A small one-shot. This idea is nagging me however, and it may eventually spring about as a new story, with the basic idea presented here in mind.
Also, I hope you do not mind me asking, but if anyone is willing to check out my other story, Worth Saving, it would be greatly appreciated. I'm excited for the project and would love some feedback. Sorry for asking, but...it's hard to get readers when you write a family/drama. But thank you for hearing my question.
Slight AU. Angst. Read on, and I hope you enjoy it.
His slender body is flush against hers, pushing her against the wall and leaving trails of hot kisses down her neck. Silver locks mingle with strawberry blonde, green eyes on soft blue, before she grabs him down by his collar and drags him to the bed.
She means it today.
Hope grins and kisses her lips, shuddering when he feels her smile against him before her hands slide down his chest. Her hands fumble with his buttons and she giggles when Hope breathes into her ear. His hands linger on her sides, feather touches leaving fires in their wake.
"Serah," Hope mutters, silencing her oncoming answer with a kiss. Her hands move to his back, as if to hold him on top of her, and Hope's hands slide to her wrists, pulling them up to have better access to her neck.
She breaks for air; gulps it down in greedy bursts, her eyes flashing. Hope's heart skips but she wriggles her wrists from his hands and props herself on her elbows. Her lips are centimeters from his own, and when she speaks, they just barely touch. "What am I to you?"
The question catches him and his mind reels to find an answer. His mouth speaks before his head, "I could ask you the same thing."
Serah smiles again. Hope gulps when the white blouse that had just dangled off her shoulder finally falls. He glimpses her black bra and smooth, glowing skin, heat threading up his spine before bursting in his neck. He opens his mouth to say something. Anything.
She kisses him before he can utter sound. The words melt into moans and the fog billows the thoughts from his mind. Briefly, he hears her say, "Fair enough," but it's lost when she tilts his head back and latches to his neck.
Soon they are lost in tangled white sheets, sweat, hot breaths and guilt.
Hope's eyes snap open as the alarm buzzes for the sixth time. His arms flail, missing the snooze button and slamming against the corner of the table. "Oh-fu-" Hope sucks in his breath, glancing behind him before biting his thumb and letting out a silent scream.
So much for sleep. He runs a tired hand over his thin face, eyes blanking on the white ceiling above him. The bed threatens to swallow him whole, but as he glances at the clock and actually recognizes the numbers, he sighs and sits up.
"Class in a few hours," Hope mumbles to himself. He blinks hard, willing away the grains of sleep from his eyes before swinging his legs over the bed. He glances at Serah's body, half-wrapped in the sheets and blankets. He watches her body move up and down with each breath, her hips peeking just above hastily thrown on pajama bottoms.
"Hey, Hope," she says, making him jump. She giggles, shaking her head as Hope's heart slows. Hope rolls his eyes and leans against the headboard, scratching his head.
"You're trying to give me a heart attack, aren't you?" Hope says, sticking his tongue at her when she laughs.
"No, but it's funny to watch you get so flustered."
Hope hums, watching Serah sit up and stretch. His eyes follow the curve of her body as she curls an arm around her waist, the other reaching above her head. Her eyes are half-lidded and thick with sleep, and Hope catches some dark spots of skin. The places he had marked her with lips and tongue are not lost to the passing of hours.
Something in his stomach tightens and warms at the sight. He licks his lips and suppresses a growl; grins, despite himself.
"What are you smiling about?" she asks, watching him closely.
Hope shrugs, snapping his eyes away. He pushes himself from the bed, stumbling a bit on his feet. He blushes, grabbing the table to steady himself. His voice is airy when he speaks. "You hungry? I'll make you something."
"You're so sweet," Serah says before falling back into the bed. "Just don't burn the pan again."
"I won't, I won't." Hope sighs, heading out the bedroom and toward the kitchen, Serah's words echoing in his head.
"...don't burn the pan again."
Hope slows as he approaches the fridge, his body shivering as his bare feet hit the tiled floor. Absently, he pulls the fridge open, grabbing eggs, milk, and cheese from inside.
We'll need more milk soon. And she's getting scrambled eggs, they're the only kind I don't screw up.
...huh...
"Why am I even worrying about this?" Hope asks himself, shaking his head and going to the floor cupboard for a bowl and pan. He pauses when he hits the counter, setting the utensils down and staring hard at the clean white surface.
I know this place so well now. I mean... I'm here more than Snow, aren't I?
Hope narrows his eyes at the thought. His chest tightens; twinges with something hot. Bitterness and guilt rise as one, lumping in his throat as he starts the eggs. His body moves automatically, his head tilting to the door when it creaks. Serah emerges as he pours the mix into the pan, the sizzle making him jump.
"I can drive you down to the college, if you want." Serah's voice is light and she sends him a warm smile. Hope's chest loosens and he nods, unable to find his voice.
"What am I to you?"
Serah's words still ring from last night, and Hope finds himself lost in search of the answer.
"Watch out! It'll burn." Hope startles when Serah's hand covers his own, guiding him back over the burner and lowering the heat with the stove knob. She shakes her head, eyes bright. "And you forgot butter again!"
"S-sorry."
Hope's thoughts jumble, lost in words that meant nothing in the heat and sweat and kisses, but now seemed like everything the morning after.
His old thoughts on love and his new ones are mixed. Caught between soft and hard blue eyes. Someone who so rarely smiles and someone who always manages the act. One sister that keeps him at a distance.
One that is more than willing to lean in close.
But it's way different for Serah. Lightning and I...we never.
But she and Snow-
I don't get it.
"What's wrong, Hope?" Hope blinks at the click of the stove knob, breathing hard when Serah wraps her arms around him. He glances over her head at the burnt eggs, swallowing.
"Sorry."
"They're just eggs, Hope."
He shakes his head and closes his eyes, as if the darkness of his eyelids would make the answer clearer. He wants to ask the question she shot at him in passing, but fears his own answer as much as his own.
"Serah," Then try a different tactic, Estheim. "What are we?"
We. Us. These two.
It's different than one, right?
Serah backs away and Hope shudders at the loss of warmth. Notices, not for the first time, that he's at least three inches taller than her now. And that the crook of his neck is her favorite place to nest her face.
His favorite place, too.
She fits...perfectly. How does she do that? How can she be so-so-
Her eyes continue bore into his, narrowing with each silent second, and it's these moments that leave him most confused. When Serah looks the most like Lightning. When she is hard and annoyed and tired of waiting.
The tightening in his chest is not lost to him, and he gazes at Serah.
Is that why she chose me? Because I hardly look like Snow?
"I-" His eyes dart up to hers, and he tries to find the meaning in the mutter. Instead, he catches the quivering behind her irises.
Her agitation at the question gives way to rising panic at her own quiet. Her own lack of the right answers.
His eyes stray to the band around her finger and the necklace hanging from her neck. Her eyes follow his. They both picture the blond man that gave them to her.
Both feel the crushing pressure of his absence.
"I-I'm not really sure."
But the words are flying between them, shouted by their eyes. Shooting back and forth like a tennis match and each one seems to fit.
An affair. Friends with benefits. Cheaters. Liars. Seven-Night standers.
"...lovers." She whispers the word and Hope's heart explodes. Breaks apart in his chest, the remnants beating wildly in his ribcage. His head spins and he can't catch himself, doesn't want to catch himself. But he sees the dawning fear in Serah's eyes. The horror creeping into her face and the silent screams dropping from her parted lips.
Hope's chest clenches and he grabs her by the arms and shoves her into his chest. Rests his chin on top of her and breathes, shushing her when she tries to speak and rocking her back and forth. He kisses the top of her head and yanks at the fear he saw in her eyes; reaches for it and snaps its neck. She shakes her head over and over, trying to mutter even though her voice is broken.
Eventually these protests die and she wraps her arms around him, returning his embrace. The eggs are forgotten, the pan already burned, and Hope carries Serah to her room.
Later, Serah drives Hope to college. She kisses him on the forehead and giggles when Hope catches up with some friends. Smiles when they compliment his girlfriend, a loud whisper meant for her.
Sobs when she is a mile away, alone and torn in two.
There is no band on her finger.
No necklace resting on her chest.