Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There are rules that we must follow as those who are fully dedicated to the Shinra ideology.

Many rules that my mind forgets but my body remembers, keeping me out of trouble when they fly over my head. There is one that I never lose sight of;

Don’t fall in love.

This is quite easy for me. I’m good at ignoring people, especially since we don’t have to work so closely together. I don’t talk much with anyone here. I’d prefer to keep it that way.

Though, there is one person I must be in forced proximity with for the second time in my career— First Class SOLDIER Zack Fair. I’ve seen him around, even before our mission in Modeoheim. He stands out, not just in looks but in personality, the much needed light in our shitstorm of a company. I used to like my job. It’s becoming repetitive now.

I’ve failed becoming a SOLDIER more times than I can count. I’m not an infantryman because I want to be. I think I’m trying to prove something. Whatever that may be.

It doesn’t matter to me when he’s around. He’s good at taking you out of your mind, dragging you from your child-like worries, liberating you from your irritation. I could stare at him all day. The very idea of his being haunts my soul, draws my eyes to him though I do not want to look. He turns his back to me, he doesn’t realize I’m there. Not yet. Will he ever?

I guess I’m plagued by him. I want to be him, I think. But there’s something deeper. Something buried beneath my heart, circling my veins like oxygen. I need it, but I don’t quite realize it’s there. It’s essential, but easily forgettable.

I want to say something. I’m staring at the back of his neck like a fool, not daring to walk up to him unless he acknowledges me. I am his subordinate, after all. I couldn’t tell you why he respects me. Everyone else looks at me for what I am— a low-life SOLDIER wannabe who’s only relevant because I’m friends with someone powerful. It’s awkward, being around all of his friends and hearing them talk as though I’m not there. He usually finds some way to include me, though. He says he likes to hear me speak. That I don’t do it that often. I haven’t got much to say, I usually tell him. He shakes his head.

-I know you do, he said to me once. I can see it in your eyes. The way you look at everybody, I can just tell there’s some monologue brewing in there… 

-I don’t monologue, I respond.

-C’mon, spikes. You can fool everyone else but you can’t fool me.

That moment, everyone seemed to notice I was present. His voice commanded them to pay attention to me, and they obey like drones. I can’t lie and say I didn’t appreciate their regard, but all at once was all too much. I had to remove myself like a coward, heart beating on my chest like I owed it something. 

And now, I stare at him, making myself as small as possible, begging he doesn’t notice me, while simultaneously wishing that he does. He’s sort of far away from me now, standing on the opposite side of the cafeteria. My face is hot. He’s with other people. I hope I’m not turning red.

Like a bird, I am filled with the desire to fly, open my mouth that I was blessed by Gaia to speak with, and soar. Though I hold myself as an apex predator, to them I am feeble prey, something to poke at, to tease, to humiliate. Zack tells me it’s all in my head. Maybe he’s right.

He turns to me, possibly sensing my tired and heavy eyes on his silhouette.

He smiles at me and I have been stricken; my heart bleeds on the table my hands are resting on. It’s a weird feeling. I admire him the same way I do Sephiroth, but Sephiroth doesn’t wound me in this way. Zack is skilled with the buster sword, he is elegant with it, and though he will only fight with it bluntly, he still punctures my soul and shatters it like tempered glass. I absorb his awareness like I need it to survive. I look up to him, I want to be him so badly it hurts. Or, is it something else? I don’t have time to think about that, he makes his way towards me. He’ll want to talk to me. My hands clench into fists with each step he takes, the movements breaking me apart.

I wonder if he hears my body crack with the pressure, the rain of my existence pouring out, mixing with my blood in such a revolting way. I fear I’ll be sick.

I wonder if he can sense my growing discomfort, my teeth rotting through irradiated tears and blood, my lungs burning with anticipation. What is this? Why am I so desperate? Is it truly desperation I’m feeling, or some second, immoral thing? I have no time to confront this; he is right there.

He speaks to me, but for a moment, I don’t hear him. He waves his hand in front of my face, drawing me out of my mind.

“You all there, storm Cloud?” He says. I nod my head so robotically I’m sure he recognizes it. He repeats what I previously couldn’t interpret,

“You know Lazard wants to talk to us?” I cock my head at him. He wants me to respond.

“No, I didn’t. For what?” I say.

“I don’t know,” he sighs. “Probably a mission,” Obviously, I think, but I reserve those remarks from him. I know he would take them to heart, and I don’t want him to. That smile that rests easy on his face, growing as though it’s a blooming flower. He might’ve read my expression.

“Less than satisfied?” He asks. I do admit, I am. Everything’s so repetitive, and I’m sick of it.

“Well, at least you’ve got your best friend Zack to be right by your side.” I try to laugh, but all that comes out is a meek, choked noise, as though I’m in pain; as though I am filled with disdain for him.

It’s not him I hate, it’s this place. I want to leave here, but I can’t leave him. He will be fine without me. It’s me I’m worried about.

Though, I should not be worried at all. I don’t know why I feel so strongly about what he would think. I mean, I barely know him. But at the same time, I feel like I know everything about him.

Noticing my lack of response, he drops his jaw in pretend shock, gripping his heart as though it pains him. Though, it should be me who is clutching on my body, desperately trying to hold it together. He is so close to me. He’s taking my air that I’m begging to have back.

“You don’t want to hang out with me?” he gasps. “And here I was, thinking we had somethin’ special…” 

Don’t say that to me, I think. It was stupid of me to think he’d give me my lungs back. I take a shaky breath inward. I have to say something. He’s inviting me to talk.

“It’s not you,” I mutter. “I just…” He gives me a look, one that I can’t decipher, and he holds his hand out to me. I am hesitant. I don’t know what he wants. I stare at it like it’s foreign to me.

“I don’t bite,” he says. I rest my hand gently in his. This is what he wants me to do, right? It would be embarrassing if he didn’t, and now we’re holding hands. I shudder at the thought.

“Stop,” he says suddenly. “Stop thinking. Be here in the moment, for a sec.” He knows me too well. I stupidly stare at him, not knowing what to say, before he grips my no hand and whips me out of my seat.

“What—” I begin, but glue my mouth shut once I notice the curious eyes around the cafeteria watching us. They watch us like we’re breaking a rule, and somehow, it feels like we are. Their eyes burn through my skin like lasers, pointing at me and are quite skeptical. Are they looking at him at all? Will this ruin his reputation?

“Hey,” he whispers, pulling me close to his body. I can feel the heat radiating off of him, and I know he feels mine, as I breathe a deep breath of hunger-filled sorrow beneath his nose. “Stop. Thinking. I want to show you somethin’.”

He whisks me away and I don’t resist. I let him drag me through the hallways, past the lobby. I think he’s going to bring me to Junon. I’ve been there countless times, I’ve often had to patrol there. But still, I’ll let him bring me, as long as he’s taking me somewhere, somewhere away from the tense, airless building we were once in.

Once outside, I relish in the cool breeze resting on my face. It feels new. It feels…feels like bliss.

“Is that a smile I see?” Zack’s voice startles me, pulls me out of my fantasy. He is the sun, but compared to Junon, he’s nothing but a candle. But also, both of them together make it feel like a supernova. It’s overwhelming, it’s euphoric, it’s horrifying. My chest gets tight. He’s still holding my hand. I stare at it again. It’s gloved, but still firm. I want to know what it looks like ungloved. Why do I want to know that?

He smiles at me and tugs on my hand. This time, I counter him, not tugging back but not blindly going with him either. He looks at me hesitantly, his smile softening as he sees my face.

“Hey, Cloud…?” Zack’s voice is suddenly small, he’s nervous, I can tell.

“Yeah?” He’s quiet for a while before he says,

“Nothing, storm,” he mutters. “Nothing at all.” I don’t press the subject, but I linger on the nickname. It’s not new, but he says it now like he’s hugging it tight to him rather than giving it to me. This isn’t fair to me. I didn’t give him permission to do this to me. I don’t even really know what this is.

“Where did you want to take me?” I ask after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. His compelling smile grows again on his face, and he pulls me with such force that I almost fall over. Before I know it, we’re running, and I wasn’t prepared for this.

“Zack—” I take a breath. “Slow down!” He doesn’t. Awesome. It’s good that I’m a great runner, but despite the breeze, it’s hot out.

“What was that?” I whisper-yell.

“I didn’t want to miss the sunset,” he says. His smile hurts me, he’s too perfect. The man that he is. My lungs burn with longing. I don’t know what I want, I don’t know why I want.

He finally lets go of my hand and I find myself aching for the touch again.

He sits on the ledge above the beach and he beckons me to sit with him. I do, and the stone is cold, even through my pants. It’s a good contrast from the heat, making me feel calm.

“It’s probably another 20 minutes until it actually sets. We’re early,” Zack says.

“You know what time it sets?” I ask.

“Yeah, ‘course. I try to see it every night if I can.”

“Then why’d you make us get here early?” He has nothing to say, but I can tell in the harsh evening light how his cheeks flush a pale pink. It makes me smile. 

“Well, I uh…” he scratches the back of his head. “Lost track of time, I guess…”

“We’re…early.”

“Well, I guess I was very— on track… of time, I guess!” He trips over his words and avoids my eyes. I can’t help but laugh. He shoves me and says,

“Don’t be mean, I’m trying to be genuine here!” He wipes his face with his hands. He does this when he has something to say. Honestly, I think he’s more stuck in his head than I am, especially when it’s serious. I won’t ask him to tell me. I’m not sure he knows that I’ve noticed this.

He gasps. I jump at the sudden noise as he grabs my arm.

“Oh my goodness, Cloud, I just thought of something…” He turns his head and stares into my eyes almost psychotically. “I don’t. Know. Your birthday.”

“You’ve never asked me.” His face falls for a moment, almost as if he is guilty.

He leans in, his chin nearly touching my shoulder. This proximity…it’s too much for me. I can hardly take in a simple breath.

“When is your birthday, then?” It’s tomorrow. It’s so simple to think these things, but when I try to let the words fall out of my mouth, they refuse to leave. I think he’ll feel bad. He’ll try and get me a gift, or something.

“Well? Gonna tell me?” I stare into his bright blue, mako burdened eyes and tighten my lips together. I can feel word vomit coming up, and it’s best to keep my thoughts to myself.

Somehow I manage a simple, meek, “August 11th.” He gives me this look of disbelief, kind of shock in what he hears.

“Cloud.”

“What?”

“Cloud!”

“…What?”

“Tomorrow? Really?” I sheepishly nod, finally breaking away from our stare. He follows my face with his eyes, like he’s begging me to look at him.

“Spikes…” he punches me playfully.

I wince like I'm in pain. “You never talk about yourself. I want to know more about you.” The way he says it makes me feel cared for. My heart’s dropped to my ass, and I feel like I’m going crazy. I think I’ve perfectly identified this feeling, now gripping the idea so it won’t run away from me anymore.

I stare at the ocean waves beneath us, the sun reflecting off of it into my eyes. It’s interesting how the sun seems to get brighter when the day is ending. Like its last fight, it must prove that it’s above that moon, better than it as it shines on our planet blue, even on the moon itself. It’s a taunt, really. The sun tells the moon, it’s my light you need to be visual. The moon responds, your light is nothing to me but a slight aid. Power to power, my night can enshroud your day, but your day is mere transparency on my darkness. 

Zack, now pulled away from me and sitting up, starts to hum a familiar tune. The company’s anthem. He also does this when he has something to say. He’s pouring his mind out into the notes, each word fusing with the music to make sure he doesn’t say anything he regrets.

“Cloud, look,” Zack beckons me to look at the sky.

It’s a mixture of blues, purples, and pinks, the blue enveloping it all like a hug, how quiet it is here.

The planet is breathing, living, thriving. She grows with us.

“Beautiful, no?” Zack asks. He’s looking right at me. I look at him, too. His eyes call to me. I can’t escape the softness of his eyes now shielded by the darkness. In the end, the moon always wins, doesn’t it? A day must end. Something has to get ruined.

I think in some sense, I have been put on a pedestal. Zack believes in me. I’m not sure why. He says I’m better than him, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s lying. This is real. This is raw, ugly, and true. But it also feels unreal; not real enough. He’s looking at me in a way I’ve wanted to be looked at for years, but I can’t get over the fact that the one who’s looking at me is him of all people.

My eyes

Drift to

His lips.

Only for a second. I swear, just for a second. But it stays with me.

I want to kiss him. I need to try it.

People are starting to go home. Soon, it’ll just be us. We should leave with everyone. We should rest for tomorrow. But neither of us take our eyes off from one another, like a challenge. Zack Fair never backs down from a challenge. I guess Cloud Strife doesn’t, either.

I do something unlike me. I lean in, feeling his breath on my lips. It derails for a moment, but immediately gets back on track. I wonder what that was. I get so close to him that his hair is on my forehead, itching my skin and breaking me out. Zack opens his mouth to say something, but before a word escapes his mouth I touch my lips to his, his nose touches the side of my nose, his lips are hot and eager. I am overwhelmed, but at the same time, I am at peace, like this was what I needed. I have no thoughts of Shinra, no thoughts of the people watching us, honestly, I have no thoughts at all. It gets too much at once once I feel his hand graze my jaw, and I pull back. I shouldn’t have done that to him. Why did I do that? My own selfish reason, I’m sure. That wasn’t fair to him.

“I—” he starts. I stand, the planet resting curiously under my feet. 

“I have to go,” I say. I shouldn’t have done that. 

I turn to leave and he calls my name, but I refuse to turn back around. I can’t face his expression, I can’t face him at all.

There are rules that we must follow as those who are fully dedicated to the Shinra ideology.

And I think now, I’ve broken every single one of them.

Chapter Text

He’s ignoring me. I want to die.

I saw him this morning, in the dining hall, sitting alone like he usually does. He looks at me in my eyes and says nothing. I wave, he doesn’t wave back. This is actual torture. I need to talk to Kunsel. He always knows what to say. He’s my voice of reason.

Speak of the devil.

He sits next to me at our usual table, burning his gaze into the side of my head.

“Whatcha thinking about?” He asks me. I groan.

“So many things…”

“Give me one.” 

I circle my mind, trying to find a way to say it. Kunsel knows me. He wouldn’t judge me. But I know I’m being stupid. I should just walk up to him.

It’s his birthday today. One year older, though he’s so mature it’s like he’s been living forever. One has to think what could have made someone this way. He never talks about himself. I do all the talking for us. I just want him to tell me every word, good or bad, that he’s thinking, blurting it out like he can’t contain it. His voice can soothe you to sleep. It feels like I’m burning up. I hope I’m not blushing.

My mind drifts to our kiss. It felt like roses, tasted like wine, smelled like honey. I wanted to stay in it forever, melt into it butter. Yesterday I will never forget. I love him. I wish I wasn’t too much of a coward to say it.

I need to get him a gift, too. I don’t know what to do.

This is all too much for me.

“S’that much?” Kunsel says. His voice startles me. For a moment, I forgot that he was there.

I weakly nod. “My head hurts. Why does everything have to be so complicated…” I sigh.

“Will you at least tell me who it’s about?” My attention is piqued.

“How’d you know it was a ‘who?’” I ask. Kunsel chuckles.

“Come on, man, look at you. You’re red, you’re shaking, and you have that look in your eye.”

”What do you mean, ‘look in my eye?’”

”Who is it? Tell me.” I shake my head at him, trying to remain serious when he’s obviously getting in my head. I’m horrible at keeping secrets, and he’s unfairly using that to his advantage.

”No,” I answer. He frowns.

”Please?”

”No.” He gives me a look. He knows me too well. He’s staring daggers into the side of my head and I can feel the words bubbling up in my throat. “It’s Cloud, alright?” I whisper. He drops his jaw, then begins giggling like a fuckiing school girl.

“I knew it! I owe someone 50 gil…”

“You bet on me? You loser.” He shrugs his shoulders in response. We’re quiet for a while, before he says,

“It’s his birthday today. Get him something nice. Write him a letter, or something.”

“That’s a good ide— how’d you know it was his birthday?” Again, he shrugs, leaving me with nothing but my racing thoughts. Am I an asshole for not asking? Did everyone know but me? I’m a horrible person, aren’t I?

“Get outta your head, lover boy,” he stands, and out of instinct, I stand with him. “Go and talk to him. Wish him a happy birthday.” I want to tell him I so desperately want to, but I can’t because he’s avoiding me. But if I tell Kunsel he’s avoiding me, he’ll ask me why, and I’ll have no self-restraint to stop myself from telling him.

“Okay,” I mumble, hiding my face in my hands. “Where are you going?”

“Wherever the wind takes me, my self-conscious friend.” As he walks away, he mouths, Go up to him! I consider it for a moment, but I feel a sense of dread sitting deeply in my chest. I look over to where he’s sitting and find his gaze settled cautiously on mine. He hesitates before looking away. I have to talk to him, I must. But it’s so difficult. I wish being in love was easy.

I walk manually, as though I’ve forgotten how to. I’m making my way toward him. I’m right there, and I’m terrified. I hate being ignored. But I hate confrontation all the same. I'm dragging my feet. I’m shaking. I’m pathetic.

I approach his table. He’s still refusing to look me in the eye.

“Hi,” I say. He nods as confirmation that he heard me. “Is there a particular reason you’re ignoring me, Cloud?” I feign indifference, not wanting to come on too strong. He tends to shut down when he doesn’t like a topic of conversation.

“I’m not ignoring you,” he lies. Before I can say something back, Lazard comes through the double doors and requests our and one other infantryman’s presence. He starts walking before I do, and I can see clearly that his hands are shaking.

We walk next to each other silently, the tension being so taut that a simple word can cut it in two.

When we approach Lazard’s door, he waits for me to enter. It’s a sign of respect, but I tell him all the time he doesn’t have to do that. He’ll never listen to me. I usually don’t mind it, but right now it almost makes me mad. We’re equal, to me at least. He has to stop acting like I’m above him just because of my status. I stand there, challenging him. I tip my head to him, telling him to go instead of me. He falters, unnerved by the sudden pushback, and then languidly makes his way into the room.

While in Lazard’s office, I’m barely paying attention to the brief. Something something Sephiroth, something something Nibelheim…Why does that sound familiar?

“You’re from there, right?” The room goes silent, and I’m shocked by the sound of my own voice. Cloud’s face flushes a deep red. Why did I say that? He’ll probably hate me for the rest of his life for that.

“From Nibelheim?” Why am I talking again? I don’t dare face him; I’m too ashamed.

“Yes,” Cloud responds. “You remembered.” I sense his walls lowering a bit. Okay, he won’t hate me forever. I sigh a breath of relief. I could’ve sworn I saw him smile. But it fades as quickly as it came. He’s preoccupied. He’s stuck in thought.

I’m sure he’ll be happy to be back home. 

The brief continues, and I can’t help but stare at Cloud. He looks so focused, so serious, so beautiful. I don’t pay attention until Lazard calls my name.

“Zack? Will you be okay on this mission?” 

“What…?” I look into Lazard’s eyes. He looks almost concerned. “Yes sir!” He nods and dismisses us, keeping his eyes on mine, as if to say he knows my secret.

~~~

We’re loading up for this mission to the barren country, expecting nothing but anticipating everything. I look over to Cloud, who seems more nervous than usual.

“Hey, Cloud?” I call out to him. He looks up at me, his face twisted with worry and discomfort. “You okay?” For a second I see him shake his head ‘no’ before quickly turning it into a nod.

“I’m alright,” he says. He’s lying, but I don’t press the issue. I need to write him a letter, like Kunsel said. I feel like I’m better with writing than I am with speaking. With writing, I can’t stutter, hesitate, or mess up. I can think clearly and thoughtfully, and take my time. Would he appreciate that?

“Well, looks like we’re done,” someone behind me says. “We’re ready to go?”

I look at Cloud, and he nods, although it’s unsure.

He steps in the truck first, staring at the floor. It isn’t until we start moving when I realize why he was so uncertain.

I forgot he’s motion sick.

He’s sitting with his back to the cold metal walls of the vehicle, his breathing shaky and worn like it’s difficult. I kneel down in front of him, not quite knowing what to say. I want to reach out to him and let my hand rest on his flushed cheek. I feel bad for him, that he has to deal with this. It seems so small to pity him for, yet I feel it so strongly.

Without thinking, I reach my hand out, longing to comfort him. But I pull back, forgetting the eyes on me and the vulnerable state we’re both in. I can take this time to write, I suppose.

I sit on the floor across from him, letting my legs extend to the side of his body. I hold my pencil, staring at my blank journal pages as though they’re foreign to me. It’s funny, I’ve never been at a loss for words. But now, being faced with this, having to be so suddenly exposed, I have nothing. 

I groan into the pages, trying to incite imagination. I think that I have so many things to say, I just don’t know where to put them in prose. This is the one moment where I can be alone with my words— and yet, they’ve stalled. Seems like a joke. 

Cloud looks up at me, and it feels like lightning. He asks me a question with his expression, tugging at my heart strings until I give in. I’m so bad at hiding things that he doesn’t even have to say anything for me to want to spill my guts out on the cold metal floor.

I exhibit restraint, however, and I brush off his concern with a shake of my head. He lingers for a moment, his hardened, burdened gaze almost softening before the truck hits a bump, and he’s covering his face in his knees again. When we get to Nibelheim, I’ll make him some tea. I honestly don’t know what helps this, so hopefully tea will. I think it could fix any ailment. Maybe it can fix my lack of creativity.

Finally, we’ve arrived at Nibelheim, and Cloud seems the most relieved of all. He exits the truck first, almost forgetting his gun before grabbing it with haste. I exit after him, watching as he leans on the gates to steady his breathing. I walk up to him and gently rest my hand on his shoulder, and whispering to him,

“Will you be okay?” He nods, straightens his back and shakes my hand away.

“As long as I’m not in the truck,” he says, “I’ll be fine.” And he’s gone. Something evil strikes my heart— something immaterial, something cruel. It’s devastation. It’s tiring. I want us to stop this game, this game that only I seem to be playing. I want him to get out of his aching mind, and realize that he’s done nothing wrong. But he won’t do that alone.

I have to write that letter.

~~~

While on our way to the local inn, I spot a book called “Birth flowers.” It calls to me and I have to answer— it feels too perfect to be true.

Without even giving it a second thought, I make my way into the shop, tell the others not to wait for me, and eagerly flip through the pages until I land on August.

There are plenty of wordy paragraphs on what August represents,

Struggle

Strength

Victory

Pride.

And how the bearers of this month are soldiers in their own right. Interestingly, this doesn’t quite sound like Cloud. He’s skilled with a gun and sword, sure, but he’s so tame, so non-confrontational that it seems almost out of character. But something in the back of my mind also tells me that he is already a soldier, with the way he holds himself, commands others, and exudes bravery despite everything else. I guess, it’s based more on what he is than what he isn’t. He’s allowed to be two things at once.

It says that this flower— the Sword Lily— can grow wildly in the deepest part of Nibelheim. I look around to make sure no one’s followed me into the store, put the book back gently and begin my search.

I search for nearly an hour— behind the town hall, in front of the stairwell to Mt. Nibel, but finally find it in a small crack of the pavement, the flower thriving despite its conditions. I don’t pull it yet. I use it as inspiration for my words, letting the powerful scent guide me. Now, it seems, I can write again, and the words flow like a river.

Even after finishing I sit here for a while, taking in the sunset.

It reminds me of yesterday, and though it’s only been 24 hours since he kissed me, it feels like a distant memory, something nostalgic that I long to feel again. I lay my hands on the still-drying ink resting on the pages and breathe the fresh Nibelheim air. It’s better than the usual cyber taste of Shinra— it’s real. It reminds me of my own town.

I decide it’s time to give him his gift.

I pull the flower cautiously, so as not to harm the delicate thing. This one is a pale yellow, almost matching the color of Cloud’s hair. After it’s safely out of the ground, I rip the page out of my journal, slightly less cautiously than I did with the flower.

I fold it as neatly as I can, and then make my way into the inn.

Walking up the stairs, I can tell that Cloud’s awake. He’s usually quiet as a mouse when he sleeps, but he’s pacing. I knock on the door before coming in, trying my best not to startle him. He opens the door and I can tell that he’s nervous. I’m not sure why. I come in to our room, obscuring the letter and flower from his sight as best as I can. It doesn’t take much effort. He keeps his eyes fixed on the hardwood floor.

He closes the door, almost slamming it, and looks up at me with a feigned smile. I smile back, knowing that he isn’t happy. I also know that he smiles when I do. I guess I’ve got the upper hand here.

I beckon him to come to me, hoping he doesn’t refuse.

He doesn’t, thank Gaia above.

I softly place the flower in his hand, and talk my mouth off when he gives me a confused look.

I tell him the whole story of how I found it, knowing that I’m talking too much, but I’m unable to stop myself.

His breath stops for a moment like he’s afraid to breathe. He grips onto the flower as though it’ll run away, and he is perfectly fixed on the graceful flora.

I hand him the letter as well.

“Why…” he starts, but I shush him.

“Read it.” Is all the explanation I have to offer him. He makes his way over to his bed, letting his entire body weight fall onto the mattress. He unfolds the letter and suddenly I’m abashed at the thought of him reading my words.

He whispers to himself as he reads— he does that quite often. He starts,

To Cloud,

I think the day I first met you I realized the true impact you would have on my life. I felt your aura as though it was my own, wrapping it with the blanket of my own admiration, hoping you would sense mine as well. 

My world is much better with you in it, and I want you to know that no matter what, I’ll be by your side. When I die, look to me in the lifestream and I’ll be there. For it isn’t just me who guides my soul, somehow, by the grace of the planet, it’s you as well. Live with me as you wish, and I will live with you until heaven bleeds dry. [If you’d let me, I’d also love it if you would kiss me again :)]

Happy birthday,

Love, Zack

He settles on my name like a spell, drawing it out like it’s foreign. He shakily sighs and looks up at me with shock.

“Zack, this…” A tear rolls down his cheek. From that one follows two more, and now he’s desperately wiping his face to remove them off of his body.

At once, I’m kneeling in front of him, holding his red, contorted face as he silently cries, letting his tears fall instead of shaming them away.

“Did I…do something wrong—” I start, but he shakes his head.

“No, I just…” He stares down at his hands, closing his eyes to calm himself down. “I can’t believe you wrote this and… and got me the…” He gestures to the flower between hushed sobs, bringing his hands up to rest on top of mine.

“You…love me?” He says. I almost laugh.

“I wouldn’t have kissed you back if I didn’t love you.” Cloud brings his eyes up to mine, lingering in silence.

“I love you, too.” He mutters as he brings his head to my shoulder. “And I’ll take you up on that offer— kissing you.” I laugh into his hair, and we linger there for a while; taking in each other’s presence as the sky fades to black.