I found this draft lying unfinished in my writing folder, so I decided to wrap it up and post it. This was an idea that came to me a few months ago when I was thinking about clichés, and before I knew it I'd written up more than half of it. I've been a little out of touch with Hoperai lately, but apparently that didn't stop me from finishing this fic, and conveniently just in time for Valentine's Day! Please enjoy, and do let me know what you think :D
Disclaimer: I do not own FFXIII or its characters.
Age
It all began when Hope appeared at her doorstep one afternoon, looking slightly flustered.
"Hey Light, can I borrow your toolkit? Apparently Snow broke the nightstand when he got out of bed this morning."
"Sure, come on in." She gestured to him to enter her home before turning on her heel and leaving the room in pursuit of the object. Hope slipped off his shoes and followed her inside.
"This is the second time this week, isn't it?" she muttered as she combed through the cupboards in the hallway. "That oaf really needs to learn how to handle himself inside a normal-sized house."
He chuckled in response. "You've got a point, but I'm sure he means well. They just moved in a few months ago, after all."
Lightning shut the cabinet doors and walked towards the kitchen. "And you moved with them, didn't you? How's the new place?"
"It could still use some work, but I guess that's our fault. We haven't had enough time to unpack, so most of our things are still in boxes. It's no wonder Snow has trouble getting around."
He crossed his arms and sighed. "It's okay for now, but I swear if he keeps this up, we're probably gonna need to remodel soon."
Lightning smiled. After the Fall, Serah and Snow had gotten married, and since Hope had found himself with nowhere to go, they had taken the boy in. Although she and Hope had once shared a mutual resentment for Snow, he had managed to grow out of it more easily than she ever would. And now, even five years later, he treated the burly man like an older brother.
She, on the other hand, had chosen to move into a house of her own, not wanting to intrude on her sister's domestic life with her new husband. Sazh and Dajh regularly kept in touch, even bringing her food after hearing about her infamously terribly cooking skills. But they all had their own lives now, intertwined as they were, and despite herself, she often found herself longing for their earlier days as l'Cie.
Lightning was pulled from her thoughts when her fingertips brushed against the surface of a smooth plastic box. She stood on her tiptoes, and sure enough, it was the toolbox she had been searching for, sitting on the highest shelf in one of her kitchen cupboards.
"I found it, Hope," she called out, and within moments, he was by her side, looking up at the object in question.
"Why would you keep it all the way up there?" he asked, frowning. "I thought toolkits needed to be accessible."
She lowered herself to the ground, allowing her heels to rest on the floor for a split second before pushing herself up on her toes again. "Unlike my brother-in-law, I don't go around breaking things every other day," she said, her tone laced with exertion as she reached for the box with her right arm. "And besides, if I do end up destroying something, it'll be in here. Kitchens have always had it out for me."
This time, Hope let out a laugh. "I'm sure it's just you, Light. Here, let me help."
Before Lightning could respond, he stepped forward and reached for the toolkit, his frame easily towering over hers as he grabbed the box with his hands. It was in that instant that a crucial fact suddenly popped into her mind – one that, for some reason, had taken her years to notice.
'He's gotten taller than me. Much taller.'
This realisation, coupled with his close proximity as he lowered the box to rest it atop the kitchen counter, brought about a strange reaction in Lightning. Her cheeks began to grow warm, and her heart thudded heavily in her chest.
'What the hell is happening to me?!'
"Here, that wasn't so ba–Light, is something wrong?"
He gave her a confused look, tilting his head slightly and raising an eyebrow. She had seen that expression on him so many times before, even when he was younger, and yet it was only now that she realised how different it looked on him five years later. Back then it had been endearing, and it was true even now…only in a completely different way.
When she did not respond, Hope leaned back, biting his lip in contemplation. After a moment of consideration, he raised a hand and flicked her on the forehead.
The gesture snapped her out of her thoughts instantly. "What the hell, Hope?!" she exclaimed, ignoring the way his eyes lit up with mirth at her reaction.
"Sorry, I couldn't resist," he said, raising his hands in a defensive gesture while grinning triumphantly. "You did it to me once before, so I wanted to know what it felt like to be on the giving end for once."
She gingerly rubbed the sore spot against her forehead, scowling miserably. "Didn't you get what you came for? I've got more important things to do."
"Ah, right!" He nodded and grabbed the toolkit off the counter. "I should really get going. Serah said she wanted the nightstand fixed before bedtime."
The corner of her lip twitched upwards. 'So he's my sister's handyman now?'
"Oh, and I'll bring this back once I'm done with it."
At his mention of the toolkit, the memory of him reaching over her shoulder flashed in her mind once again, and she snapped her head downwards, choosing to look at the floor instead of his face. "J-just tell Serah that she can keep it."
Hope shrugged. "Whatever you say." And with that, he turned around and left the room.
She waited for the sound of his footsteps to fade before following him into the hallway and to the front door. Leaning against the wall, she watched as he slipped his shoes on with his free hand and then stood up to his full height. And as he stepped out the door, she found herself wondering when his shoulders had gotten so broad.
'He's growing up…he's changing, and I can't do a thing about it. And maybe…maybe I'm changing, too.'
Silently, she chewed on her lower lip.
'And I don't know if that's a good thing.'
Ever since the first "toolkit incident", as she had secretly dubbed it, Lightning found herself feeling uncomfortable in Hope's presence. She treated him as she always did, but inwardly, she noted that she was now more self-conscious around him, constantly forcing herself to think before speaking or doing anything whenever he was around. Hope was her friend above all else, and one of the few people around whom she could truly be herself. So the sudden change in their relationship, even though it was one-sided, made her feel terrible.
'It's not his fault…and I know I'll get over this eventually. I just hope he hasn't noticed…'
But realising that she was beginning to see him in a different light was only the first step – coming to terms with her newfound feelings was another matter in itself. And it did not help that he had suddenly begun to land up at her house at least three times a week, each time with a different excuse.
"I'm really sorry to barge in like this, Light, but Serah wanted me to come over and borrow some pans for dinner this weekend. You're coming too, right?"
"Snow walked all over our flowerbeds…you wouldn't happen to have a shovel, would you?"
"I think Serah misplaced her keys. Could I have your spare?"
As the weeks passed, Lightning grew increasingly frustrated. It seemed as though the universe was conspiring against her by forcing her to interact with him more than usual. It was not as though she did not enjoy his company, but the confusion brewing in her heart was getting harder and harder to ignore.
When a familiar knock sounded against her front door yet again one Sunday afternoon, she let out a defeated groan. Untying the apron she had fastened around her waist, she turned the stove off and stepped out of the kitchen, making her way to the front door. And as expected, Hope stood in the doorway, wearing a tired look on his face.
"Got something else to borrow?" she asked him straightforwardly, placing a hand on her waist. He nodded solemnly, muttering the word "toolkit" under his breath, and she stepped aside to allow him room to enter.
"I know this is the fourth time this week, but Snow broke something again," he said with a frown as he followed her towards the kitchen. "Serah keeps sending me here, and I don't understand why. I get the feeling she just wants someone to check up on you every now and then."
Lightning did not turn around. 'So it's Serah's fault, huh? But I don't need anyone to check up on me…what in the world is she thinking?'
"You don't seem too happy about this," she remarked, remembering how exhausted he had looked at her doorstep. "It must be annoying for you to have to come all this way so many times a week." Even as she spoke, a part of her wished for her words not to be true.
"That isn't the problem, Light. I always enjoy visiting you." His response calmed her heart. "It's just…I'm still sleepy, and Serah dragged me out of bed because she thought this was really important."
She placed a hand against her forehead. 'Seriously, what the hell does my sister think she's doing?!'
"That's not fair of her," she offered sympathetically. "Don't your classes keep you busy all week?"
He placed a hand behind his head. "Actually, my exams ended last week. Once my grades are out, I'll officially be New Eden University's youngest graduate."
"Congratulations, then." A smile made its way onto her face. Small-talk seemed much easier now. Maybe Serah had noticed her acting uncomfortable around Hope and decided to send him over more often so she could get used to his presence again. Or maybe their constant string of accidents was no more than a coincidence. Either way, she was beginning to feel grateful for her sister's actions.
When they entered the kitchen, Lightning grabbed her apron and fastened it around her waist yet again. "You know where to find the toolkit, right? Take it to Serah, and then go back to bed. You look exhausted."
She walked up to the stove, where her most recent attempt at lunch was still simmering, and lifted the lid to stir the contents. She expected Hope to take the box and leave in a hurry, eager to get back to sleep. What she did not expect was for him to come up behind her and glance over her shoulder to watch what she was doing.
"Wow, Light, I never thought I'd actually get to see you cook," he said with a laugh. "What is that, anyway?"
She tried to ignore the way the heat rushed to her cheeks, both due to embarrassment at him seeing her cooking and at his nearness. "Gorgonopsid stew," she replied as nonchalantly as she could manage. "Behemoths are a pain to hunt these days."
Hope made a face. "Sounds gross, but smells great. I don't know what to think."
Lightning did not respond. He continued to stand behind her and observe as she stirred the pot, until she finally gave up. With her free hand, she turned off the stove and whipped around to ask him what he was still doing-
With a gasp, she realised that her face was inches away from his neck. Frozen in place, she could do nothing but wait as he reached for the toolkit on the shelf above the stove. In one smooth movement, most likely due to his height advantage, he brought the box down and placed it on the floor, stretching out his arm again only to shut the cabinet door.
"I was waiting for you to finish," he explained, embarrassed. "You moved it to this shelf after the last time I returned it, remember? But I still think you should keep it somewhere more accessible..."
He had not stepped back, and she was still half-leaning against the front of the stove. He was looking down at her as he spoke, his cheeks flushed slightly, and she found herself fighting the uncontrollable urge to do something, anything-
"Light? You're zoning out again. Is something wro-"
Without thinking, she stretched herself up onto her toes and leaned forward, pressing her mouth against his.
In that instant, she lost her balance and braced her hands against his shoulders. Hope stumbled backwards, both due to the surprise and the added weight, yet somehow managed to keep himself upright. But he did not move a muscle, even as Lightning pulled back and lowered herself back onto the ground. A look of horror immediately made its way onto her face, and she raised a trembling hand to her mouth in shock.
"I-I'm sorry…" she stuttered, taking a step back. Her face burned with embarrassment and she looked away, refusing to meet his gaze. "I don't know what came over me…"
When he did not respond, she chanced a glance at him. His cheeks were pink, and he had raised a hand to his mouth as well, his expression now mirroring hers.
"Light, I…" he managed to choke out before shaking his head. "I don't…why?"
It was the same question that was plaguing her thoughts at that very moment. She tried to come up with a way to justify herself, but all she managed to say was, "You were too close."
He looked at her with confusion in his eyes. "W-what?"
Lightning's mind drew a complete blank. "You were too close," she repeated, trying and failing to give him an indignant look.
"You could've just asked me to move-"
"That's not it," she cut in, determined to get her point across despite not fully understanding it herself. "You were standing right there…you were close, and…I didn't want you to leave," she finally admitted, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Light…" he began hesitantly. "Does that mean what I think it does…?"
"I don't know," she replied, stubbornly refusing to look at his face. "All I know is…you're not the kid you used to be. And I'm starting to see that now."
They stood there in silence for a whole minute, and Lightning felt her heart sinking within her chest. 'Now I've just gone and made things awkward between us. He probably thinks I'm creepy as hell.'
"You know…when I was fourteen, I had a pretty big crush on you, Light."
His quiet admission took her by surprise and made her look up. Hope was watching her, a faint blush on his cheeks.
"You'd protected me, and even taught me how to fight," he continued. "I wanted to return the favour…so I told myself that I would protect you, too. But after staying with you, I got to know you better…and eventually, I realised that I had feelings for you."
She narrowed her eyes. "Why…why didn't you tell me?"
"I wanted to, but I was afraid you'd push me away," he confessed, his blush deepening. "I thought it was just a childish crush…that it'd go away eventually. So I've been ignoring it all this time."
Despite herself, Lightning smiled faintly. "So we both lied to ourselves and to each other so we could keep up this awkward friendship?"
"Hey, it wasn't that bad, was it?" he countered, but when she raised an eyebrow, he sighed in defeat, resigning them both to silence once again.
"What…does this make us now?" she finally whispered, meeting his gaze with uncertainty in her eyes.
Hope hesitated for a moment. Then, he shyly reached forward and took one of her hands, clasping it firmly between both of his. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "But, I…I'd like us to find out, together."
Her face turned beet red, and before she could control herself, she blurted out, "Did you get that line from one of those romance novels Serah leaves lying around?!"
He froze, and she wondered whether her response had insulted him. But then, he let out a gasp of a laugh.
"She really needs to stop doing that," he wheezed. "I can never resist picking them up."
Lightning raised an eyebrow, but smiled at his admission. Her hand was still in his, and she took a chance by stepping closer. "I guess we'll find out together then," she told him.
"R-really?!"
She nodded. "Yeah."
His smile grew wider, stretching across his face in a toothy grin. "Then, can you do me a favour, Light?"
"What is it?"
"Could you…kiss me again?" He blushed. "I guess…it still hasn't sunk in yet."
She bit back a grin, and leaned forward. "I think I can manage that," she whispered, before reaching up and touching her lips to his.