Chapter 26: Regarding Mister Ellenty

She endured the stretch of days of his absence, much like prior to the Palumpolum trip, to the effect that what had transpired between them over that weekend now seemed unreal despite the memory telling her otherwise.

Lightning had never actually had a relationship, at least not the long-term kind that Serah and Snow were having. She'd only really had conveniences: friendships, benefits, and one-night hook-ups between herself and one individual, or between herself, her housemates, and someone the other two had picked up somewhere for fun in what the three of them called The Game. She had never been one to dwell upon her sexual partners; they had only been there merely for physical gratification, and she had wanted nothing more than that. Once she'd work them out of her system, it had been customary for her to move on; the morning-after would usually find her or them gone. And those times were impermanent, momentous things that had suited her just fine up until he showed up and got her craving for something more. Something that was definitely more than once but less than forever—the latter a concept that was still troublesome for her to even contemplate.

Problem was, she didn't really know how exactly that would work. 'Exclusivity' and 'long-term' had never been in her vocabulary before. Neither had her feelings ever been active participants to any dalliances she'd had. Lightning had done rather well without those, so this was another new uncertainty that she'd found herself going through.

Damn that bastard.

And here she was now, finding herself in the midst of a sense of promise, a sense of waiting, and the abject yearning and the questions that came with it were simply unendurable. It had been a week since she had seen either hide or hair of him, wherein all she'd seemed to do was sigh and pine and wonder to herself where was he, why hadn't he come to see her, why had he made her believe she was important to him when the past few days of his absence showed contrary evidence to it, why, why, why... argh...

I hate him, she thought. I hate this. I want him, but I don't want this.

She grumbled and glowered over her macaroni salad as she stabbed through them with her fork, earning puzzled looks from Fang and Jihl on the other side of the food court table.

It was the weekend after Serah's wedding dress trip, and her housemates had dragged her over to the local mall for yet another shopping spree that Lightning just really didn't need right now.

"Just us girls this time," said the blonde as she hooked her arm through the elder Farron's, her other hand gripping Lightning's wrist to communicate that in no uncertain terms were they going to let her get away.

Jihl had a party to go to, a get-together with the industrial businesses that the company she worked for had dealings with, and Fang was her plus-one guest. And both ladies had deemed it necessary that a new wardrobe was in order since this party could double as a hunting ground for their Game.

Simply put, the Game was their euphemism for the occasional orgy they liked to partake in—and that which Lightning herself used to participate in. They were simply young women who liked to have fun, and there certainly was nothing wrong with that. But overtime, the roseate had come to discover that it wasn't really something that she was into. She appreciated that participating hadn't required any future commitment to or from their "contributor(s)", and having each other along certainly gave a buffer and distraction from any interest said contributor(s) might have incurred for any of them who couldn't see themselves going steady with anyone.

And so Lightning made indifferent comments to the outfits the two paraded in front of her, lugging her feet as they dragged her from store after store after store, arms encumbered by shopping bags. Her nose flared in a frustrated huff when she followed them into Under Lulu's Belts, not contributing much when she was enquired about the fit of certain lacy and satin undergarments shown to her in the fitting rooms, not paying much attention to the overabundant pile they placed on the counter as she waited for them to pay for their purchases. Over the years of their company, she'd gotten used to them going all-out when "dressing for war" (having done the same herself when she used to join them).

Eventually they found themselves at the food court. At their feet lay their various loot and on their table lay their lunch. Lightning had drowned out their conversation as she fumed about her current situation, trying to come up with ideas in regards to meeting up with her wayward not-really-maybe-sort-of boyfriend, and berating herself as she critiqued the pros and cons of said ideas.

Over the past few days, all she had heard of Hope were little snippets of updates from Noel, who so suspiciously seemed to only mention his brother (and with a louder than normal voice, at that) whenever she was near their vicinity on their nightly visits to Sazh's.

At work, busy, the brunet would say. Something about some sort of robot-armour-thing that Hope and his co-worker couldn't seem to agree about.

And well...Lightning couldn't help but feel perturbed.

Had she been replaced by a robot?

The churn of emotions eating at her was simply unbearable—well, really, who got jealous over a robot?—and she could only surmise (out of desperation, for lack of anything else) that it was due to her hormones going haywire since she'd started up on birth control again the day after they returned from Palumpolum. One could never be too safe from unwanted pregnancy, and while she liked to indulge Hope's fantasy of their future together, she'd rather that that future stayed much, much farther into the future. Sleeping with him during a safe day for her was okay, but one could only ever have so many safe days. And, well, they were both only human and therefore could make a mistake.

Grudgingly, she lifted the fork and bit into her salad. Lightning was sure that she had deterred so much from her usual behaviour that those who knew her had noticed by now. But she just could not help herself anymore.

She'd tried to lose herself with work, and while that helped to distract her, it also served to remind her of Hope since that was where he had come (back) into her life. She sadly didn't have the luxury of not having his friends around at his own workplace. And well...

She recalled that this wasn't the first time it was mentioned that Hope had a tendency to get lost in his work, to the detriment of his relationships both familial and amourous.

Inasmuch as she would've appreciated some form of contact from him, Lightning also knew that the same went for her. She could make the effort—after all, she saw more of their mutual friends on a daily basis than he did. And certainly she knew they would be more than happy to provide his contact information. But that was the thing. She could just imagine the abject glee on their faces. The curiosity. The hunger for details. The conclusion-jumping. The gloating. The enthusiasm. The excitement. The congratulatory greetings and teasing. Which would no doubt all happen despite all the death threats her copyrighted Glare of Doom could muster, their self-preservation thrown to the winds with the knowledge that one Lightning, née Claire Farron, longtime single woman that had never once intimated she was interested in anyone, was now suddenly expressing interest about a certain guy.

A certain guy that happened to have been after her since a certain incident six years ago that everyone happened to know about.

Lightning had never really been one to let other people's opinions bother her. But she knew her friends long enough to know just how incessantly annoying they could be, despite the thought that no doubt they'd be happy for her and Hope. But she had a breaking point. So definitely, no, she could not turn to her friends for this one.

Stabbity-stab-stab went her fork over the elbow pasta, decimating them into the cream, and from her periphery she saw her companions nudging each other and pointing at her. She stopped.

Crap.

With a final nudge at the blonde, Fang directed a smirk towards Lightning. "You alright there, sunshine?"

The pink-haired exhaled in an attempt to ease the tension from her shoulders, and set her fork down. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You never told us what happened on your trip," pointed out Jihl, eyeing her over the rim of her glasses.

"What's the point? I'm sure you've already heard what happened from Serah and Vanille. That's all they ever talked about to anyone since coming back."

The brunette pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. "Yes, we know. We can recount their tale word for word by now. But we're not here about them, sweetie. We want to hear your side of the story."

"My side? What are you talking about?"

"We're just wondering what you were up to when you were there, that's all," elaborated the blonde.

"Up to? Wha—" Lightning stopped and shook her head, a hand reaching up to rub her eyes. "What's there to say? We went to Palumpolum. Serah got her dress. Vanille got her dress. I got my dress. We came back. End of story."

Fang leaned her elbows on the table, eyes narrowed. "Sure it is, hon."

"What else are you expecting? That's all that happened. That's all there is."

"Hmm, I don't know. You've been off." The brunette stopped and thought for a moment, then amended, "Well, more off than usual since Mr Long-and-Thick came back."

Lightning felt the onslaught of heat colour her cheeks, and she, with great effort, immediately stomped down the rush of images that filled her mind that were caused by Fang's nickname that aptly described...well...

She swallowed and held on to her crumbling composure. "You're out of your mind. You're imagining things. And let's just fucking drop the subject."

"Oh, sweetie," sighed Jihl as she shook her head, rolling her eyes even as she reached forward to pat Lightning's arm on the table. "We won't force the issue anymore—"

"—What issue?" Lightning cut in, trying to control her growing aggravation.

The blonde simply shook her head, taking her hand back to reach down to one of the bags on the floor and handing it to the rose-haired woman. "Speaking of fucking, this is for you."

Lightning suspiciously eyed the bag bearing the logo of Under Lulu's Belts, peeking over the rim and past the protruding tissue to the contents inside, blue eyes rounding at what she saw.

"What." She jerked, immediately pushing the bag back to its giver. "I don't need that. Why would you—I don't—"

"Sweetie, this is a welcome-back gift." Jihl simply deposited the bag onto Lightning's lap, a knowing smile that matched Fang's stretching upon her lips. "Wear it for Mr Long-and-Thick."

"What—no! We're not—And never—I don't know what you're talking about and you should take this back."

The blonde simply waved a finger, tut-tutting, before cupping her breasts to demonstrate a point. "My girls are too big to fit in what we got you. But I'm sure you'll find some good use for them with Mr Long-and-Thick."

Flinching at the moniker, Lightning found herself covering her face as the crimson wouldn't leave her cheeks, idly using her fingertips to rub her pulsing temple.

"Sunshine, we can tell something's happened during the trip," imparted Fang in an almost commiserating tone. "We noticed that you've started using birth control again, so obviously you're preparing yourself for something. We just thought to give you a little gift to help you along. And I'm sure Mr Long-and-Thick will appreciate our efforts." She punctuated the last with a snicker.

The elder Farron released a long-suffering sigh, wincing at the constant mention of the stupid name they'd designated her absent beau with. There was no getting out of it now. But she would not let herself be defeated. Blue eyes rose and pierced her housemates. "Can you two do me a favour?"

Both women in question shared a look before turning back to face her.

"Depends on the favour," countered Fang. "Tell us what it is and we'll see if we can manage it."

Lightning huffed out her exasperation. "Can you stop calling him that stupid nickname?"

The two issued out whines of disappointment.

"Why?" asked Jihl with a pout. "It's perfect. You instantly knew whom we were talking about when we said it."

The rose-haired shifted in her seat even as she grudgingly accepted their gift, rummaging into the bag but refusing to bring out what seemed to be several sets of lingerie, surprising her by how her housemates seemed to have carefully picked out ones that Lightning actually wouldn't mind trying on. "Because."

"Because what?"

"It's dumb."

"That's the best you can come up with?" commented the blonde with a smile.

"We noticed that you haven't denied that he is any of those things," said Fang with a knowing smirk.

Lightning rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

"Fine. We'll just shorten it to L-and-T."

Jihl hurriedly raised her plastic cup of mango smoothie. "To our little Lightning and her Mr Ellenty!"

Fang clinked her soda bottle with Jihl's. "Mr Ellenty!"

Worst day ever, thought Lightning, hands crumpling the bag in her lap.

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy XIII and its sequels belong to Square Enix.

Thanks for reading :)
Sept/2014