Chapter Text
It's just after dinner when the sunlight stretches low and far, creating large patches of light across the garden floor. He's stepped outside to find Aerith as she went missing sometime before dessert. He supposes (hopes, that she hasn't wandered off or she's hurt or the Turks found her or—) she's somewhere amongst all these blooms. He just has to find her.
Elmyra had him up to his elbows in soap suds washing dishes, delaying his search. That, along with the scents and smells of a home cooked meal and the cosy atmosphere of the house made it almost feel like being home again.
Almost.
It's a lot less lonely here, though. He thinks his mother would have liked this place. He likes this place. And it's a shame because he'll be gone by midnight.
There's no point getting attached now.
He shakes his head and remembers why he's even out here at all.
The path meanders around the garden and he ambles along it searching for that distinctive ribbon or any shade of pink. It's not until he turns a corner that he sees her and all his breath leaves him in a rush.
There, in a patch of sunlight and grass (and please let there be no blood) lays Aeirth's strewn form, pale and uncharacteristically motionless.
His feet are moving before his mind catches up with them because he's still processing the sight in front of him; that this is real and that she's—
His knees hit the ground next to Aerith and he's about to call her name, shake her, anything to get her to open her eyes but something stops him. Something's off.
He pauses, breathless, and it's then that he hears the tiny, light snores coming from her and realises she's just asleep.
Asleep, and alive.
He collapses back to sit on the ground and sighs heavily in both relief and at the absurdity of the situation.
He's only known this girl for a day and yet she's already giving him heart attacks.
The shaking of his hands becomes known to him and he fists them in the grass to stop their trembling. The effect she has on him is a visceral thing and he brerates himself for letting it get to him so much.
As his heartbeat slows from it's panic beat he sits there awhile and stews in his thoughts.
He can't… leave. It would be a failure of his bodyguard duties to allow her to sleep out here unprotected. Plus, when he thinks about it, he's never seen her so still before. All day she's been bright and bubbly and animated in all the ways Cloud is not. He takes this quiet moment to observe her—just to make sure she truly is alright.
He's her bodyguard after all. He can't be too careful.
A quick assessment proves that there are no visible wounds or broken bones. He scans her head for any contusion and gets distracted by her long, dark lashes brushing her cheeks. He notes how the sun is shining directly onto her face so he holds out his hand to shade her eyes from the sun as she sleeps.
Waking up to a beam of sunlight in your eyes wouldn't be nice.
This however gives focus to her lips and how pink they are and Cloud stares like an idiot until he gets his sense back and watches the garden instead.
The results of his analysis conclude that: she is uninjured and very pretty and he wants to kiss her.
The facts are: he has to leave and Aerith can't go with him.
He sighs.
Don't get emotionally attached is clearly a mission failure.
Slowly, the sunlight moves and makes it's way around the garden enough that Aerith is no longer blanketed in sunlight and he can lower his hand back down. When he does so, he doesn't realise how close he's leaning over her until Aerith pokes an eye open and he can see every speckle of color that her iris contains in HD.
It has him startling back so badly that he probably crushes a few flowers on the way.
"Were you going to…" she puckers her lips and Cloud catches onto her meaning all too quickly. That doesn't stop him from avoiding the question completely.
"H-how long have you been awake?"
She sits up, smirks, and eyes him with fake contempt.
"Since the earthquake that happened right next to my ear and the big gasp and—"
"Alright. I get it," he grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose.
He's a fool. She's been aware nearly the whole time and he—
With a shake of his head he lounges an arm off one knee in a practiced act of looking cool, but after a moment he relaxes his posture.
"So? Why were you napping out here anyway?"
"Oh, well..." She turns her gaze to the flowers and laughs at herself. "I was waiting so long for them to say something that I guess I fell asleep."
Said flowers are innocently stirring in wind, unbothered by their guests, and he glares at them for their silent treatment.
With a sigh, he stands up and holds out his hand for her to take. Aerith bites at her lip and looks up at him.
"C'mon. Your mom saved you a slice of pie."
"Pumpkin?"
"Pumpkin."
He swears Aeirth's eyes sparkle with delight when she takes his offered hand and he pulls her to her feet. They're bright with that same mirth much, much later when she ambushes him on his way out of the sector. At midnight, their light is like stars.
It seems that he won't be going alone after all.