Flowers in careful hands


He sat on one of the pews, close to the center of the church and watched as Aerith busied herself with her flowers. While he waited for her to finish, his mouth was almost constantly in motion – he couldn't help but fill the silence with little anecdotes about anything that had happened since he last saw her.

Zack was aware that some people considered him annoying: too loud, too lively, too enthusiastic. But he wasn't the sort of person who would let that stop him. He was who he was and the people around him got used to it eventually.

But Aerith had accepted him so easily and fully that it sometimes awed him, just a little bit. Because no matter how cheerful and warm as she was, she was also small and fragile, and she had told him that she was afraid of SOLDIERs.

But here he was, SOLDIER through and through and she'd never once flinched. She had let him into her world and he was more than happy to be a part of it.

And yes, she was quiet, where he was loud.

Her smiles were kind, while he tended to grin.

When she was deep in thought, she tilted her head slightly and was still. When Zack was thinking he would hum, and fidget, and tap his arms or face.

She was so very gentle with everything she touched – Aerith was such a beautiful, fragile form and not unlike a flower herself. And he, well, he was a fighter, a killer. His hands were calloused by the large sword he wielded and his muscled form was filled with an enhanced strength that scared most people away.

But none of that mattered, because no matter what battles he fought, no matter which rank he reached and how powerful he became, when his mako-bright eyes rested on her they would contain only softness. When Aerith stood up, brushed off the dirt and smiled at him, he would always bound forward as happily as he did now. And when his hand enveloped hers, his grip was so much more careful than anyone who had ever called him careless would have believed.

Because this was Aerith and he handled her has tenderly as she treated her flowers.

And they were both the same after all, because they both loved and protected the fragile, pretty things that, despite everything, tried to reach for the warmth of the sun.


A.N. I'm trying out prompts, because. Well, because I've been trying stuff out lately. This was a sort of flash fiction prompt thing with a 500 word limit, on deviantart. In this case the word was 'tender'.

Apparently I'm still stuck in the FFVII fandom…

Word count: 407

(say, do titles count in a word count?)