I think I forgot to mention yesterday that I'm going to try and complete these in order which is half of the reason for all the chronological jumping. Anywho, sorry for the mistakes in the last chapter. I will be going back and rectifying them as I go along.
Thank you so much for the reviews! They made me so happy! They really inspired me to write the next one and get it out asap!
A note for this chapter: Hope has been living with Lightning for a while, reasons why revealed in later chapters XD I hope you guys like this one as much! (bans self from exclamation marks for the rest of the day)
Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing and I wish I was playing the game right now.
LOVE
Hope is 17, Lightning is 24
'Shit.'
He sat on the roof of her house, his hair plastered to his face through the rain, staring out at the storm tossed sea. In his hand, he held the knife that Lightning had once loaned him for protection and he was flicking it open and closed. The repetitive motion seemed to help ease the swelling ache in his chest.
How had he not realised before?
How much of an idiot did he have to be not to see that he was in love with her?
It had been a slap in the face, a bolt of a realisation that had completely staggered him. She had been called away on duty for a week and he would be by himself, was he going to be alright?
Hope had blinked at her through sleep encrusted eyes, looking out at the dark, rolling clouds and then back at her as he ambled down the stairs for breakfast. She was fully encased in protective gear, her sword swinging low by her knees. She looked exactly like she had when Hope had first met her and as real lightning broke through the clouds and illuminated her face, those icy eyes, Hope knew.
For a moment, his throat had closed over as his heart had swelled. It felt like someone had poured something burning over his internal organs.
He was painfully aware, through this life altering realisation, that she was waiting for an answer.
"F-fineā¦I'll be fine," he stammered uselessly, ignoring the heat inflaming his cheeks as he reached up to the top cabinet to grab some cereal.
"Are you sure? Your face is bright red, you're not sick are you?" Lightening asked in her disapproving way, leaning forward to rest a hand on his forehead.
Hope had stood there rigidly as Lightning's surprisingly soft hand covered his forehead. A million thoughts ran together in his mind causing a massive blurring pile up and the painful urge to turn around and hide himself from eyes that saw much too clearly.
"I'll be fine," he assured her, pulling away from her touch and grabbing a bowl.
She'd scrutinised him as he'd stalked across the kitchen for milk and then sat at her small dining table. When he didn't pour the cereal in the bowl but instead sat averting his eyes like he used to when he was younger, her suspicions were confirmed. He was sick.
"I can stay if you want me to you know," she'd told him gently.
She was surprised to see the dark flash in his eyes as they met hers.
"I'm not a kid anymore Light," he snapped at her angrily, "if you need to go out on duty, I'm sure I can handle myself for a few days."
As they sometimes did, her eyes seemed to cloud over as she watched him and the newfound feeling still tearing at his insides pulsed unpleasantly. He couldn't keep looking into those eyes, not at the moment, not while this was so raw, while he might do something stupid.
Instead, he stood, the chair raking back on the hard floor.
"I'll see you when you get back okay?" he said and had turned tail before she could give him an answer.
He knew that she wouldn't come and find him, that wasn't her way. Though he was on the roof by the time she left, he heard the front door slam and tried to lock down the painful idea that he wouldn't be able to apologise for getting irrationally angry for at least a week.
On the bright side, her absence gave him some time to figure out what to do with these feelings, this misplaced love. What was he going to do? There was no way she would reciprocate his feelings...He was obviously just a kid to her after all.
So what was he going to do? He was going to lock it all down, away. If she knew how he felt, she might ask him to move out and there was no way he could face that. He knew it was a weak course of action but it was the option that best preserved his sanity.
'Shit, shit, shit.'
He sighed and laid back on the roof, closing his eyes against the slapping of the rain.
Love. How could this get any worse?
Please review, it makes me update!
EDIT: Burnt Word - names and places correctly spelt now.
