Reno opened his eyes. He tried to sit up, but, feeling a wave of nausea roll over him, fell back. Craning his face upwards, he saw that his head was resting on Saphrons' lap. She had fallen asleep, and her mouth was open slightly. One of her hands was resting on Reno's waist and, looking down, he realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt. He could see from the face of the clock that it was eleven fifteen.
It was still raining, but by now it was pouring.
He felt Saphron shift slightly under him, and he pulled himself up so that he was level with her.
Her chest gently rose and fell and, on an impulse, he bent down and buried is face in her ebony hair. It was soft, like a baby chocobo's downy feathers, or a kittens' fur. He inhaled her perfume, and allowed the delicate scent of jasmine to caress him.
With his fingers still in her hair, he kissed her softly on her crimson lips. Then he snuggled closer to her, and resumed sleeping.