Author's Note: Hello, everyone! This is my first fanfiction story ever, so here it is. I hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think about it, if it sucks or if it's good, etc. This is only the introduction to what I hope will be a relatively long (maybe short) fanfic. My inspiration for the plot is a book, that later turned into a movie, but I'm am not telling which yet. Of course, you guys can guess if you want. All I'm going to say about it for now is that I don't own either of those, neither these characters I'm having so much fun with. They all belong to their respective owners.

"No! No! No! That is not what you are supposed to say!" It felt like the thousandth time she had said it in just the short span of two hours—two hours she had spent trying to make them do as she told them.

"But Aerith! We've been here for hours!"

"This is boring. You're not even a real writer."

"First of all, Denzel, this is not boring. We are doing this as a gift for my brother. Second of all, Marlene, we have been here for a little more than an hour. We would've been here even less if only you two learned your lines exactly as I wrote them!"

"But they suck!"

Aerith sighed, trying to calm herself down. It was getting harder and harder each passing minute to deal with the twins and their whining. She had spent weeks sitting in the library reading every edition of Loveless they had, trying to come up with a fitting ending for the literary masterpiece, one that her brother and his friend found worthy of admiration. It frustrated her to no end the lack of respect her cousins were showing her, besides, she was the oldest one of them all. It made sense that they should obey everything she asked of them, especially if the objective was to make her brother feel welcome and happy.

Aerith, deep in her thoughts and calming herself down, failed to notice the dark head and pair of blue eyes that accompanied it peeking through the door.

"Exactly!" Interjected Marlene. "And we're not even real actors. It's impossible to learn all of this before dinner tonight."

"And it sucks!" Added Denzel, making sure his opinion was included in Marlene's logical explanation.

Finally making his presence known, the raven haired boy smugly spoke, "Come on, Denzel. It's not that bad. I actually like it."

Keeping her eyes glued to her copy of the script, Aerith addressed the boy, "Thank you, Zack, but aren't you supposed to be working? What do you want?"

Zack visibly flinched a little. He honestly had no idea why she was so mean to him all of the time. Yes, he was just a humble servant boy. Yes, he spent most of the time teasing her about anything and everything, but it had all been in a vain effort to get her attention. There was no need to throw his unimportant social status so coldly in his face all of the time. He already knew that quite well. He only wished she could see who he truly was behind all of the unimportant factors that made him just a little different from the rest of those she knew.

Unbeknownst to him though, Aerith didn't mean to make him feel bad at all. She just didn't know better than to spit out the first thing that came to her mind whenever he was around. Zack tended to have that effect on her, besides making her heart race and her cheeks burn. She didn't know what it meant only that she didn't like how little control she had over herself once it took over.

"I just finished and thought I'd pass to see how the play was coming along."

"I'm afraid you won't be able to stay and watch. This is a private rehearsal, so if you don't mind—," before she could kick him out

"Your father just finished his meeting. Just thought you'd want to know." His voice sounded so small, so unlike how it did when he first came in, like it usually did. Maybe she had crossed the line this time.

"Right. Thank you," answered Aerith just as awkwardly as she felt. Then she remembered, she had told one of the servants to notify her immediately the instant her father came out of his meeting. Her play had to go through her father first to be sure it was good enough to be presented later during dinner. Before she could ask the current whereabouts of her father, two little voices interrupted her train of thought.

"Oh, thank goodness! Come on Denzel. Let's go tell Tifa how awful Aerith's been."

"What—" Aerith stood from her wooden chair, trying to stop the twins from leaving and tattle telling on her, but her attempt at imposing her authority was completely thrown out the window as said children fled the young tyrant. Aerith remained there, dumbfounded, her mouth opening and closing like a fish as she tried to come up with something to say. She switched her gaze back to Zack, his own blue eyes now full of amusement.

"I'm not awful."

Zack smirked, "I know."

They both heard the twins call from somewhere down the stairs, "Tifa! Tifa!" Zack furrowed his eyebrows a bit as he noticed Aerith flinch visibly. She could practically hear every exaggerated word the twins were twisting to make her look bad, as if she had been keeping them here doing all sorts of hard labor. Aerith took a deep breath to cool her anger a bit before the eminent conversation she was about to have with her sister. Not a second later, both of them turned their heads to the door as they hear Tifa's stumping footsteps up the stairs.

"Aerith?"

"I'm here."

Zack was about to leave when the entrance became obstructed. Now it was his turn to flinch knowing that he was right in the middle of the very possible discussion about to take place between the two ladies.

"Care to explain why the twins were so eager to get away from you? Something about 'no breaks until the play is perfect'?"

"We were only rehearsing, Tifa, and we can't afford to waste time if we expect the play to be ready for tonight." Aerith lowered her eyes to the floor. To anyone else, it would've looked like an act of respect, but Tifa knew that she had only done it to avoid looking at her in the eyes. She didn't even know when or why her little sister developed such a strong feeling of dislike towards her. At first, Tifa had thought it had come from their age difference. When she turned sixteen, Aerith was only eight years old, too young to understand why her older sister no longer played with her. As time passed, and Aerith's attitude towards her worsened, Tifa could still think of nothing as to why their relationship was crumbling to pieces.

"Sweetie, I know you wanted to have everything ready for tonight, but that gives you no excuse to treat your cousins like that. Right now, they are both going through a very hard time. Uncle Barret is getting a divorce, and it's all too much for just two little children to deal with. Try to understand what they're going through, and be nice to them, ok? I'm sure they would be a little more cooperative if you were."

Aerith hated the condescending tone Tifa always used with her. She absolutely hated it, but instead of letting her know how much it bothered her, Aerith just nodded once, still keeping her eyes glued to the floor. Whether the nod meant she understood what she had said and was ok with it, or if it was just a dismissal, Tifa realized it was all she would get from her sister, so she didn't bother to tell her anything else. Remembering that they weren't alone, Tifa turned to address Zack, who hadn't moved an inch since she had entered, probably hoping to become invisible.

"Be ready to help Angeal and his friend when they arrive. I'm sure they'll have lots of luggage to unload," finished Tifa with a small sincere smile.

Zack took that as his cue to leave, but he glanced once more at Aerith before he did. Aerith felt his eyes on her. She lifted her own bright green ones finally making contact. Zack answered with a small smile that caused her cheeks to redden slightly. Thankfully, by the time her blush started to show, Zack had already left the room. Once she had recollected herself, she turned to where Tifa stood searching through her wardrobe.

"What are you doing?"

Tifa turned to where Aerith still stood, "Oh, father asked me to help you pick out a dress for dinner tonight." She kept searching through her dresses to Aerith's discomfort, "Would you like to wear blue or white?"

"I can choose my clothes quite fine by myself, thank you very much,' snapped Aerith. She turned to leave without uttering a single word, if Tifa didn't pick on the message—which was quite clear—then it was her own problem. Her sister knew her quite well to know that was all she would say to let her know how much she detested Tifa's meddling through her affairs as if she were a child. She was already twelve, for goodness' sake!

Tifa could do nothing more than to look at the door, still left gaping wide open, where her sister stomped away through. She winced. She had tried, honestly and truly, but lately her attempts to bond a little with Aerith backfired every single time, putting even more distance between them.

Sighing, Tifa walked to the window in Aerith's room. It was a beautiful day—bright, sunny, and awfully hot. Perfect to go out for a swim. It was August, the warmest month of summer, and yet the best for all the wild flowers blooming across their estate.

"Hm, maybe Angeal would like it if I brought some to his room," she mused out loud. Tifa let out a quiet chuckle. Angeal wasn't the biggest fan of flowers, but it was the perfect excuse to go out to look for some, or maybe a certain someone known to also be a servant in their family with blonde hair.