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Zack lays in bed—Cloud a line of heat against him—and stares at the ceiling until the light outside the blinds steadily brightens. Some nights Zack’s sleep is riddled with nightmares masquerading as memory, other nights it is entirely beyond his grasp.
With a heavy sigh, he grabs his PHS from the nightstand and sends off a brief message.
Cloud is a deep sleeper nowadays—to his delight or apprehension, depending on the day—and it makes for an easy process of slipping out of his hold without disturbing him. He pulls on his clothing in the still darkness, sheathes the buster sword, pockets his PHS, and grazes his lips across Cloud’s temple before closing the door to their home with a soft click.
~+~
Zack passes through Sector 5 silently, focusing on the steady impact of his boots against the earth. A hum permeates the air as the sun lamps start to come to life and Zack gratefully lets it drown out his restless thoughts.
These nights are hard to shake, a heavy shadow that tails his days, but he’s found ways of coping.
By the time he reaches the outskirts of the house, Aerith is already at work in the garden. Her hair is slightly messy and her clothing looks hastily thrown on; his message must have woken her. An apology coats his tongue but it’s quickly swallowed at the knowing look shot his way. He settles across from her and grabs the basket and trowel she has set aside for him.
Zack has been gardening for a few months now and it’s been helping.
The stream running through the gardens is a balm to his frayed nerves and he can feel the tension seeping from his body with each passing minute. The repetitive process of digging, planting, and covering the bulb with soil helps to settle a piece inside of him that’s been shaking apart for five years.
When he is here, he is tending not only to the earth but to himself.
~+~
“That was a pretty damn good haul,” Aerith says happily, counting the gil they had earned selling flowers to morning commuters at the train station. Zack is wheeling her cart—the very same one from all those years ago—through the zig zagging alleyways to her home.The front wheel is loose, pulls to the left enough to annoy him.
“Yeah, maybe you can use it to buy a new cart.”
Aerith gasps, smacks him lightly on the shoulder and tucks the heavy bag of gil into her jacket. “Excuse you but this has sentimental value. Some meathead helped me build it and I just can’t seem to part with it…”
Zack shakes his head and looks at Aerith from the corner of his eye, sees her wry grin, and lets loose a too-loud laugh for the early hour. Aerith follows suit, bumps her shoulder against his arm and pulls ahead on the path.
They store the cart in a small shed and Aerith slips inside the house to drop off their earnings. Zack leans against one of the posts on the porch, tilts his head back, and breathes in the only fresh air he’s found in all of the slums. The sun lamps are blazing overhead and when Zack closes his eyes, it almost feels like the real thing. The door opens and shuts with a click behind him and Aerith is at his side a moment later.
“You ready for some grub? Tifa makes a mean omelette.”
She’s cleaned up a little; her hair has been braided neatly and the dirt has been scrubbed from her skin, her hands a bright pink. There’s a white flower with narrow petals tucked into the cleavage of her dress and Zack’s eyebrows flick up at the sight.
“Listen, Aerith, as flattering as this is—”
“Oh my god stop!” Aerith pushes him, barely shifting him despite the amount of strength she put behind it. “That ship has sailed and sunk. This is for a lovely lady thank you very much.”
Zack’s laughing, trying to catch his breath, and the weight against his chest he’d felt all night is truly starting to lift. His giggles taper off into a wide grin. “What is it then?”
“It’s jasmine. It means lots of things but today it means ‘beauty’,” Aerith starts towards the bridge but spins on her heels and waggles her eyebrows cheekily. “It can also mean ‘sensuality’ but that’s for tonight.”
Zack snorts, easily catches up with a few long strides and hip checks a laughing, pink-faced Aerith. Their steps are loud against the weathered wood and it takes him a moment to notice the racing of his heart, the way his eyes keep drifting to the foliage around them. “So… do all of these flowers mean something?”
Aerith slows to a stop, a boot on the bottom rung of the ladder as she twists to look at him. He shifts his feet as she merely stares him down, head tilting slightly. She steps down and turns fully, leans back against the ladder and crosses her arms. The bracelets on her wrist reflect the jasmine.
“Yes,” Aerith draws it out, mouth twisting around a barely contained smile. “Is there something you want to say to a certain someone?”
Zack scratches the back of his neck, shoves his hands in his pockets, then scuffs his boot against the ground. He keeps his eyes down and bites his cheek against the faint heat he can feel rising there. “Maybe.”
Aerith’s boots come into view and she bends just a little to peek up at his downturned face. “That’s awfully sweet of you and I’d be more than happy to help.”
She slips her arm through his and guides him across the adjacent bridge and deeper into the garden. “The flowers… they tell me things y’know. That’s how I learned that they hold meaning, every single one.”
Zack hums, curious. The overgrown flower beds border them on either side of the path, petals skimming his legs and arms. They’re soft, second only to Cloud’s fingertips trailing across his skin.
“They’ve helped me put names to the things I’ve been feeling lately,” Aerith extends her free hand and Zack swears the cluster of flowers just beyond her reach sway closer in response. “Hm. Sounds like they want to help you put names to some things too.”
They’ve circled the path and come to a stop, taking a seat on the bridge facing the waterfall with their legs swinging freely. Aerith’s hands are cupped loosely in her lap and she’s lazily rested her head on her shoulder, brows inching ever higher. “How does he make you feel?”
He closes his eyes, lays back against the sun soaked wooden planks, and thinks about the ember in his chest.
He thinks about Cloud, in all that he is and all that he isn’t. His small smile which more often than not gets tucked away and out of sight. The careful way he holds himself around Marlene—cautious but endearingly awkward in his sincerity. The pleased huff he makes when one of Wedge’s cats brushes against him. The unwavering trust in his eyes when they meet Zack’s right before jumping into a fight. The dazed look in his eyes when they had parted from their first kiss and from every kiss since.
There’s an inferno trapped within his rib cage and it burns the back of his throat. He can feel something against his cheek and opens his eyes to find Aerith’s finger poking his face—the corner of his smiling mouth to be precise.
“So?”
Zack exhales, shivers of warmth racing down the length of his body when he taps directly over his heart. “It feels like I carry him with me, right here.”
Aerith’s grin gentles and she closes her own eyes, head tilting as if to catch the tail end of a whisper.
~+~
By the time they open the door to Seventh Heaven and slip inside, Sector 7 is abuzz with activity. Wedge, Jessie, and Biggs are clustered around one of the larger tables with platters of food littering the space between them. Biggs and Wedge are chatting while Jessie leans heavily into the palm of her hand, drowsily scooping food into her mouth.
Barret sits on one of the benches with his back against the wall, legs fully stretched out. He’s nursing a large mug of coffee, his other hand is curled around Marlene who is perched on his lap eating apple slices. She spots Aerith and Zack over the edge of the table and waves, nearly wriggling completely off of Barret’s lap in her excitement. Aerith laughs and wiggles her fingers back while Zack blows her an obnoxiously loud kiss which sends Marlene into a fit of giggles. Barret shakes his head with a little scoff but Zack still catches the twinkle in his eyes.
Tifa is leaning on the bar top, chin in her hands as she stares down at a clipboard. Aerith’s gait becomes looser the closer she gets and she sidles up to the bar and settles across from Tifa, practically melts against the worn wood when Tifa looks up. Zack gets settled a few seats down, bites back a smile when Aerith plucks the jasmine from her dress and tucks it behind Tifa’s ear with ease.
“Hello, lovely,” Aerith says, warm and light. She leans across the bar, propped up on a stool for leverage, and Tifa follows suit. A bright flush blooms across Tifa’s cheeks, red enough to rival her eyes. Aerith whispers something in Tifa’s ear but Zack’s attention is pulled entirely from the lovebirds and onto the creak of the stairs next to the bar.
Cloud comes into view, slightly sleep rumpled but bright eyed as he enters the room. He spots Zack in an instant, shoulders softening and lips curling. Zack’s heart pounds at the sight. Always has.
“Morning,” Cloud’s voice is still rough with sleep as he settles onto the stool next to him. His hair is flat on one side, a parting gift from their pillows no doubt, but it’s silky against his callused hand as he cups Cloud’s jaw. Zack knows he’s pushing his luck doing this here in front of those closest to them but he can’t help himself; Cloud’s eyes are lidded, skin warm and growing warmer beneath his hand as his attention brings color to his cheeks.
“Hey there, sunshine.” Zack’s voice is barely a whisper within the pocket they’ve carved out. Their knees knock together, legs bracketing one another as Zack reels Cloud in; they kiss, Zack greedily inhales the easy sigh that washes over his lips and returns it in full. Cloud’s fully occupied with the unhurried slide of their mouths and doesn’t seem to clock Zack tucking a large red flower with yellow pistils behind his ear.
Zack leans back and looks at him. He basks in the way Cloud follows him like a magnet, eyes still closed, lips and cheeks a near match to the camellia’s color. Cloud is altogether lovely and Zack’s left utterly breathless.
Cloud blinks a few times and glances at the petals skating his periphery, barely brushes his gloved fingers against it. Zack watches, melting further into Cloud’s space when his eyes dart past Zack’s head to the no doubt still entangled couple behind him. He sees when it clicks for Cloud and tamps down the anxiety in his belly. There’s no place for it here.
“I think Aerith said it was a camellia flower? Pretty sure that’s right it, uh, it means ‘you light a flame in my heart’,” Zack can feel the back of his own neck burning as he stumbles over the words but Cloud’s fisting the front of Zack’s top and tugging him forward. Zack wraps him in his arms and he melts into the shield of Zack’s body, effectively blocking him from the majority of the room. The heat of his blush is fever hot against the side of Zack’s neck.
Zack thinks the poor camellia is likely getting crushed against his shoulder but a part of him hopes for it, wants it imprinted into his skin.
Cloud’s head turns beneath his chin, voice muffled against the side of Zack’s neck. “Sap.”
Zack shivers at the brush of lips against his pulse and runs his hand from Cloud’s waist up to the back of his neck. Cloud tilts his head back into Zack’s hold; his eyes are impossibly blue, impossibly tethered to Zack’s every thought and want and wish. Zack presses a light kiss beneath Cloud’s right eye, flower petals tickling his face.
“I love you more, sunshine.”