Here's a oneshot that sort-of ties in with Aftermath, but can also be read independently. A friend suggested that I write a little about Hope and Lightning's "domestic life" so I decided to give it a try. It was also inspired by the fact that I had to do a lot of furniture shopping a month ago, which was probably quite a painful experience for my parents. Plus writing this gave me a chance to play with Lightning's post-Lumina personality a little! As a result this might have ended up becoming really OOC, but please do R&R regardless!
(also for those who are following Judicium, I'm currently working on the next chapter - it's almost done!)
Disclaimer: I do not own FFXIII or its characters.
Furniture
Moving in with Hope turned out to be a bigger ordeal than either of them could ever have expected. Hope in particular had never realized how uninhabitable his apartment was until Lightning's arrival, at which point it became apparent to him that he practically lived in a garage. There were more packed boxes than unpacked items, and most of them had been dumped offhandedly in his spare bedroom. As a result, the room itself contained no furniture…not that there was space for any in the first place.
The two of them spent a week sorting through the boxes. During this time, however, Lightning had no place to sleep, and so she and Hope often argued about her sleeping arrangements.
"I can't let you take the couch, Claire," he insisted every time. "It's really uncomfortable for a long-term stay. Trust me, I've done it."
"Then just let me sleep on the floor," she said, but Hope would have none of that either.
"You're my guest – just take my bed. I want you to have it."
"It's a big bed. I don't see why we can't just share," she retorted with a huff.
At this, Hope's face turned red. "I-it's too small for the both of us!" he stuttered, and then dismissed the conversation with a wave of his hand. "…take the bed. Please."
But no amount of pleading ever swayed Lightning, and she always ended up winning. And so, after a week of her sleeping on the couch, he finally made a decision.
"Let's get you a bed," he announced one Friday morning at breakfast. For once, they were both up early, though the stony look on Lightning's face said that she would much rather still be asleep.
"Where did that come from?" she asked groggily while munching on a piece of toast. "Our current arrangement seems fine to me."
"I don't like it…the idea of you being out on the couch, I mean," he replied. "The second room is a lot cleaner now than it was a week ago, we could probably fit a bed in."
She swallowed. "I don't think that's necessary. Besides, I already gave you an alternative, and you didn't take it." She smirked as she saw his cheeks turn pink in response.
"L-let's just go shopping this weekend, okay? I'd feel a lot better." He fixed her with a pleading look, and she finally relented with a sigh.
"Fine," she said. "But trust me, you're not going to enjoy it."
He simply shrugged, unconcerned. Shopping with Lightning did not seem like it would be a trying experience. After all, as a soldier, she had been conditioned to make solid decisions that would be to the benefit of everyone involved in the long-run. He was sure that he had nothing to worry about.
Three hours and eight furniture stores later, Hope found himself regretting his decision.
"How difficult can it be to pick a bed?!" he said to himself as he drove them towards the next store. His muttered comment earned him a slap on the arm from Lightning, who was sitting right next to him.
"You brought this on yourself, you know," she sighed. "Even Serah could've told you that I'm the worst person to shop for. Or with."
He kept his gaze trained firmly ahead, refusing to give in. "I'm sure you'll find something at the next one."
But he was wrong again.
"It's too short. My legs would be dangling off the edge."
"The headboard isn't tall enough."
"I'd probably fall off the side – I roll around in my sleep and this one isn't very wide."
"That colour wouldn't match the rest of your furniture anyway."
He rubbed his temples in frustration. This was turning out to be one of the most difficult things he had ever done. 'As a last resort, we might have to have one custom-made…'
Only three shops remained in the entire city, and as they drove towards the next one, Hope couldn't help but wonder whether she was doing this on purpose.
"I think we should call it a day, Claire," he finally said, looking up from their current store's furniture catalogue. In just a few hours' time he had managed to pick up on her taste in furniture, and he could tell that nothing in the last eight books he had skimmed through would be of any interest to her.
"…Claire?" he repeated, standing up when there was no reply. It was not a large store, so she was definitely not out of earshot. Just as he began to look around, he heard her voice call out in response from an adjoining room. And imagine his surprise when he heard her speak five magic words:
"I think I've found something."
Without a moment's hesitation, he jogged towards her and found himself stopping short of an old, worn-down bed frame. It looked like it was generations old – probably an "antique" – but Lightning was staring at it with a look of fascination on her face.
"Is this the one?" he asked, trying to keep the incredulity out of his tone. He could not imagine what she saw in an ancient bed like this one. But to his surprise, she nodded.
"Look at the carvings on the headboard," she said, pointing them out as she spoke. Hope moved closer and ran his hand along the flowers carved into the wood. They were beautiful, but at the same time they did not seem particularly special to him.
She walked around the bed and stood on the other side, placing a hand atop the headboard. "You're probably wondering why I'd choose a run-down old bed like this one. And considering the way I've been running you around town all day, I wouldn't be surprised if you think I'm just messing with you."
He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off before he could speak.
"This bed…it reminds me of the one Serah and I used to sleep in when we were little." She let out a short laugh. "It was the only piece of furniture we had that really didn't fit in with the rest of our décor."
Then, she smiled wistfully. "When our mother was still alive, she'd sing us to sleep. And when we grew older, the two of us would stay up and trace the patterns on the wood together. It's still one of my fondest memories."
As Lightning placed a hand over her heart, he began to understand. Deep in her heart, Lightning still did not feel comfortable burdening him with her presence in his house (even though his feelings were completely the opposite), and so she had spent the whole day rejecting newer, fancier, potentially more expensive beds. But this one had struck a chord with her – it was a fragment from a past that she would never be able to experience again. And Hope would not let go of this chance.
"We'll take it," he told the store manager, who immediately ran off to look for a packed piece. Lightning looked at him in surprise, but he simply smiled back. "You liked it, so why not?"
"Thank you," she told him, her gratitude clearly reflected in her eyes. It was hard to believe that she had been entirely against this idea just a few hours ago.
At that moment, the manager returned with a worried expression on his face. "Sir, it appears we may have a slight problem regarding the delivery of this item…"
Hope's eyes grew wide. 'That can't be good.'
"So, here we are."
Lightning's deadpan voice cut through the darkness and silence that had befallen them. Hope hid his face in his arm, blushing wildly.
"Don't look at me…"
As the bed had been an antique, and one-of-its-kind, the deliverymen had deemed it impossible to dismantle. Since Hope's car was not big enough to accommodate the whole thing, the store had offered to deliver the bed themselves. However, due to their existing delivery workload and the supposed "maintenance" that they would need to carry out, which Hope suspected was just adding another coat of varnish, the bed would only be delivered in a week's time. And since he had made Lightning promise not to sleep on the couch again, he had been forced to accept her alternative suggestion.
Which had eventually resulted in a red-faced Hope and a very smug Lightning sharing his bed.
"It's your fault for forcing me into that stupid promise," she told him, but the smirk was evident in her tone even as he rolled over so he was facing away from her.
"Now I definitely think you did this on purpose," he groaned, trying to shift into a more comfortable sleeping position yet again. "I told you there isn't enough room for the two of us."
He could practically see her rolling her eyes when she said, "There's plenty of room if you just move closer, Hope. Trust me; I won't kick you off the bed in my sleep."
"That's not what I'm worried about…"
"Idiot," he heard her huff. "We've been together for weeks now. The least you could do is turn around and face me."
Taking her words to heart, he flipped around abruptly only to find himself nose-to-nose with Lightning. To his surprise, however, her cheeks were stained pink as well.
"It's embarrassing for me, too," she whispered, averting her gaze. "But I guess it's something we both need to get used to eventually."
He sighed. "You're right. I guess we both have our juvenile streaks, huh?"
She pulled an arm out from under the comforter and smacked him on the shoulder. "Speak for yourself, Mr. Estheim. When have I ever acted juvenile?"
"All the time, Claire," he yawned, finally relenting and wrapping an arm around her. "All the time."
The last words he heard before falling asleep were, "We'll see about that."
The next morning, Hope found himself lying on the floor. The morning after that, Lightning ended up on the floor. And that night, the two of them spent hours restlessly tugging the covers back and forth in their sleep. However, in the days that followed, they subconsciously drifted into some sort of routine. If either of them ever awoke in the middle of the night, they would find that they had pulled each other closer in their sleep – Lightning learned that she tended to grab him by the collar, while Hope often clutched at the back of her shirt when she was facing away from him. This resulted in a series of ridiculous sleeping positions and a ton of initial complaints from both parties.
But despite everything, neither of them could deny the fact that they were both sleeping much better than they ever had before.
In a week's time, the bed was delivered and set up in the spare room. It looked well out of place when compared with the rest of his apartment, but Lightning was satisfied with it regardless.
"So…I guess I'll have to get used to sleeping here from now on," she said, pacing around the room to observe the bed at different angles.
"Trust me, it'll be much better than the couch," Hope offered. "You still like it, don't you?"
Lightning nodded without hesitation. "Of course – it's beautiful. Thanks again, Hope."
She appeared to be lost in thought, and so he decided to leave her alone for a few moments. "You're welcome," he said softly, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.
That night, as Hope closed his book and prepared to turn in, he heard a soft knock on his door. Surprised, he opened it to reveal a frustrated Lightning
"I don't like the mattress," she declared suddenly. "It's lumpy, and it isn't very soft, either."
He stared at her blankly for a few seconds, and she raised an eyebrow expectantly. When realisation finally dawned upon him, he pulled the door open and gestured for her to come in.
After all, it was an arrangement that worked for both of them.
Extra:
"So when should we go mattress-hunting?"
She tucked the covers around herself and turned away from him. "Anytime's fine. I'll just crash here until then."
He tapped his chin in mock thought, although he knew she could not see it. "How about…Tuesday?"
"I have an interview that day."
"Wednesday morning?"
"Don't want to wake up early."
"…Friday evening?"
"Not with all that traffic."
"How about next weekend?"
She rolled over and met his gaze. "You're still teaching me how to drive, aren't you?"
"…you have a point."
Hope switched off the light. They remained in silence for a few moments before he spoke again.
"…let's just convert the spare room into a guest bedroom."
"Sounds good to me."