A/N: I want to know how these two got along! Penelo is about twelve. PS: still haven't beaten the game, no spoilers!
Disclaimer: Not mine, Square-Enix!
Penelo knew her parents would frown at her if they understood what she was feeling—well, what she thought she was feeling. She knew Vaan would stare at her like she was crazy and then proceed to making gagging noises or something mortifyingly childish.
But she couldn't help it. After a lesson of martial arts from her brother she would sit outside behind their house, rubbing her face with a towel and watching the air traffic above her, lost in thought. And then she would hear the door open, laughter, door closing. She would sprint up, embarrassed, sweaty, and hide behind the nearest tree they had in their small city yard.
She would peek out and see him, wearing only a loose pair of pants, his silver hair pushed back with some sort of hair band. His face would suddenly go from light and carefree to determined; his expression stiffened, his eyes focussed, and suddenly Penelo would see him move in a way she was jealous of. Martial arts? What were they compared to the beauty of this boy, dancing through a series of steps with his sword, moving fluidly through the air like he was slicing through the particles themselves? His feet would fly, move back, step lightly sideways; his sword would flash out, retract, parry with an invisible foe, fighting against an enemy he hadn't met yet.
Penelo would be entranced. Why couldn't she move like this boy? Of course, she wasn't in the army, she was just learning a few useful moves from her older brother who was in the army, but he wasn't this beautiful. This boy had a gift, and she watched his muscles ripple and felt a tingle crawl up her spine whenever he lunged forward, nearly shocking her into a gasp. But she always stayed silent; never wanting to break the spell the boy was casting over the entire yard. Her parents felt the same, because they never interrupted his training. Vaan nor her brother would ever step outside when he was practicing, perfecting his art. Because that's how she saw it: an art. It wasn't a way to kill a man, to end a life; it was a dance, and it was perfect and beautiful and Penelo wanted to dance just like him.
But then something would happen underneath the spell he had cast. She would shift unknowingly, her foot asleep underneath her. Leaves in the tree above her would rustle, or she would have to sneeze or cough. He would look her way, the confusion obvious on his face as he struggled to come back into the real world, the dance with his invisible enemy still lingering on his mind. The spell would disappear, and she would hear the air traffic and the people out on the streets once again.
But he would only smile when he recognized her blonde hair peeking out from the tree, and he would usher her over with a little chuckle and a tranquil smile, an accepting smile. Penelo would blush but always went out anyway. And she would always ask him shyly how to do something with the sword, how he did this and that and so-and-so, and she would always watch his endless smile, the calm demeanour he had, and Penelo would always fall more and more in love with Reks every day.