tapping
When it rained in Winhill, it poured. Great torrents would sheet out of the sky, flooding the ground, turning streets to mud, sending water cascading off roofs, into homes, everywhere. When it rained, it was inescapable, and at least once a day, every day, for the entire duration of the storm (from mere hours to days to weeks of thunder and rain and lightning and wind) he would find himself soaked. If by stepping in the wrong puddle, sticking his head out just when you think it's over, by being a fool and dancing in the rain, or by waking up at the bottom of a cliff, loopy with massive head trauma, having just narrowly escaped the jaws of death. Getting drenched was part of living in Winhill.
And, simply because karma's a bitch, it never stayed un-rainy for long. It would be dry for a few days, and then pour again. It was a scientific oddity. He knew because Kiros told him this, and Kiros knew a hell of a lot more than he did. Kiros knew that there was no logical reason for the rain in Winhill, that it should be dryer. But it wasn't. It was wet and it was either so cold he wore three shirts, five socks on each foot, and a blanket, or so humid his hair went all frizzy and Raine made fun of him for caring more about his hair than she did.
It was raining in Winhill.
He was sitting at the bar, all alone because no one wanted to sit with him, and besides, no one was around because they weren't stupid enough to hang around outside in the storm. That, and it was exactly... 2:24 AM.
Ever since he was a kid growing up in Deling City, he had hated thunder. Nothing personal, it just scared the ever-loving daylights out of him, like every other really loud noise. Like machine-gun fire, for instance. When he joined the army, everyone looked at him funny because, well, he hated armies and he'd be surrounded by really loud noises. And he'd be using a machine gun. He claimed it was to get rid of his fear.
Really, he wanted to look macho. It kind of worked, but at the same time didn't, because for the first year and a half that he fought, he flinched like a scared, abused puppy every time he so much as thought about touching the trigger. But then he got over it because he had to, and he felt real good about himself for doing it.
So it really, really pissed him off that he was sitting at the bar, flinching at thunder because he was a man, and was not about to beg Raine to let him curl up next to her like the scared child he was being.
Even Ellone was peacefully asleep.
But noooo... big, bad Galbadian Soldier Laguna was shivering at the window, wishing the rain would go ahead and stop so he could go back to sleep.
He was a complete, absolute, utter, total wimp.
-
It was the incessant tapping from below that woke her up.
Taptaptap... tataptap... taptatatap. It wouldn't have bothered her if it was rhythmic, just a plain tap, tap, tap like normal people awake at 2:30 might make, but no. It had to be random and crazy, which could only mean one thing.
For some unknown, God-forsaken reason, Laguna was awake, and tapping on one of the tables in the bar.
She was going to rip his lungs out.
-
He was tapping. Anything to keep his mind off the thunder. He would steal some of the alcohol on the shelves to get so smashed that the storm vanished into pretty flowers (he had strange dreams when he was drunk, most of which Kiros and Ward knew far too much about thanks to his habit of mumbling in his sleep), but he had already determined that he was a pathetic wimp, and did not want to face the wrath of Raine when she had to drag him to a sharp wakefulness at 7 AM from the bar.
So he tapped. Uncontrollably, staring blankly at the lightning, wishing there was something to do other than tap and stare. But there wasn't. And he was bored.
Tap. Stare. Tap. Stare. He started tapping out his favorite songs into the wood, but that got boring almost as fast as cleaning his gun had (which he really ought to be doing, but it was dark and he hated messing with it when he didn't have to), so he simply went back to tapping random rhythms.
He didn't hear the door open.
-
She had expected him to turn around, or stop that infernal tapping, or at least acknowledge her presence. But he didn't. And she was already in a bad, bad mood.
-
He did, however, feel the vase when it hit his head.
-
Immediately after throwing the vase, she felt bad for it. Just because he was being an annoying idiot did not give her the right to cause him great physical harm, no matter how much he deserved it. But it did, in fact, make him stop tapping and turn around.
"What was that for?"
"What are you doing awake, and why are you tapping your feet like that?"
He stared at her blankly for a long moment. "I was... bored."
Bored. Bored. "You realize I can hear that in my room?"
"I do now."
There was a long silence, and she felt her anger ebbing. She hated that. She couldn't stay mad at him because he was so clueless. He never did anything maliciously, he just didn't realize he was pissing people off. So she always had to forgive him because staying mad at him just wasn't possible. Besides, she'd tried it once, and he'd resorted to making a huge, elaborate dinner and setting it up for her, complete with roses and wine and pretty music (playing from where, she'd never figured out) and practically made her forgive him.
Because there was no way she could possibly be mad at him after that. Only a really horrible person could pull that off, and she liked to pretend she wasn't a really horrible person.
She sighed. "Why don't you just go back to sleep?"
He didn't answer for a long time, rubbing his neck the way he always did when he was nervous. He mumbled something unintelligible and turned back to the bar.
"I'm afraid I didn't hear that."
"I don't like loud noises." He admitted, shoving his face into his arms.
...Wow, Laguna was more a wimp than she thought. "And yet, you were a soldier."
"I thought I was over it! But it's thunder! I hate thunder, okay!"
"Because it hasn't stormed fifty thousand times since you've been here."
"It woke me up this time!"
"Laguna..."
"Don't say it!" She closed her eyes and pictured her bed. Her nice, warm bed with the fluffy pillow and soft blanket and comfy matress just above her, that he had unwittingly dragged her out of. Only now, after the tapping and throwing the vace and trying to talk to Laguna (which in itself gave her a headache), she was unfortunately awake.
There was a noise from above and they both looked up to see a little face peering over the edge of the railing. Ellone.
"Are you done arguing yet? I'm hungry." Laguna somehow got out of his seat and past her before she could even think of a response, and grabbed the little girl around the middle, picked her straight over the railing and hoisted her over his shoulder.
"Whaddaya mean, arguing? We haven't been arguing, have we, Raine?"
Jerk. "No. Not at all." Her sheets might still be warm...
"Then why'd you throw the vase at Uncle Laguna?"
"Because Uncle Laguna was being annoying."
"Hey!"
She shook her head and walked over to the bar. "Well, you're just going to have to wait for food. No one's awake at this time of night."
"Sure they are!" Laguna said, "I saw some lights on in that resteraunt across the street. I think someone showed up, and they had to feed him. Why can't we get in on the action?"
Sending Laguna a glare that would stop a charging Ruby Dragon in its tracks, she looked out the window. Sure enough, lights. "I'm not going out in the storm."
"Then we'll just tell 'em to bring us food. How's that sound, Elle?" She shook her head incredulously.
"You can't just - "
"Yeah!" Ellone shouted from his shoulder.
-
An hour later, among the remains of grudgingly prepared food, Raine was asleep on her arms, while Ellone was curled up in her lap, and the storm wasn't over. He sat still for a moment, looked around, and started tapping his foot.
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(A/N: I wrote this a long time ago, for a LJ claim - most of the writing I did there, in retrospect, really sucked. But aerisofthewhite asked me to write a Laguna/Raine, and I tried, but apparently my muses hate me, so it didn't quite work. I suppose this will have to do. I promise, I will write you something - I will! - but it may take a while. I tend to write better when I'm in school and I'm not supposed to.)