AN: I don't own anything.
She was beautiful, pure-everything his mother appreciated in a woman. But there was something else too.
A mischievous glint in her bright green eyes, playful, full of life and defiance just below the persona of innocence that was irresistible to the black haired swordsman.
He grinned, waving at the girl who gestured back at him in passing. Her smile was one of knowing, teasing, making the butterflies in his stomach flutter. A basket of flowers, yellow white, bright and protruding against the grimy and litter filled streets in the slums of Midgar.
He didn't know her name, he thought as he walked over to the flower girl. But, he'd like to know.