened the arms that hid her from him. She willingly was enfolded into his embrace and gasped as she felt flesh meet flesh. Her breasts flattened and pushed against his broad chest. She could feel the warmth of his skin against hers and it was intoxicating. Her fingers brushed over the place where his heart lay and she pressed them into it. Underneath her fingertips, she could feel the maddening beat of his heart. Closing her eyes, she buried her head in his chest, kissing the flesh as she surrendered to that heartbeat. He moaned and pulled her closer...lowering his head to place a trail of kiss across her shoulders and up her neck. She shivered when she felt his tongue peeking between his lips, followed by the gentle tug of his teeth as he nibbled her neck. He blazed a trail upwards, stopping briefly at her ear until he came to his final destination.

There was a pause as their hearts beat as one and they gasped for breath. Their faces mere inches from each other. So close to claiming what they wanted. With aching slowness, he lowered his face to hers and for a moment, she was convinced he'd turn away. That what she wanted would not happen. And then the world was blown away. His lips met hers in a searing kiss that destroyed reason and logic, anything that interrupted this one perfect moment. She closed her eyes and just felt. The way his lips moved over hers, slippery and wet, and with every lustful movement, she wanted more. Her head swam, the twining resonance in the kiss overwhelming her every sense.

They fell back onto the bed, becoming a writhing, tangled mass of limbs. Bucking and straining against each other as they sought for further closeness. Clothes were thrown off, hands roamed and there was nothing but moonlight to tell the tale. It drifted over the forms on the bed, consumed in the midst of their passion play. Soon, there was not a scrap of cloth between them. Naked as the day they were born. They struggled into position, both knowing what they wanted but neither knowing how to get there or what to do.

Sephiroth hovered above her, his slim hips placed firmly between hers. Her legs were open and wrapped around him, her body yearning for something she had only ever dreamed of. Aeris was an ignorant girl but a girl who was turning into a woman. Want, she knew what she wanted. Him, inside her and she arched her back in blatant desire. She wanted...needed....He licked his lips in indecision, his cock resting just in-between her legs, poised at the entrance.

"Please..."

The shaded whisper was enough to goad him into action and slowly, he pushed himself inside of her. Searing heat invaded her senses, pain exploded and she let out a pained gasp as he invaded her. She'd heard that it would hurt, but gods above, she never believed that it would....The pain stopped, or more precisely, it continued to throb viciously but made no further headway. He'd stopped. She opened her eyes half way and gazed at him questioningly. He looked down at her with concern. She was suddenly aware of her pained gasps and the tears that cascaded down her cheeks. Wiping them away, she was amazed but un-phased. Her brows knit, his cock being half in and half out of her was too much to bear.

"...Are you okay...do you want me to stop..." He asked in a quick, hushed whisper.

The worry in his voice was evident. He hadn't understood, probably didn't even know. She smiled as warmly as she could and stroked his pale cheek.

"No. It's okay." She explained softly, "For girls...it always hurts the first time...Just...do it quick...I'll be fine..."

His brow furrowed and he gave her a doubtful nod before he sighed in preparation of what he was about to do. She closed her eyes tightly and braced herself as she felt him thrust into her once. Something inside of her was torn and the pain was nothing short of awful but she bit back a scream. This was a right of passage. One every woman has to plod across when her time comes, and she would face it bravely. That tear within her was the last remnants of her girlish naïveté. She was a woman now and through the pain, she couldn't help but smile at this. He'd gone still, waiting for a sign that she was alright and allowing her the time to adjust to him. It was so strange. Not at all the way she expected. As they pain receded, she became aware of him...of what was inside her now. This was the forbidden, the act that was reserved for married couples and responsible adults.

Sex.

The word was so artless. So blunt. She sighed, determined to make more of this than just lustful rutting. Opening her eyes languidly, she gazed up at her lover. He was her lover. The words flowed from her and a fire raged within. Her lover. Aeris smiled at him, her hands running across his chest and arms, gently pulling him out of the tender worry he had for her. Sephiroth smiled back, almost shyly, one large hand gracefully pushing back her bangs before he covered her face in kisses. Nuzzling her cheek, he kissed it before whispering into her ear.

"Are you sure...."

"Yes..."

He didn't wait for further consent and slowly, he began to move within her. His thrusts were unlearned but smooth. He explored her, moving more slowly, then faster, trying to find a rhythm that pleased them both without sending himself over the edge. She gasped underneath him, bucking in counterpoint to his sometimes frenzied thrusts. It was sweet torture to her. Feeling his cock inside her and when he moved just right...she could feel all of it. From head to tip and it was deliriously tantalizing. It pushed against her walls and even with the hardest thrusts, that feeling was warm and gentle. She wanted to devour him and tilted her hips to allow him better access, gasping as he thrust deeper, the friction building to almost unbearable levels. He pulsated inside her, drawing in and out with a devilish slowness. The heated kisses they shard only heightened her arousal. She could feel the soft pooling of liquid between them and a sharp clenching in her stomach. Tensing, she was preparing, urging him on as she felt the hazy need drive her to distraction. His thrusts became more learned, more deliberate. He was fighting to maintain control, when she was so wet all around him.

She could feel as the tip of his member pushed into the deepest part of her. To that spot that pulsated with need and want, calling out for fulfillment. She hitched her hips up, aiding him, joining him in the dance. Instructing him where he should go and spurring him to his own release. His thrusts became slow, yet frantic as he pushed against her core. She could feel the flushed warmth as it bled from within, and with each push she was driven higher and higher. Until all she saw was flashing white and she gasped. Her back arched, her hands fisted the sheets beneath her and he pushed on. Thrusting, thrusting, until warmth and heat and pleasure washed over her like a sudden ocean wave. Crashing into every cell of her being, overwhelming her entirely until all she could do was tremble beneath him. As he trembled above her, shaking as he perfunctorily thrust a few times before collapsing on top of her. She was vaguely aware of feeling something cold being released into her as he finished and the strange satisfaction that it brought.

Tiredly, they kissed and nuzzled each other without saying a word. For what use were words after a revelation like that? They were nothing and no where. She sighed contentedly, shivering a little as he pulled out and lay next to her. The mingled sweat and lingering fluids from their sex filled the room and wasn't, to her nose anyway, entirely unpleasant. It was evidence of what they'd done. Evidence that she'd grown up. That he was hers and she was his. And there was nothing more beautiful than that to her at that very moment. She moved closer to him, content to bury her face in the crook of his neck. His hair pooled all around her, like a vast and unmovable curtain of pale moonlight. He gazed down at his tiny lover. Worried for their future and what it might bring, but glad that he'd face it with her. Kissing her temple, he settled down and just held her in his arms.

What would be, would be. And what would come of tomorrow and the day after that, neither of them would know. All that mattered was the night and the scattered moonlit path they'd just walked together. With muffled sighs and shuttered dreams, the lovers closed their eyes and let the midnight of sleep swallow them. Morning would come and there were miles and miles to go before they found any true rest.

But for now. Just being in each other's arms was enough.