*A/N: I'd never thought I'd ever do this, but here I am. It's been a long while since I've written anything, so I may be a bit rusty; I apologize. This is a short LightningxFang (or FangxLightning) fic, and it was inspired by a FangxLightning fan video, which was inspired by the song, "Recessional," by Vienna Teng. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Final Fantasy and/or Square Enix. This is simply a work of fiction.


Everything and Nothing
Written by Q. Tempest (Neptune Scar)

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She is looking at me, front-and-center—and all that I know is a lie.

With just her eyes, alone, she shatters my defences. My stone walls and iron shields are nothing compared to her single penetrative gaze; they crack, crumble, and fall, and their uselessness makes itself apparent to me. It's a sore disappointment, for they'd always helped me before. But they're useless now, reduced to nothing but rubble in her presence, and lay scattered and shamed at my feet. The hushed silver that colours her eyes is strengthened by dark lashes, heavy and smouldering. With those eyes, she looks both at and through me. But how? For so long, I'd thought I was opaque, but she proves my translucency. I'm as clear as crystal to her... I cower under those eyes—inwardly, mind you. I can't let her see more than she already has.

But she is looking at me. And I find that I can't turn away. The thought sets off, like a deafening alarm, and rings through my head, relentlessly: "Lightning, you fool—get out of here!" It screams at me, scorning and chiding me as if I were some naughty child. Another voice urges me to move, to fight this. But I can't. Instead, I stand here, immobilized, almost afraid. Does she see it—the thing that I had tried so hard to keep hidden? It threatens to betray and escape me, drawn out by her roguish smirk.

I thought I knew everything, and in this moment, I realize I know nothing, nothing at all. She moves towards me, now, that ever-confident swagger in her step. Her tousled dark hair follows behind her, and I notice that it had caught a glimmer of the fading sun. The pavement projects the sound of her footsteps, and each one seems to echo and reverberate around me, trapping and keeping me here. With each step, she draws nearer, her footsteps increasing in their sureness and boldness. She knows—and my stillness pushes her ever on, closer towards me. Odd for someone like me to not put up a fight.

I look down for a moment, a nervous gasp on the edge of my mouth. A moment hadn't even passed before I look up again—and there she is, right in front of me, her grey eyes shimmering, brilliantly. Without willing it to do so, my heart-rate quickens, and I can almost feel the vile thing leap right up into my throat. Our gazes meet—and I see that she's won. Defences completely shattered, my shoulders give a visible slump, and I do nothing but concede defeat. At least, let me have that honour; this is a battle I surely can't win.

I feel my eyelids begin to droop to a close, as her face moves in closer to mine. Her breath is warm, and I can feel it ghosting, lightly, across my lips. She's waiting, teasing out my resolve even further. I let out an agitated sigh, my breath mingling, anxiously, with hers. Why is she doing this? Can't she see she's already won? She seems to find amusement in my frustration, evident by that impish chuckle buried low in her throat. It irritates—yet is alluring to me.

No longer able to withstand it, I close the diminishing space between us, pressing my lips against hers in an act of desperation. To my surprise, I find that her lips are both everything and nothing like I had envisioned them to be. But they're here now, nonetheless, warm and supple. She smiles against me before responding with a kiss of her own. It's sweet and gentle—a direct contradiction to the outward image that she projects. It's admirable.

But it's not enough. I kiss her again, almost hungrily, feeling every ounce of my waning resolve wash away. I find I don't need it. Not now, anyway.