Chapter Text
This memory returns every so often… and the inevitable in re-living it. Vivid as if she had just experienced it recently, but it was now a distant memory, over eight years have passed since then.
The scenery the exact same, every time this memory surfaces in her dreams…
Aboard the airship, the Palamecia, where Kajol’s current Commodore’s quarters were once a place she hung out in, not lived in. The color scheme was once home to an earthy and soft grey palette. Soft brown fur rugs and an actual Snow Lion pelt draped at the end of the partially made queen sized bed. A worn but cared for burgundy couch that was once at the end of the bed. The room was relatively small, but spacious in comparison to the quarters the other Dragoons and their passengers had to stay in. An elevated shoebox, Kajol once said.
The balcony door always cracked open, allowing for a nice breeze to circulate through the room.
The smell of cloves… a smell that only ever belonged to one person outside of the kitchen. Once haunting wolf-like amber eyes, always managed to warm her spirit. That angular, chiseled face, with the glowing ebony skin and muscular expanse of his body. All the hard work of being a greatsword and great axe wielder one would provide. His wolfish grin and boisterous, earth-shattering laughter that would follow. A name that she knew all too well.
The way she would squeal in excitement saying his name, how her bubbling aggravation would spike her into yelling it in frustration, even when she would coo his name in adoration and moan it in the throes of passion. The way when she was freshly eighteen and he was about to turn nineteen and the pair opted to elope after one life threatening mission made them realize they couldn't lose each other. An adrenaline (and hormonal) charged decision by two terrified adult teenage mercenaries, but they thought they would make it forever. She thought he would last forever with her...
Hamza.
“You know what Kajol, I think I have you all figured out!” Hamza declared boldly as he wagged his finger in excitement about that proclamation.
An indignant huff before a small chortle came as she, the Kajol in question, asked “How so, Hamza?” As she observed him fully reclined on his luxurious second-hand couch. The book Till Death Do Us…Not Part rested on his BabyBahamut t-shirt with the intentionally V-neck cut… from the shaky scissor work.
“Please tell me it has nothing to do with the book you are reading…” Kajol grimaced some as she sat comfortably on the floor, observing him with her comfortable Tonberry pajamas with the chef’s knife scattered asymmetrically.
“No!” The Commodore gasped, then paused.
“Okay a little bit…” Hamza conceded as he observed Kajol’s face slowly form a disgusted look.
“I know you aren’t… fond of Zenith, but hear me out!” He prefaces and holds one hand up in defense, since the eye roll from the sorceress wasn’t enough to justify his claims.
He opened his mouth, only to lick his lips and then began, “I know that because of the whole sorceress thing, you keep your distance from people getting to know you. It creates a barrier that allows you to be in control—to navigate how everything goes, including if they can be privy to that type of information. I keep drawing parallels between you and Zenith because you remind me a lot of her.” His features were tender when he spoke of her, his amber eyes maintained eye contact with hers.
“She has a stern, almost mother-like way about her. She takes care of those she enjoys spending time with, makes sure everyone is together, even when her 100% isn’t reached,” He leaned up to sit properly on the couch, setting the book down beside him.
“You know I don’t need a mom, I already have one… who likes you.” He grins his toothy grin as his eyes sparkled in endearment as he approached the topic he wanted to get to, “I like you too, a lot actually, as you know. Zenith sheds all of that once she finds that she’s comfortable with someone she truly loves, she lets her hair down, she is free-spirited and can convey that deepest love to that person.”
Kajol felt her cheeks warm, but also couldn’t help but feel the hairs on the back of her neck begin to stand.
“I think you don’t like Zenith because she can authentically be herself, fully, because you can’t in the world we’re in.” She didn’t want to admit that he hit the nail on the head, so she was close to start bluffing, but… one can’t do that when the person in front of them is Hamza Samara. Not Galbadia’s Best Teddy Bear.
“You know I’m not asking if I can be your knight, but I am asking if you can be my girlfriend and sincerely let me in?” He held his hand out as she took it.
He was warm, his hand was moisturized but the calluses were forming from all the wielding he does with his great axe, Sleipnir.
Let me in . The words echoed.
Her smile, slow as it formed, but sincere as she rose from her place on the floor and opted to sit on one of Hamza’s strong thighs instead. She knew her gaze was intense, but he didn’t care since he always complimented her eyes. As long as they belonged to her, he didn’t care.
“Is this how you ask me to date you, Commodore Samara?” Brow arched, cheekily as she opted to wrap her arms around his neck.
“Pfft… well, I hope so? Do-do I-I need to be more direct? I thought I did real good!” Despite his stammering, Hamza finished out strong as he puffed out his strong chest. Trying to inflate his confidence though it was easy to poke it with a thumbnail.
“You did, Beloved,” She leans forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Buuut… being exact is preferred.”
Hamza was about to short circuit underneath her as he could barely form thoughts, but he closed his eyes. “Will you, Qudairah Zaman, be my girlfriend?”
A click of her tongue after she pursed her lips as she shared, “Your eyes should be open, Hamza.” It was fun to tease him a little bit.
As he slowly opened his eyes, he repeated his question but with more certainty. The confidence helped when he saw she was still smiling.
“Yes, my beloved, Hamza. I would love to be your girlfriend.” His palm was sweaty at this point, but he remedied that with a noise of excitement before he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her sincerely.
They embraced for an insurmountable amount of time, before slowly withdrawing their lips from one another. Hamza’s amber eyes were like a dimmed fire, but they glimmered in adoration. His smile and sentimental expression ingrained in her memory, with the following words, “I will make you the happiest woman alive.” A sincerity that causes her own heart to bloom with fondness.
Kajol was one for responding with something equally romantic, but for once she beamed. With a cheekily added, “You better, otherwise your mom will be upset.”
Hamza snorted due to the truthfulness of that comment and the weight of how that mattered. “Let’s not disappoint her, I don’t want another earful.” He winced, even if Kajol opted to pepper his face with kisses.
This memory holds so much happiness… and it loves to make re-appearances within her dreams.