Mend: to fix up; recovery, healing a sick or injured person; to improve
"I never knew you knew had to sew," Zack declared as he lounged back on the couch, shirtless as he half watched the TV, the other half was taking occasional glances at his girlfriend, still trying to get used to this rare feminine sight. Lightning sat near him, on an arm chair, her hands skillfully weaving the needle through his shirt as she pulled the strands together slowly, her aqua eyes locked on the tear. Absently, she shrugged as she responded.
"Serah is better at things like this, especially cooking and sewing, but I figure that they are both things that wouldn't hurt to know," she said evenly, glancing up at him and admiring the broad chest and abs; to cover it though, she quickly looked down, focusing on her work.
"Yeah, they try to teach us this stuff in the military, but the needle just won't work with me," he admitted sheepishly, stretching his body back, showing off more of his chest to her. Lightning paused slightly, taking in the sight, then quickly returning to her work as he slumped back, grinning at her. "I think my fingers might be too big for it," he went on.
Lightning merely hummed, silently wondering if he was doing this on purpose and his oblivion was just a ploy. At times, it could be hard to tell with Zack.
"It's weird though," he mused to himself, "I haven't been on any missions, at least, not for a while, yet my clothes keep getting ripped and torn."
"Quite a mystery indeed," Lightning agreed calmly, adjusting her feet and crossing them, hiding the knife that hung on her boot. "Quite a mystery indeed."