Tea wasn't her forte.
Actually, scratch that— cooking wasn't nor will ever be Lightning's forte.
Especially when she was cooking or making tea and the occasional hot chocolate for her sister, the master chef of the house. To be honest, and the soldier knew it was silly, but she actually felt slightly intimidated when preparing a meal or something as simple as a drink for the younger Farron. Something about how she would eye Light's method of cooking or the way she poured a drink, not to mention the face she would make when trying out something the soldier made (a flash of disappointment before being quickly replaced with one of gratefulness and gratitude— though Lightning often saw right through it).
Nonetheless, Serah did have a tendency to overwork herself, thus causing herself to come down with something, be it a fever, a nasty cough, the sniffles, or itchy eyes.
And guess who had to take the next few days off from Guardian Corps training to make sure she was alright and didn't try to work herself more?
With a small sigh and a light brush of strawberry bangs from her face, the nineteen year old shut off the stove, poured the steaming liquid into Serah's favorite cup— which she had been "convinced" to buy for her last year, through persistent urging and nudging— and held it carefully down the hallway from the kitchen. The small bag of green tea sat in the bottom of the cup, it's contents being dissolved into the hot water as Lightning took slow, easy steps up the staircase of their peanut-shaped home, the steps creaking ever so slightly under her weight.
The pink-haired soldier winced as she neared Serah's bedroom door, dreading the small, lithe coughs coming from the younger Farron. When her sister would get sick, she would get sick; Lightning was just thankful that her bedroom was right across from Serah's.
"Serah?" The young woman gently spoke, her tone soft and cautious, unlike her usual loud, fierce voice used for training. There was slump under the light green sheets, shifting slowly at the sound of its name being uttered.
She also slept like a Bahamut when she was sick.
The door creaked quietly, Light's house slippers shuffling across the room to reach her bedside table to set down the steaming, fuschia mug. Glad to finally had gotten her tea delivered, the elder Farron reached for the sheets smoothly, expecting no reaction from the her ill sibling. Just as she predicted, Serah had barely twitched once the covers were removed from her head, instead being tucked around her shoulders as go not cause too much heat to gather at her face.
Other than the occasional sniffle, Serah looked to have a mild fever. However, Light knew she must have been feeling extremely ill, because only in a million years would she willingly skip school (and yet, not even a million years). The soldier found herself smiling towards her, a hand absentmindedly reaching down to brush some light strawberry bangs from her shut eyes.
This is all for her, a voice nagged Lightning as she let her hand fall back to her side. All for the girl who still gave Light a reason to smile, to laugh, to fight. If Serah had perished along with her parents, the soldier honestly did not know if she would have even survived being alone.
If her parents hadn't passed, however, would she and Serah still be as close as they were?
Pale cerulean eyes swept over the colorful picture frames hanging above the cream colored bedpost, memories tucked within each frame. The day she and Serah had visited the beach, the day the younger had graduated junior high, Light's inauguration into the Guardian Corps, a picnic that they both vaguely remembered with their parents. In each memory, there was never one without the other, it was simply Serah and Claire, the Farron sisters are at it again, there those two strawberries go again, oh look, with matching ribbons today. Light never let her stray or run off, it was always where she could see or at least have the comforting knowing where she was. It was likewise for Serah, Claire never seemed to wander off without letting the younger know where she was going or what she was going to do.
It was simply comforting for both to have the knowledge that they'd never go astray without each other. This truly was all for Serah, Lightning— no, Claire told herself at that moment.
Forgetting the harsh exterior for one second, one quick, flash of a second, the elder sibling leaned down and brushed some strands from her forehead, planting a sweet peck before tucking the sheets again, ensuring maximum warmth for her next few hours of sleep.
Also deciding to return the cup of tea to the kitchen for the time being, Lightning smoothly shut the door to her sister's room and ventured back to the kitchen, setting the mug next to the stove. She'd heat it back up once Serah awoke.
For the day, she decided, she'd give up Lightning, the sister with the military work and the icy stare. No, today, she'd be Claire, the sister with the warm, half smile and protective yet warm exterior.
After all, it was all for Serah.
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