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Lunar Flowers
ii. lonelilies

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He just finished planting some new buds at the other side of the flowerbed; a skill she taught and he welcomed, but not so much because he has a new-found fascination for flowers and gardening.

Cloud carefully followed the trail of droplets raining down on her lilies as she watered them in the golden afternoon; just enough to dampen the soil and not drown them. There was very little wind and sound, but he breathed with ease as the growing plants cleared in the atmosphere of a ruin within the slums.

Today, Aerith was unlikely quiet. The absence of her usual recklessness and carefree humor would translate her charm into divine beauty whenever her face was devoid of smile or expression.

Cloud is a man with very few words; his was often meant for responding than initiating. With Aerith, though, he found himself extra generous than his usual.

"They smell nice." he said. Generous – by Cloud's standards of course. He hoped to get a reaction from her. As said, she was unlikely quiet.

She shot her eyes up to him. Her smile would remind him she was still human. "Did you finish?"

Such is the relief.

She placed down the watering can and took off of her gardening gloves. Then sat down next to the flowerbed, while he stood from his end and walked a bit to her direction, before sitting beside her.

Their bare feet basked under the halo that directly beamed towards the flowers, from the now-broken roof where Cloud fell through.

No words came from either of them, as Cloud's eyes remained on her while hers fixated skywards.

The church was vacant of slum children, vendors and machines. For someone who's the last of her kind, silence meant something else. The voices of the Planet often sounded like fragments, echoed pieces coming from several streams of consciousness. There were a lot of words, and they remain incoherent. Incomplete cries that only she could feel, but not fully understand.

Today, they were louder. Crying, shrieking out of anguish, pain, sorrow, and anger. Nothing that Aerith wasn't used to already; nothing that pushes her to the edge, or unsettles her, but there were times she would keep herself quietly wishing for them to stop, even just for a day.

She closed her eyes and leaned onto the man next to her. Aerith felt him stiffen when she did, although that does not bother her. After all, he never refused nor ignored her, in fact he would always indulge her.

She felt him move again, as he adjusted his arm and body and leaned slightly to the right; she believed he did so for her comfort, at the expense of his. She smiled to herself before letting out a deep sigh; one that Cloud will debate over, whether it was out of content or fatigue.

To be indulged by Cloud. The thought still tickles her. And he was not the type to indulge anyone, at all. She just won't believe it until he indulges her again. She wanted to test it - why not now, then?

She grabbed his gloved hands (he is surprised by this, but he would let her do as she likes), softly caressing them, not minding the soil that dirtied the leather.

"Oh, right." he noticed that his was still wearing his gloves. He took them off. Cloud slightly hesitated whether he should hold her hand, but he did anyway. The gesture made Aerith feel warm inside, loved that she didn't even need to ask. Indulging her, he did. She was sure she would do the same for him in exchange. She nuzzled her head against his arm.

The voices.. from loud cries, they now whisper instead.

"Hey Cloud," He slightly turned his head to his shoulder, where her head laid.

"I still can't believe you tended the flowers with me," she chirped as she adoringly wrapped her arms around his. "I can't wait for the ones you planted to bloom."

He subtly mirrors her smile. "Don't get your hopes up." It was his first time to do so after all. He never had the chance to develop a green thumb.

The birds flocked atop the roof. With their singing she was again overwhelmed by the volume of noise inside her head, but her face doesn't give anything away. Cloud notices it again when she doesn't reply to him, and again she was staring up the sky. He looks around the ceiling as well, finding the object of her sight. There was nothing but a few feathered creatures, flirting and singing with each other in tune.

His eyes once again rest on her face. It's been a while now, and he's been thinking, if he was allowed to spend the entirety of his life tending the flowers, sitting beside her; for there was nothing else that made his days as colorful and alive as the darting pink and red she wore.

"Aerith?" she turned her head towards him in an instant.

She answers him with a smile. "What is it?"

"You've been strangely quiet today."

Aerith will not realize how he had just stopped the noise. The many voices ringing in her ears turned mute, it was now the silence they shared that she could only hear.

"It was louder than the usual," she answered as she watched her foot tickle a bloom. "The voices."

Cloud's breath hitched. "I'm sorry."

Aerith laughed. "What are you apologizing for?"

Cloud didn't answer her. Instead, he stood up and landed on the flowerbed in his toes. He reached out to pluck a white lily that he was eyeing on earlier. He turned around, and tucked the stalk behind her ear; his fingers rested beside her cheek as he gazed down to her face.

She was red as she gleamed at him. He was red, and he was smiling, too. He wondered if she was still hearing the voices. He could imagine how it is like - to be alone inside the collective, restless noise. He knows, because he gets pangs of images and memories in his head, things that don't make sense but exist.

But save that problem for another day; for today was like any other day with Aerith. There is no noise, no confusion, no hurt. Not when they're in this little garden, with just them two.

Would it be too selfish of him to ask of this every day?

"Aerith-"

"Cloud!" Aerith's smile turned to a pout. Her index finger pointed to the flowerbed. "You're going have to plant three buds in exchange, you know,"

From his soft, fragile hold, Cloud found his own fingers pinching her cheek. She pretends to be hurt. He'll indulge her again.

On that day they laughed, and only their laughter was heard.