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My first fanfic. EVA. Second POV. Roxette ( my fave couple, besides Cloud & Aeris, ofcourse).
. . . FLUFFAY to the max. Generic. I hope you guys like.
Note: Hime, if you are reading this, which I know undoubtedly know you must be . . . I demand for the love of Cheerios that you update your Naminaxas fic, Love Letter. Cheerios, Hime, Cheerios. And when I say Cheerios you know I'm dead serious. xd
Disclaimer: Be thankful pitiful mortals. :p
Such a Cliché
. . . it had been inevitable, really.
☆Roxette
- - -
Falling in love with your best friend is such a cliché, you would be mortified if you weren't so in love with her. In truth, you never gave her much thought as a potential romantic partner, except perhaps in hypothetical contemplation when you weren't able to sleep at night. Lesbians use sex as precursor to friendship, but you never thought the reverse would be true with her. You've always just thought of her as your attractive, but slightly high-strung best friend. And really, they're all your best friends, Hayner, Pence, and Olette. They were practically family, which made this whole falling in love with her thing a little weirder, because while you never considered Olette to be like a sister, you certainly never thought of her as a potential lover. You always thought she was beautiful, but somehow, you just started seeing her in a different way. It kind of snuck up on you. She's pretty, yes, but let's face it, she's a little like a mother, and you're more cautious and melancholy. She's just kind of a dork, but sometimes your aloofness and her dorkiness did not quite intersect in a compatible way.
When she got that haircut, you couldn't stop thinking about the way she looked, how she just seemed more confident in her own skin. You've always wanted that for her. When she was with Riku, you were shocked to realize you were jealous. But you wanted her to be happy, so you let it go. But soon your suspicions of Riku grew, and you just couldn't stand back and watch Olette make a mistake. You thought Olette might stay with Riku anyway, despite your misgivings, but you just wanted to make them known.
When you dropped by that night, you had a whole list of things you wanted to say. There were plenty of rational, sensible reasons, like the fact that she'd only known Riku a short period of time and that Riku may not be quite as trustworthy as Olette hoped. But when Olette stared at you with those emerald eyes asking you for an answer, you forgot everything you planned to say and acted on instinct. You kissed her, and she kissed you back.
You got what you wanted, more or less. Riku is out of the picture and Olette is sleeping naked on her side next to you. Her hand is on your stomach and your hand is placed over hers. You're lying on your back, staring at the ceiling, wondering how you got to this place. It's not such a bad place to be in, but it still feels a little weird and you're not entirely comfortable with it. Maybe it just gets some getting used to, but it worries you there's anything to get used to in the first place. And you wonder if she'll be happy with you, and if things will work out between the two of you. You wonder what she'll do when she figures out you're not as strong or confident as you pretend to be. You get so insecure, you irritate yourself. What if she stops liking you once she knows what you can really be like? She knows you better than almost anyone else, but there are still parts of you that you keep hidden from her because she doesn't have to know them. What if she ends up hating you?
"Roxas?"
You turn your head and you realize she's staring at you.
"What are you thinking about?" she asks you softly, green eyes searching yours. Her head is tilted to one side cutely, earthy-brown tresses cascading down one pale, milky shoulder gently. You have never seen anyone more beautiful.
"What?" you ask, startled. You didn't realize she was awake. When did that happen? You must have been lost in thought because you're usually more attuned to her.
She touches your face, gently. She's always so gentle. It's one of the things you love most about her. Even when she has hurt you, wounded your feelings and twisted your heart in her hands, you never held it against her. There's nothing mean or sneaky about Olette. She's one of the few people in the world you trust implicitly because you can't imagine her deliberately hurting anyone. She strokes your face and you close your eyes, sighing softly.
"What are you thinking about?" she repeats. "You look so serious."
"Nothing important," you try to assure her. You just want this moment to stay this way. You don't want to mess it up with all your insecurities and unwarranted worries. You treasure these moments, when it's just you and her, and it's peaceful and quiet and you're both just comfortable and happy. You touch her face. You've touched her face many times now, and you've memorized the way it feels, the way the planes of her face slope and curve, but every time you touch her, it feels new somehow. You don't know how that could be, because when you're apart from her, and you look at the picture of her on your desk, you can remember the way her face feels in your hands, but somehow, when you actually touch her, you get that little shiver people get when they experience something wonderful for the first time. "I love you," you tell her softly, because it's true. You've loved her for a long time, although admittedly, you have no idea when it was you fell love with her. You think it was probably building up for a long time, but you don't know how long.
"Really?" she asks you, and she looks at you a little dubiously. She runs a hand through your spiky-golden hair, holding your gaze all the while. You feel like you are bared beneath her jade stare, naked and vulnerable. You feel like she is staring into your soul. Olette has always been perceptive when it comes to these things. "You look worried. Is something bothering you?"
This is definitely the best relationship you've ever been in. You've been in love a few times before, and while you don't mean to or even want to diminish those relationships in any way, it was never like this. You've never felt loved the way Olette loves you. When you've fallen in love, you've always been sure of your love for the other person, but you were always in doubt about the love her or she had for you. Now with Olette, you can feel she loves you. You don't really doubt that, as insecure and scared as you are. You have doubts about how long she'll love you for, but you do believe she loves you, and that's a definite change for the better.
"Nothing is bothering me," you tell her. It's not quite a lie. Well, maybe a little. But not really. It's really something you need to process on your own for a while and you just want this moment to stay the way it is.
"Really?" she asks again.
She's giving you this look, and you wish you could take a picture or record it with a camcorder, because you want to capture it forever, but you know that it'll always be imprinted on your heart. You want to cry because she's giving you this look like she really cares and no one has ever looked at you like that. But you don't cry. Instead, you feel your lips curve into a smile so large that you think your face is going to crack. "Really," you whisper. One of your hands moves down to her collarbone and you trace your initials there.
She smiles back at you, and you think for the countless time, how much you love her smile. "If something were bothering you," she says, "you'd tell me wouldn't you?"
"Sure," you say, though you feel a little guilty. When you were growing up, you learned fairly early on that no one cared about your problems but you. Your mother was always too preoccupied with her own life to really care about yours, and though you adore and love your mother, you've always known you could never go to her if you had a problem. Your brother, Cloud, is a little older than you, just enough so that you were his bratty little brother whose problems paled in comparison to his. You learned you couldn't depend on him after he lost her, after he lost Aerith. He functions like a robot now and keeps to himself, never really the same. Regularly, you bemoan your petty problems, but when it comes to the major ones, you've always just depended on yourself.
"Because sometimes I get the feeling that you wouldn't," Olette tells you eagerly, "and I don't want that. I want to be the person you go to when something is bothering you. I want this to be like a real relationship. A grown-up relationship with all the sharing and growing and love, you know, Roxas?"
You laugh a little because it's not the most elegant declaration of love you've ever heard, but it is definitely the most sincere, and the only one you've ever believed. "I do know," you say, grinning at her, and holding her hand. "I would go to you," you assure her, deciding that once you rolled your thoughts around in your head, you would talk to her. It's just the way you operate.
She still looks at you uncertainly, like she doesn't really believe it. And you realize she could be just as insecure and unsure as you about this relationship. There is definitely a lot at stake for both of you. "I know I'm not good at giving helpful advice like Pence or high-spirited like Hayner," Olette says softly, "but if anything were ever bothering you, I'd want to help."
The look on her face, that self-deprecating look where she thinks she's not good enough makes you want to laugh. On the contrary, it's the other way around. You grasp her face in both your hands. "I would go to you," you tell her softly. "If I ever had a problem, you would be the one I would go to, okay, Olette? In this whole, big world, I love and trust you more than anyone else."
She laughs a little, and you wish you had a tape recorder. She doesn't say anything, she just laughs a little and kisses you.
Then she snuggles into you a little, and wraps her legs around you. "Let's go back to sleep," she says. She yawns.
You smile and wrap your arms around her. "Okay," you whisper.
"I love you," she tells you.
"I love you, too."
So here you are, lying in bed, your limbs entangled with your girlfriend. Your best friend. Falling in love with your best friend is such a cliché, you'd be embarrassed for yourself if it weren't for the fact that you think it was probably the best thing you could have ever done for yourself.