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It was one of those rare times where Zack didn’t know what to say.
Silence continued its humid reign as he sat there beside the older SOLDIER, watching Sephiroth stare into his lap with those hollow green eyes, silver hair spilling over his shoulders in stringy, tarnished rivers that pooled onto the sofa cushions below. Nothing about his expression had changed from the moment he invited him over back in Lazard’s office, which Sephiroth had unofficially adopted as his own ever since the Director had gone up and left. Left just like rest of them; half of the lower class SOLDIERs, Genesis, Angeal... they were all gone, and now they were Gaia knows where. Not that it mattered where, anyway, when he was just starting to believe that they were coming back.
In Sephiroth’s case, he had long swallowed that pill.
Silence beating overhead, Zack bit down on his lip, wishing with all his heart that he knew what to say—what would be comforting... healing. But maybe there was just nothing to say that could really solace himself and Sephiroth. Maybe it was only twisting the knife, all those times he tried to assure himself that he could bring the others home, bring them back to former selves. Maybe it really was a lost cause, as serrated as a truth that was to bear. Maybe it was time to stop being delusional; maybe it was time to stop being so naive, juvenile. Maybe he really was trying to chase an unattainable dream.
Maybe... maybe he should start focusing on what he had now, rather than what he had already lost.
“Sephiroth.”
When Zack finally spoke, he spoke delicately, and it was then that Sephiroth turned his gaze from the skin-toned plaster on the wall to face him.
And Zack stared into those emerald windows, staring at the aching reflection of a soul behind its fractured glass.
And it was then that he saw just how filled those hollow eyes really were.
“...I’m here, buddy...” he said, he whispered, hardly even realizing the colloquial term slipping from his lips. “I’m... I’m still here.”
Not a hope, not a prayer, not a hollow assurance...
A fact.
A truth.
A hidden, unspoken vow.
He could see the flicker in Sephiroth’s eyes, the slight flutter in his soul as, for a fragile and fleeting moment, it set those emeralds alight again.
“...Yes,” he murmured. “You are.”
There was something about the response... something about its ethereal softness that softened Zack’s own lips into a smile, a burst of warmth sparking like velvet coals in his chest. “And you’re here, too.”
Sephiroth waited a few beats, pensive. “I am...” he finally said, or maybe finally realized, repeating the words with more weight: “I am.”
It looked like the man wanted to do something after that, but didn’t know how, didn’t know what. Like he wanted something, wanted to ask something; his eyes flickered, feline pupils briefly expanding, looking into his own with something truly and wholly vulnerable.
He didn’t know what to do, what to say, unsure of what to even say himself... so Zack did what he thought would be best in that delicate, tender moment.
And spoke without saying any words at all.
He closed his eyes as he did it, letting them fall gently shut as he leaned forward on the couch, wanting nothing more than to simply feel the warmth—the closeness—when he pressed his temple against his friend’s. Just a simple touch, not too hard... but enough pressure to let him know that he was right here, by his side, to create a little pocket of protection where their imploding world couldn’t reach them, where they had each other... and never had to worry about a thing.
Only a single beat passed before he felt Sephiroth lean into the touch, silver strands falling like feathers against his cheeks.
“...Let’s make a promise... okay?”
“Sepppppph. Turn off the light already!”
Soft, melodic chuckles rang through the cozy air of the bedroom, and a tumble of glistening locks spilled over the blanket as Sephiroth rolled onto his side, extinguishing the lamp’s gentle illumination. He rolled back to Zack with an amused smile, closing his book and setting it on the nightstand.
“I was almost finished with the chapter.”
“It’s 11:36!” Zack laughed with a quick glance at the clock, then slumped back into the sheets in a groggy plop, nestling deep into his pillow as he sighed, “g’night, bud. Sleep tight.”
“...Excuse me,” came Sephiroth’s amused, expecting reply. “Are you not forgetting something?”
Zack murmured something unintelligible. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite?”
“...No,” Sephiroth chuckled, wrapping his arms around the younger man, nuzzling into his neck. “Do we not have our ritual?”
In an instant, Zack’s eyes cracked open, and he shifted lazily around in his treasured friend’s arms to flash him a warm, knowing smile.
They both closed their eyes when they did it, letting them fall gently shut as they leaned forward against the pillow, wanting nothing more to feel the warmth—the closeness—when they pressed their foreheads together. Just a simple touch, not too hard... but enough pressure to let the other know that they were right there, by their side, to create a little pocket of protection where their imploding world couldn’t reach them, where they had each other, and never had to worry about a thing.
“...You and me.”
Harmonious, practiced, true...
A vow.
Gently, Zack opened his eyes, planting a sleepy kiss against the ivory skin of his partner’s cheek, long and doting, a black cowlick brushing against the man’s temple. “I love you so much...” he murmured, nuzzling into Seph’s neck, sinking into the cocoon of protective warmth as Seph pillowed his chin against his hair, holding him close.
“Sleep well. I’ll be right here.”