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Cloud squinted his eyes as he tried to read the handwriting; he wasn’t entirely sure he had managed to decipher it correctly at all. Could these scribbles and scrawls be considered writing though? His issue was that the ‘m’s looked like ‘n’s, and he couldn’t tell the difference between the ‘o’s and the ‘a’s, and there were strings of words and numbers that were completely illegible, though he assumed they meant something.
Maybe.
It was hard to know with Yuffie.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, he rubbed his temples in an attempt to ease the tension in his head. And while he was tempted to throw the set of instructions into the trash can, he held back from doing so. Yuffie had been kind enough to purchase a custom hand-crafted crib from one of the most prestigious carpenters in Wutai.
The only problem was that it came unassembled. And that Yuffie was the one who had scribbled what he assumed was the translated instructions on a piece of scrap paper.
She had just showed up one evening to drop off the package and to let him know that there were simple assembly instructions included before disappearing off to her next mission with a wave and a “toodles, Spikey!”
Simple assembly instructions. Right.
He had to give it to her though. The craftsmanship was remarkable, despite it coming in pieces. Designs had been carved into every piece, each part intricately detailed, each stroke precise. It would no doubt be beautiful once assembled, that much was for certain.
Which explained why he’d been sitting in front of the pile of the disassembled crib the last half an hour trying to make sense of these instructions. The one person who could probably actually read the damn thing—and he wasn’t even sure if she was actually capable of reading her own chicken scratch—was currently off doing whatever the hell Reeve had her do these days.
Letting out another huff of annoyance, Cloud leaned back to look up at the fairy lights hung high up on the walls that Aerith had insisted they hang for the festive season. They cast a soft glow across the room, bathing everything in a golden hue. And usually, it brought him a sense of calm, but right now, all he felt was fatigue and irritation.
H e was about two seconds away from setting the instructions up in flames when a knock sounded on the door before it opened up with a small creak. Aerith peered in around the doorway, taking in the scene laid out in front of her.
Her eyes softened as she walked into the room, her bare feet padding lightly against the carpet until she reached the pile of wooden boards and screws that surrounded Cloud.
“Do you…need a hand?” she asked tentatively, looking down at him.
“Can you read chicken scratch?” he grumbled under his breath and waved the instructions over his face in exasperation. “Because I can’t figure out which screws go where.”
Biting her bottom lip, the corners of her lips twitching upwards in amusement, she reached out towards the paper in his hands, and her fingertips brushed the top of his. As Aerith skimmed over the scrap of paper, Cloud watched her eyebrows draw together, and he wondered whether she was able to make sense of it all.
“Well, it’s not… terrible,” she finally said softly, giving him a small smile.
“It’s bad. Especially for someone who probably had penmanship lessons,” he replied dryly as he folded his arms across his chest.
Aerith laughed, the sound tinkling through the air, causing his heart to flutter. She ran a hand through his hair, letting the strands fall gently into her palms as she smiled affectionately down at him. It was hard to keep his eyes opened, with how comfortable it felt to have her fingers running idly through his hair.
“Maybe you could call her and ask?” she suggested lightly.
“Already tried,” he muttered with a shrug and a shake of his head. “Reeve said she’s up north and won’t have reception up there.” Sighing, he rested his chin in his hands before turning his attention back to the piece of paper.
He could feel Aerith’s warm gaze boring a hole in the side of his head, studying him with careful consideration and patience. And then she hummed, soft and melodic, as she leaned over him, her hair cascading forward in waves to tickle his nose.
Cloud inhaled deeply, savouring the fresh smell of flowers in her hair.
Her eyes—bright and green—glimmered with warmth as she smiled down at him. “Well, in that case, I suppose you’ll just have to wait until she’s back for the New Year’s Eve party.”
His brow furrowed slightly. “Party…?”
With a giggle, Aerith dropped a kiss to his forehead and straightened back up. He didn’t miss the way her fingers lingered against his hair, nor did he try to suppress the smile that tugged at his lips. “The party at the bar next week, silly! Or did you forget already?” she teased.
Shaking his head, Cloud pulled himself up onto his knees. “Of course I remembered. But the crib—”
“Can wait,” she finished for him, reaching out and pulling him up to his feet, her hands settling comfortably at his waist. “We won’t need it for a few more months anyway.” At this, she grabbed his hand to lay it over her stomach. It made his heart stutter and leap in his chest when their fingers laced together—when he felt the swell of her belly against his palm. And then she gave him a fond smile, the same one that she seemed to reserve for him—for moments like this, when they were alone.
Despite having had months to grow accustomed to the idea of being a father, he still sometimes couldn’t believe it—wasn’t used to the idea at all. Even after everything that happened, after everything that they’ve been through, he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that there was life growing inside of her, and that he was responsible for the child growing within her.
Excitement would bubble within him whenever he got the chance to feel the little kicks or wiggles against her skin. It always amazed him how such a tiny thing could somehow cause such intense joy that he felt nothing but exhilaration inside him.
But at the same time, it scared him. Terrified him, even.
The fear—of being an incompetent father, of being an inadequate partner, of just not being enough—lurked at the edge of his mind constantly, and it continued to nag at him, threatening to eat away at him whenever he found his thoughts spiralled.
And even now, it lingered.
Almost as if she could read his mind, Aerith turned to look at him, the warmth in her eyes becoming more apparent as he stared at her. She squeezed his hand and offered a gentle smile. “You’re going to be an amazing dad, you know?”
Her thumb trailed over his cheekbone, her fingers lingering behind his ear as she tucked his hair back into place. And then she stood on her tiptoes, closing the distance between them so quickly he barely had any time to register anything besides the feeling of her hands cradling his face as she pressed her lips against his.
Instinctively, his hands slid up to her waist, pulling her close—but not too close. Closing his eyes, he breathed her in eagerly, drinking in her scent as his fingers tangled in the curls at her neck. She tasted like sunshine and summer flowers and…
…was that chocolate?
Pulling away abruptly, Cloud frowned down at her as he struggled to catch his breath, his eyes roaming over her features. He hadn’t noticed until then the smudge of brown at the corner of her mouth. “Did you eat the cookies?”
She had slaved over them earlier this morning—making sure they were perfect—while insisting he not eat another one after taste testing so that there would be enough to bring to Tifa’s for Christmas dinner tonight.
“Maybe?” Her eyes twinkled, flashing with mischief as she pressed her lips into a playful pout. Tilting her head slightly to the left, she looked up at him through long lashes. “I couldn’t resist.”
“Right,” he murmured fondly, unable to keep from smiling when she laughed and leaned into him again. The smudge of chocolate was still on the corner of her mouth, which only encouraged him to steal another kiss, their noses bumping together as she giggled.
He couldn’t remember how many kisses they shared before Aerith broke apart once more, her fingers lingering on his jaw, looking sheepish as she glanced over her own shoulder.
“I want another cookie,” she mumbled, her voice low, cheeks flushing. “Wanna share a few with me?”
“ Aren’t we in charge of bringing dessert?” he teased, hand drifting along her hip, fingertips brushing over the curve of her hip bone. It was impossible to suppress a smile or the warmth in his chest when she grinned up cheekily at him.
“Well, I’m hungry,” she pointed out, eyes wide with feigned innocence as she gazed back up at him. “Besides, they really should’ve known better than to put a pregnant woman in charge of bringing dessert.”
Cloud shook his head and chucked, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “Alright, alright,” he relented, stepping back so they could make their way toward the kitchen. “Guess we can pick up something else on the way to the bar.”
Aerith nodded happily and leaned against him for support, her arm slipping around him. “Oooh… Do you think we could get those peanut butter cookies you picked up from the bakery the other day? Or maybe we can get the strawberry shortcake?” she hummed, more to herself than anything.
Nodding absently, Cloud watched her for a moment, feeling the beginnings of another grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Sure.”
Her smile brightened further, a sparkle in her eyes that took his breath away, and she was almost giddy as she looped her free hand through his elbow. “And maybe some gingerbread cookies.”
“Of course,” he agreed easily, smiling despite himself, his gaze softening as he squeezed her hand. “Anything you want.”
“Anything?” she asked, peering up at him through thick lashes with an impish smile.
“Anything.”
And he meant it because she deserved nothing less. It was on days like these that he wished she truly understood just how much she meant to him—how lucky he was to have her because he knew he could’ve so easily lost her. And there were days he couldn’t help but wonder how bleak his life would’ve turned out if it hadn’t been for her.
She was a ray of sunshine in all his darkest hours, he thanked the lucky stars every day he woke up next to her, arms around her.
“Merry Christmas.” He leaned down once more to press a kiss to her temple, savouring her presence and basking in the feel of her warm body pressed up against his side.
As if she could read his mind, Aerith snuggled closer, her hair tickling against his jaw as she let out a contented sigh.
“Merry Christmas, Cloud.”