disclaimer. FF13 trilogy&characters © SQUARE ENIX
warning. you won't find graphic sexy times here but they will be cute af
a/n. when you're so desperate for L/V content that you dig up your own stories for inspiration… except I don't think I can write like that ever again :(
love (reprise)
When the world had ended, you were with everyone. Now that the world has begun, you are alone.
But it's okay; nothing to fear. Life is all about adventures.
So you decide to hop on a train—let it take you on an adventure of endless possibilities.
.
.
First stop.
When you step off the train, a cool breeze caresses your cheeks. You brush your pink locks away from your face, pushing them behind an ear, and you smile to the beautiful scenery.
So, this is the world that you have created?
Not bad.
Not bad at all.
"Lightning?"
You turn to the voice.
"Lightning! Is that you?"
How do you even react to that? She just throws herself onto you and the next thing you know, the bright colours of orange is all over your face. But you return the hug, nonetheless. You take a deep breath, inhaling the fresh citric scent the girl seems to carry on her.
"It's good to see you too, Vanille."
She pulls back, and when you see such a beautiful, genuine smile, you are reminded of how, despite not having much interaction with her back in the day, you really did enjoy her company.
"Where are you headed?" she asks.
"I don't really know," you answer honestly. "Wherever the train takes me, I guess. Maybe I will eventually find my family."
Vanille's smile widens to your choice of words. "How's that turning out?"
You breathe out a sound of amusement. "I managed to bump into you."
She giggles. "Well, that's a start, isn't it?"
You nod, smiling alongside her.
She tells you she is also travelling. That she's also looking for her family. Fang.
No surprise. Those two are literally inseparable.
And because you understand the void that she's feeling, you agree to let her travel with you.
To keep each other company, she says.
Why not?
When she fills that void, you'll be happy for her.
And so you board another train, this time with her.
.
.
It's spring.
Under the pink cherry trees, the two of you sit outside a small café. You don't talk much; it's mostly just Vanille talking. And you like listening to her. She talks about how she wants to continue exploring the world once she finds Fang. How she wants to enjoy every moment of being alive. How, in the end, no matter what happens, you should join her.
You smile to yourself.
Not a bad idea.
But… maybe you shouldn't.
"Fancy seeing you again, Vanille, Saviour."
You roll your eyes, turning to glare at the speaker without much threat. Because you're more so happy than anything to see a companion again.
Vanille giggles. "Uh oh, Noel. I don't think she likes that name."
The young male scratches his cheek with a finger, "Erm… Guardian of Etro?"
You cross your arms. "Can't you address me normally?"
"Éclair?"
"Now you're just pushing it."
Both Noel and Vanille break into a soft laughter. And you join in. It feels nice to laugh with others.
Noel sits down, and the three of you reminisce the past. It's a genuinely comfortable moment. He explains that he, like Vanille, is searching for someone.
"Why don't you come with us?" Vanille suggests.
You nod. "We can find her together."
But Noel just laughs as he shakes his head. "Thank you, but I need to do this on my own."
"Why's that?" Vanille asks.
He smiles softly. "I've been told to never let her go. To promise to take care of her," he explains. "Seems like fate is just testing me. Which just means I gotta overcome the challenge myself, don't you think?" he finishes with a grin.
A soft wind blows by. The scent of cherry blossoms hits your senses and the moment is nice. Serene.
"Fate can be quite cruel," Vanille starts, "But look at us," she gestures at their surroundings. "Look what we've made."
The trees, the air, the sun, the warmth.
Everything.
"You'll find her, Noel."
"Yeah," Noel agrees. "I mean, how hard can it be? You two found each other, after all."
His comment takes you off-guard and you find yourself blinking. Confused.
When you clash eyes with the redhead, your instinct is to turn away. And you know it's the same for her, because you're both struggling to hide your reddened cheeks.
.
.
Summer time.
The next station so happens to be close to a beach.
Vanille says she wants to dig her feet into the white sand.
"Lightning, come join me!" she says as she runs towards the crystal blue water.
You shake your head, no thanks. You don't want to get tanned. Staying under the shade is the most viable option here. "I'll go get us something cold to drink," you say to avoid getting dragged out to the sun by her.
A vending machine is close by, and you get excited when you see that they have the fizzy strawberry drink that you really like. You get one for yourself and a lemon-flavoured one for Vanille. She never told you, but you've noticed that she likes anything sour.
When you return, you see Vanille crouching down next to a boy, building a sandcastle together.
It's a cute sight.
Makes you appreciate everything a lot more, you know? Seeing Vanille being so enthusiastic about these small, simple moments. It's because she hasn't had the time to enjoy them in the past. Burdened with the desires of false gods.
As you were.
But not anymore.
The thought of Vanille being happy somehow lifts a bit of weight off your chest.
"Ah, now that's a beautiful smile."
You look to the voice. "Sazh?"
"The one and only," he grins.
Your smile grows wider. "I would hug you, but I'm sure Vanille already did it in my stead."
"She sure did," he says, "Almost lifted me right off my feet!"
Laughter fills the air.
Sazh invites the two of you to stay at his place for the night. He claims it's dangerous for two girls to stay out alone in hotels. You think he's forgotten who he's talking to. Like, come on. You literally are (could have been) the god of death. And Vanille herself has that infamous skill called Death. But you know Sazh is just being fatherly and protective.
His place is really cozy, anyway. It has a nice patio facing the quiet ocean.
When Dajh is tucked in bed, Sazh joins you two outside. He brings a few beers. You were never much of a beer person, but, eh, special occasion.
"So… um," Sazh raises his drink, "Cheers to a new world?"
Vanille giggles. "You're so corny, Sazh!"
"I know, I know…" he laughs. "Sorry I'm old. Then… what should we toast to?"
You shrug. "How about to health?"
"And new discoveries!" Vanille adds.
He just gawks. "You two are just as corny."
More laughter.
There's so much to talk about. The memories, the present, the future. Possibilities. And time passes you by. The evening sky darkens, stars twinkle brightly above you, and a hint of blue peaks above the horizon. The sun is rising, and none of you has the intention to let this moment end.
And then, at one point when the light of the sun reflects off the waters, he asks, "How long do you two plan to travel together?"
You eye Vanille, and Vanille eyes you. Shrugging at the same time, Vanille is the one to answer, "Who knows? I kind of like it like this. Arriving at a new stop. Seeing new things, meeting old friends."
You nod. No objections.
"Huh. What about Fang? No plans to settle down with her when you meet up again?"
And then suddenly, you feel—just for a brief moment—something prickling at your heart. It is just for a moment, but you definitely felt it. You stay motionless, but you can't control it. You try not to make it obvious that you're looking at Vanille's reaction.
She's playing with her fingers on her lap. Looking down. Is something wrong? Why does she look like she's troubled?
"I don't know. I… I like travelling. With you." Vanille looks up. Not at Sazh. But at you. She looks at you as if she were asking you for permission. "I'm not sure if she would want to join us."
You force a smile (force?) and answer, "You can always stay with her if she doesn't want to tag along. That was the plan, wasn't it?"
She just looks at you, with an equally forced smile.
The two of you just stare at each other with uncertainty.
"Hm."
You turn to Sazh. The nerve of him. He's just smirking smugly as if he's witnessed some forbidden secret.
"I don't know if you've noticed, soldier girl," Sazh crosses his arms, "But Vanille here seems like she wants to keep you to herself."
The statement makes Vanille squeak.
And you.
You think your heart stopped functioning for a second.
.
.
Fall.
With every passing day, the weight in your heart becomes heavier.
A chasm.
It lifts, mends, when she makes you smile.
But when the moment ceases, the weight returns. The crack widens.
And you really don't know why that is.
(No, you do)
You look outside the window of the coffee shop and watch as the rain pours down. It's a surreal moment. The sound of raindrops hitting the ground. The sight of water streaming along the glass. The red, orange, yellow tree leaves swaying slightly in the distance with the wind.
"Light? Hey, Light. Are you okay?"
You turn back to the boy. Oh, how rude of you to daydream mid-conversation. "Sorry, Hope. What were you saying?"
He frowns. "About how you're not being yourself."
You cross your arms and look outside again, eyes following a single raindrop until it shatters upon hitting a blade of grass. "What do you mean? I've always been this stand-offish."
"Well, yeah. But that's only when you want to protect yourself from something."
You glare at the boy. Damn it, you've forgotten how perceptive he can be.
"Does it have something to do with Vanille?"
You glare harder.
And he tries to hide his grin. How awesome it must feel to call you of all people out. "Hey, she can't hear us," he pauses to check the counter. You do too. Vanille is still queuing in the line. And then he continues, "You can tell me what's wrong."
You scoff. "What are you, my counsellor?"
"I mean, I kind of was back on the Ark."
Rolling your eyes, you sigh. He's not wrong. You lean back into your chair and look towards Vanille's direction. "I like travelling with her."
"Okay."
A rumble is heard within the clouds, catching your attention "I don't want it to end."
Hope raises a curious brow. "Then don't let it end."
You pause for a thoughtful moment. "What if she does?"
"Why would she?"
"Because," you bite at your lip. Unsure if you should go on. The thought of what you want to say pains you. But you press on, because you refuse to show weakness. "I'm not the one she's looking for."
A silence fills the space. The rest of the people in the coffee shop mind their own business, and you can't bring yourself to even notice the white noises.
When Vanille returns, she gives you your latte, Hope his hot chocolate, and a cappuccino for herself. She's oblivious to your troubled thoughts, you think, because she's just talking about how Hope has grown taller, and how he's almost at her height.
The boy across the table answers to her remarks politely. But every once in a while, you feel his eyes on you, to check if you're okay.
When it is time to say goodbye, he gives both of you a hug.
For you, in particular, he leans in close.
And you hear him whisper, "Then why is she still with you?"
He pulls away, and you're left there, speechless.
His train departs. You and Vanille are the only ones left on the platform. The sound of raindrops dance on the umbrella you two are hiding under.
"Lightning."
You turn to her.
"I've been meaning to ask you," she looks up. "Is something wrong?"
Her question makes you clench your teeth. Just a bit. "Why do you ask?"
Vanille doesn't answer right away. Which worries you. She's just… looking at you with sympathetic eyes. Thin brows creased together slightly. "Because you look bothered."
"I'm fine," you lie.
She doesn't buy it, of course. She reaches for your hand, the one that's holding onto the umbrella. The warmth from her fingertips shoots into your skin and you can't help but to tense up.
Her gaze lingers on yours for a long, long while.
You don't want to turn away.
Then she begins, reluctance in her voice. "How long will this go on for?"
It is a broad question. "Until you want me to stop," you answer simply.
Maybe it's just you, but you think her gaze has become more desperate. Like she's begging you to give her an answer. "Do you want to stop?" she asks.
You shake your head very, very lightly. Barely any movement. "I don't know."
Another quiet moment. You focus all your attention to the warmth of her hand. The many different shades of green in her eyes. The whimsical sounds of the raindrops. The blurs of nature surrounding you.
"Then do you think…" she begins, "… we can stay like this for a bit longer?"
Your heart beats. It's always been beating. But now you can hear it. Pounding. Faster. Your chest heaves, and you notice Vanille's does as well. Her shoulders rise and drop. Her pupils wrapped in the emerald colours dilate. You tell yourself you should turn away.
"We should…"
Vanille's throat bobs.
So does yours. You lick your lips. "… get out of this rain."
You can't.
Because her hold on your hand tightens—the one that is holding onto the umbrella. You end up dropping it. She's stronger than you think and you can't even pull away.
Why should you pull away?
Why should you stop her when she tiptoes to kiss your lips?
Why should you hold yourself back from returning that kiss?
The rain soaks your clothes. It's freezing. Your hair sticks onto your face. You're shivering. But you've never felt more comfortable. You hold her close. Your arms loop around her slim waist and hers around your neck.
Her lips are so soft. So soft.
She's relentless. Rough. Very passionate.
Because she doesn't let you go. Not when you return to your hotel. Not when you return to your room. She doesn't even remove her clothes when she pushes you into the shower. You, likewise, can't control yourself. The water from the showerhead is hot, but you are burning on a whole different level because you can only throw your head back when her warm tongue dances at the bundle of nerves between your legs. Your fingers dig into the back of her head as you pull her close.
More.
You want more of her.
You don't know how else to say it than to moan.
The sounds you make embarrass you, but you don't know how to care.
Your release makes your eyes burn and because you don't want her to see, you pull her up and crush your lips against hers, flipping your position to push her against the ceramic tiled walls. She wraps her legs around your hips, locking them at her ankles as your fingers find her centre.
She whines. You hide in her neck. Kissing along her collarbone and you thrust into her.
When she comes, you can feel her muscles pulse. You can feel her gripping around your fingers. Feel her hold you close. Feel her not wanting to let go.
You watch her face. Twisting with an overwhelming sense of pleasure. And you can't stop. You kiss her, again and again.
"Don't stop." She whispers.
You won't.
"I don't want this to end." She rocks her hips.
And you kiss her again.
.
.
Winter arrives.
The snow coats the ground and everything is painted in a pure, white sheet.
You wonder.
Why does it feel so wrong?
You look into her eyes and think that she wonders it sometimes as well. But neither of you says anything. Because you have convinced yourself that what you have right now is fine. This. It's enough.
Then why does it still feel so heavy in your chest? At this point, it aches when you see her in the morning, lying next to you. Like a chasm is forming. It's growing wider, and you can see the void within.
And why is this the only thought in your mind even when you reunite with your sister?
"I've missed you so much," Serah says in a shaky voice as she pulls you in for a hug.
You return it, kissing the top of her head as you push back tears. At the corner of your eyes, you see Snow greeting Vanille with a fist-bump. You never knew they were this friendly.
"Sis!" Snow turns his attention to you when Serah releases you. He opens his arms but you thrust a hand in his face to stop him from getting any closer.
A natural reaction.
Everyone laughs.
Serah and Vanille prepare dinner as you and Snow sit in the living room by the fireplace to catch up.
He says that he and Serah found each other first thing because they are meant to be. That nothing in the universe can pull them apart anymore. That he would let the universe have it if it dares to try anything funny.
You roll your eyes. He is still the same, overly-eccentric dumb giant. But you are glad for him, nonetheless.
"You seem troubled," he comments out of the blue. "Our favourite redhead too much for you to handle?"
Oh, he doesn't know the half of it.
Your silence prompts him to give you this strange look. Like he wants to ask you, but knows he shouldn't if he wants to keep his head.
And you're glad he doesn't press on.
At dinner, there are jokes and laughter. And then comes the inevitable. The what-if's, the maybe's, the future.
Snow and Serah have settled down. This is their future.
What of yours?
What of Vanille's?
"You can always stay," Serah suggests, hopefulness in her tone.
"We didn't get a place with an extra room for nothing." Snow grins.
You don't know what to do. What does Vanille want to do? You turn to her.
But she is just looking down at her food. Picking at it with her fork.
Ah, shit.
The ache in your chest returns.
The chasm grows.
The void becomes darker.
When you shift your attention back to Serah, you see her giving you the smuggest smile.
Oh, no.
You look to Snow. He is giving you the same expression.
Oh, god no.
Maybe you're just being paranoid. It's not that obvious, is it?
All your worries are confirmed at night when Serah tells you, "The walls are pretty sound-proof."
You don't know how to react to that. On the one hand, how the hell does she know? On the other hand, what the fuck do she and Snow need sound-proof walls for?! You're about to give her a beating, but then—
"Lightning?" Vanille calls to you in the room, distracting you, and Serah takes the opportunity to skip back into her room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
You can only frown before joining Vanille in bed.
"What happened?" She asks as she removes the bands in her pigtails.
You lean against the bedframe, hiding your face behind a palm. "Serah just told me the walls are sound-proof."
But you can still see Vanille blush.
"Oh…"
The awkward silence can only last so long, as both of you are on the verge of screaming.
After all, you haven't touched each other for the entire day.
It's only a matter of time before you find yourself pinning her on the bed, teasing at her most sensitive areas. Drinking from her pleasure. And you've expected it when she flips you over, straddling you at the hips to return the favour.
How can something so imperfect, so unsettling, so immoral feel so good?
Vanille falls asleep on top of you. The warmth of her naked body against yours brings a soreness to your centre and you try to distract yourself with the scent of her hair. You try to take in everything she's done to you in the past few hours, months, and there is an immediate rush of adrenaline. It invigorates you, but just as quickly as you are overcome with the sensations, another feeling—guilt—hits you and you feel like vomiting.
It's always like this.
You know it's like it for her as well.
Because at times, she is the one who is gone from the room.
Carefully, you remove yourself from the bed. She moans to the sudden loss of warmth. You throw a simple sweater over your head and sit at the edge of the bed. Just looking out the window. Watching each snowflake fall. It amuses you to see that when they land, they blend in with the rest of the background.
You don't know how long it's been, but eventually, Vanille stirs behind you.
She's awake, but you don't react to it.
Not even when she wraps her arms around your neck, pressing her body against your back. Your sweater slides off the to the side and Vanille uses this to her advantage to kiss your exposed shoulder. She follows the tendons of your neck, up to your ear. Where she stops to just breathe.
You shut your eyes, baring your teeth for what's to come.
"It's time to stop, Lightning." she whispers.
You hold onto her arm. "We don't have to."
Vanille sighs, her breath shivers. She turns you around so that you would look at her.
You think you're looking at an angel. The soft lights reflecting off the snow shine into the room. Vanille's body illuminates.
She brushes your bangs away from your eyes. Looks at you tenderly. Runs her thumb a bit below your waterline. "You've found what you've been looking for," she smiles sadly. "But I haven't."
You stare into her eyes. Hoping that somehow, you can convince her to change her mind. Because you were never good with words. This is all you have.
But it's not enough.
"Goodbye, Lightning."
You lower your head to rest on her shoulder.
To hide your tears.
.
.
Just like that, she's gone.
She's been gone so long and you feel… kind of empty.
(An understatement)
"Light," Serah calls to you.
You ignore her and continue staring out the window. The snow is starting to melt. The streets are no longer covered in thick sheets of white.
"Éclair."
You blink, turning to see that your little sister is giving you this death glare. "… what?"
She grunts. "You know very well what." Serah says as she puts her hands on her hips. "Would you pull yourself together?!"
You sigh. Only to look out the window again. Getting lectured by your little sister is not your favourite pastime in the world.
"Are you, like, fifteen?! Stop moping around and go after her if it bothers you so much!"
"I can't."
"Why?"
You close your eyes. "I don't know."
Serah doesn't say anything. You're glad about that, because you need a moment to compose yourself. You think you're about to cry. Which isn't good. You don't want anyone to see you cry.
"Light, look at me."
You need a second.
Oh—but then she takes your hand, making you open your eyes on instinct.
And it's just waterworks from there.
But Serah is understanding. She pulls you in to hug you. "My goodness, you're actually heartbroken." She says as she strokes the back of your head.
Serah just lets you rest on her shoulder until you quiet down.
But at a certain point, she does say, "Go look for her, Light."
You want to say that it's pointless. Because you're not the one for her.
"Tell her how you feel." Serah continues.
You swallow and your voice trembles. "W-what if I can't find her?"
Serah tilts her head, like you've said something ridiculous. "Then she'll just find you."
.
.
Come spring time.
When you step off the train, a familiar cool breeze caresses your cheeks. You push your pink locks away from your eyes, and you smile to the beautiful landscape.
This world that you've created.
It's a bit too big.
The many possibilities intimidate you.
But you know you need to move forward.
So when the train behind you whistles, preparing to depart for its next station, you stay to watch it leave. You could've stopped somewhere else. Could've ridden it a while longer.
But you've chosen this possibility today.
… How else do you explain this?
The platform across from yours sits a girl at a bench.
Bright, orange hair tied in pigtails. She is looking your way. A beaming smile. Sparkling green eyes.
And you.
A huge grin, dry throat, heaving chest, and a pounding heart.
She's the one who walks up to you. Because it seems like you're frozen in place.
"Where are you headed?" She asks you something she already knows.
But you play along. "I don't know," you say, shaking your head. "Wherever the train takes me. Maybe to my family."
"Oh," Vanille says thoughtfully. She taps at her chin with a finger. "How's that turning out?"
"Not bad," you respond. "I mean, I've found her."
"Mmm…" she nods, returning your smile with one of her own. "I managed to bump into Noel again. He was with Yeul."
"Oh?" You say. "Then… this means he beat fate?"
"He sure did."
Another breeze blows by. Cherry blossoms float in the air and both of you just watch as the petals fly with the wind, towards the blue sky.
"What about you?" You hear yourself say. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
Vanille's gaze softens. It is then you realize that the way she looks at you makes you feel so safe.
Like she admiring you.
Guiding you.
Protecting you.
All at once.
"I've found it, long ago." Vanille answers lovingly as she reaches up to touch your cheek. "It was right in front of me, all this time."
.
.
a/n. believe it or not Noel's spring time was the hardest to write