The light shone through the old window, but still managed to make his silver locks sparkle. Held up by a purple, silk bandana, his hair fell perfectly around his pale face. His brown eyes sparkled in the sunlight as he pulled the collar of his vest. The color was like you would see a child use to color the sky, sort of a medium blue. The shirt underneath was stained with blood, covering its tan color with red. His brown gloves lay on the table, folded nicely, but obviously worn. His legs were crossed beside the table, giving one the opportunity to imagine him a rebel. Yet, once he placed the empty coffee cup on the table, he raised his hand politely and ordered another doughnut. As it came he smiled, thanking the girl. The chocolate glaze matched his boots, which were caked with mud and remains of blood.
Why is he covered in blood? He smiled again in the direction of the girl, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Why must he always do that? Locke got up, pushing in the chair as he sauntered over to the girl. As his tall frame sat down on the stool beside her, she could smell the liquor on his breath. His warm breath. His very close breath. The girl jumped back. Smiling, he caught her as she fell off her stool, a yelp escaped her lips. Slowly, time began to freeze around them as he pressed his soft lips to hers, the taste of wine seeping into her mouth. Crap. Pushing him away, the girl noticed something else about his eyes. The red rims were from crying, she knew that, but he had managed to hide them so well she hadn't noticed. He held out a twenty dollar bill, wrapping her delicate fingers around it before helping her up.
"I need your help." His arm snaked around the girl's waist, steadying her from the shock. She looked up at him, expecting something along the lines of 'have sex with me.' But she was wrong. "I've seen you do magic." He whispered in her ear as she tensed. "I wanted to know if you would come help change the world." She froze, memories of Kefka and his prison cells flooded back to her.
"No." Firmly was all she could manage without freaking out completely. He pulled her closer, trying to comfort her. His smell... He smelled like war. Like blood. His smell, one of the things that made him who he was, was covered with the battles he had fought, and was still fighting. "I...I'm sorry..." The girl stuttered, fixing her already-too-low shirt. Smiling, Locke pressed his lips to the exposed flesh of her neck, sending tingles down the girl's spine.
"Please? We need all the help we can get. I promise you won't be alone." She froze. Alone was something she would never be, not again. She would rather die than be alone. She looked directly into his eyes.
Sadness... Can I really trust you? "Alright." He squeezed her tightly to his chest, the joy practically radiating from him. She held up the money he had given her, causing a smile to tug at his lips. Intertwining his fingers with hers, he pulled her out of the bar, towards the air ship.
"You might want to hold onto that a little longer, until tomorrow morning anyways." He winked at her as she fell into step beside him, smiled now lit up both of their faces.