Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own FF XIII in any way, shape or form. Just borrowing parts of it for my fic(s).
A/N: Just a small fic I scribbled before heading to work one day. Lightly based on a letter I wrote for my girlfriend a while back, changed it a bit to fit better with this pairing. This is my second fic, much shorter than my first but with much more fluff as someone had said in a PM that he/she wanted more of that – so here it is! It may not have much to do with the Final Fantasy XIII-universe other than two characters, but I'm hoping you'll like it nonetheless. Without further ado, I present to you: "Good morning".
She woke up from a dream she had, slowly opening her eyes to adjust to the brightness of the room. At first she had tried to remember what she had dreamt about but her efforts were futile, her mind simply not allowing her to remember, as if to protect her from something. Her focus shifts to the ceiling, eyes wandering between all the cracks in the paint that form a mighty river up above. As she glances to the right, the tired soldier notices a placid figure cuddled up next to her, the early morning sunlight that has managed to find its way in through the curtains gently brushing the bare back. A small smile finds its way to her lips as she looks at the young man sleeping ever so peacefully, before she gathers some strength and gets up, puts on her blue robe made from the finest silk, and begins her journey to the kitchen, the cold parquet floor creaking with each step she takes.
As she got to the kitchen, she noticed a letter lying on the kitchen table they had just bought earlier this week. It was a brown letter, rolled up and held together with a pink bow, the same color as her delicate hair. With slight curiosity, her soft fingers slowly begin rolling it up. She reads the letter in a low tone, almost as if whispering to herself.
"You are not aware of what a source of inspiration you are to me, and try as you might, you may never truly understand just how high I hold you or how close to my heart I have you. You are not aware of how you give me the will and energy to better myself as a human; how you get me to strive to be like you.
No amount of words can truly explain just how happy you have made me, but if you will grant me the privilege, I will dedicate my life to try and show you, and make you as happy as you have made me.
Thanks to you I have come to the insight that sometimes you must carry on through hardships, no matter how scary they might seem; that you can't give up in the face of despair. You have taught me the importance of never giving up; that there is always hope.
And all of this you have accomplished with such ease, simply by living your life the way you do. And for that I thank you, my muse, my love."
Just as she had finished reading the letter, she is surprised by a pair of arms wrapping themselves around her stomach, a warm breath brushing against her neck. She lets out a deep breath when she feels a pair of warm lips on her neck, slowly moving upwards until they are gently nibbling on her left ear. The soldier turns around to meet his emerald eyes looking straight at her with such love and care, making her pale cheeks turn a faint red, something not many have had the privilege of ever witnessing. He is now slightly taller than her, she notes, forcing her to look up a bit to meet his eyes.
His hands move up to caress her blushing cheeks as he leans in for a kiss. They close their eyes as their lips meet, gently massaging each other's upper and lower lips as if teasing each other. He could feel her chest pressing against his, her hair brushing against his cheeks. She could feel his tongue touching hers ever so lightly, as if pleading for an entrance. She parts her soft lips and immediately feels a warm pressure on her tongue. She lets out a soft, feminine groan, sending vibrations through both their bodies, before she starts playing with his tongue. They are both lost in each other for a moment before suddenly breaking apart, panting for air, both of them breathing heavily onto each other's faces. A short silence falls upon them before it is broken by the young man who grabs her delicate hands in his, pulls her a little closer to him and with a faint smile on his lips says:
"Good morning, Claire."
A smile, heartfelt and genuine, appears on her soft, pink lips, still moist from the kiss they had just shared, as she looks at the silver-haired love of her life, gently whispering back:
"Good morning to you too, Hope."