Author's Comments: Happy summer! Hope you enjoy this next chapter!
Author's Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts or Pixar.I own Imani and Aden.
The moment they stepped into Fair Helianthus, Sora gingerly slid into the nearest chair and deflated. His lungs expanded with every deep inhale he took as he prayed for the room to stop spinning, please stop spinning. He could barely keep his eyes open against the blaring light.
Ughhhh…This hangover was killing him. He wanted to just curl into a tiny ball and dieeeeeee. It was a miracle he managed to leave Axel's apartment let alone drag himself to this meeting.
He sat alone wallowing in his misery for what felt like hours before Kairi joined him with her coffee. "You sure you don't want anything?" she asked, sitting down next to him and rubbing his back slowly.
Sora could only mumble incoherently in response. He wasn't sure his stomach could handle anything and his brain felt like it was about to explode.
"What's up with you?" Demyx asked as he and Zexion took the seats across from him.
With great effort, he forced his tongue to move sluggishly in his mouth. "I hung out with Riku and Roxas and Axel last night."
"Nice. What'd you guys do?"
A long groan slithered from his throat as he rested his head against the table. "I don't remember."
He winced at the harsh scraping of Zexion's chair as he stood and stepped away. "Sounds like there might have been alcohol involved," Demyx noted with a chuckle.
Oh God. Just the mention of alcohol made his stomach churn and gurgle. "Probably."
Kairi's hand froze. "You drank?"
Uh oh.
The shock in Kairi's voice sent a jolt of panic up his spine. Sora whipped his head from the table and clasped his hands before him. "I'm so, so, so sorry!" he croaked pathetically to her. "I'll never drink again. Ever."
Her blue eyes narrowed slightly at him. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck as she drew out her disapproving silence. He knew that look. If he wasn't careful, that look would lead to a cold shoulder or an angry lecture…
Or maybe even a break-up.
"I'm really sorry," he tried telling her again, swallowing thickly. He couldn't bear the thought of her distancing herself from him. She was so important to him. Losing her would've been a hundred times worse than this nasty hangover of his. Please don't be mad, please don't be mad, please don't be mad…
She eyed him…but then sighed, her gaze softening. "Just…be more careful next time," she murmured, resuming the back-rub she was giving him. "I just don't want you doing something you'll regret later on…"
Sora sighed in relief. "I will," he promised, vowing to himself that there wouldn't be a next time. Never mind that he could hardly imagine drinking again without wanting to gag—making Kairi worry wasn't worth it.
"At least Ax was with you guys," Demyx said. "He's pretty good at looking out for others. We'll make this meeting quick, then."
Zexion returned to their table with a glass of water in hand. "Drink this," he ordered lightly, setting the glass before Sora.
He managed a weak grin. "Thanks."
"So," Demyx began as Zexion took his seat, "tell us about your sleepover, Kairi."
"Are you okay?"
Roxas flinched, tearing his weary eyes from his coffee. "Yeah. Why?"
Namine's brow furrowed. "You look tired," she noted quietly, her lips curling in a slight frown.
"Tired" was kind of an understatement. Roxas hadn't realized how much energy it took to essentially babysit a drunk Sora until he woke up this morning on Axel's living room floor, completely drained. "We kinda stayed up late last night," he murmured.
Her frown deepened. "You didn't have to meet up with me if you were tired."
He could hear the apology lacing her words. Roxas mustered a reassuring smile, hoping she'd return it. "I wanted to see you."
Bingo. The worry faded from her face as a blush took over her pale skin. A corner of her mouth twitched upward sheepishly.
Muting the triumph in his grin, he took a sip of his coffee, letting the warmth seep into his core. "Sorry for not being more energetic."
"You're not usually that energetic, anyway," she giggled.
"Yeah, I know, but still."
"Will you be okay at work later?"
"I think so. A couple more of these should do the trick." He tapped his mug. "Hopefully work will be slow."
"How'd you end up working for Luxord, anyway?"
"Axel knew him and was able to get me an interview."
She hummed thoughtfully, her thin fingers wrapped around her own mug. "What would your dream job be?"
He blinked. That was kind of a sudden question. "My dream job?"
She nodded, propping her head with her elbow on the table.
A subtle heat spread across his face as he shifted in his seat. His dream job…No one had ever really asked him about that before—which he suddenly realized he kind of appreciated, since the thought of talking about his dream job brought about an unexpected wave of jitters. He hoped he wouldn't sound like a dork. "Um…probably something in journalism."
"Journalism?"
"Yeah." Roxas couldn't help ducking his head. "Is that weird?"
She blinked in surprise. "No, not at all. Why would that be weird?"
"Most of my classmates want to go into public relations or broadcasting." He shrugged one shoulder and shook his head. "I don't think I'm cut out for either of those. I don't have the patience to directly work with everyone and I don't like being filmed."
"I can see that." She giggled again. "I didn't know you wrote."
"I had to keep a journal in high school as a class assignment. It was awkward at first, but I realized I enjoyed writing. It helped me sort my thoughts in a way I could never do verbally…"
He trailed off, glancing up at Namine and half-expecting her to look bored…only she didn't. She sat quietly, a tiny smile gracing her face and her eyes lit with curiosity.
Okay…he was either doing a really good job at hiding his dorkiness or she was actually interested in hearing this stuff from him.
"Did Twilight Town High have a journalism club?"
"Yeah, but I was too busy with the Struggle team to join other clubs. I kinda wish I did, though."
She leaned forward, those blue eyes glittering earnestly. "Could I read something you wrote someday?"
She…She wanted to read something he wrote?
The warmth on his face doubled. There was no way he could avoid looking like a dork without turning her down…but she looked so eager. He couldn't disappoint her by turning her down. "S-Sure…just don't get your hopes up," he warned. "My writing is nowhere nearly as amazing as your art."
Immediately her earnest look was drowned out by her bright blush. "I-I don't know about that," she stammered.
A smile crept onto his face and the jitters in his stomach settled. "You seriously don't give yourself enough credit. You're an amazing artist."
"And I'm sure you're an amazing writer," she told him once she managed to tone down her embarrassment. "I can't wait to read what you've written."
"Like I said, don't get your hopes up."
"Then don't be surprised when I tell you to give yourself more credit."
He hummed doubtfully. "You sound confident."
"Because I'm confident in you."
Roxas' face burst into his own flaming blush. "Y-You are?"
She nodded with a smile. "I've seen you express yourself well when talking to others. If writing helps you express yourself better than speaking does, then I know whatever you write will be amazing."
He sat gaping at her in stunned silence. Here she was, listening to him being a dork and supporting his dorkiness. What did he do to deserve her? She was amazing.
"You're amazing," he told her.
She sputtered, "W-What?"
His smile returned as he watched her fidget with her mug, her eyes flitting from the table to the wall to the window and back around again. She was definitely amazing.
If he were to be honest, Zexion enjoyed having an excuse to scheme behind his friends' backs. He reveled in watching careful strategies come to life like engaging in a battle of wits or a chess match. He thrived when facing challenges that tested his intellect.
Yet…he couldn't help wondering how much longer this would go on.
"You don't look so good, Sora. Do you want to head back to your dorm?"
"No, I'll be okay…I still have to walk you home…"
"You don't have to walk me home. I can get back by myself."
"But all the guys you pass will try to hit on you…"
Zexion stifled a sigh, swiping a finger across his Lexicon screen. Yes, the most satisfying victories followed long drawn-out crusades of great mental exertion…but this constant exposure to romance and matchmaking was growing exhausting.
"Even if they did—which they won't—I'd turn them down because I have you."
He glanced up to see Kairi patting Sora's spiky head gently. Sora mumbled something under his breath with his head resting on the table, earning a chuckle from Kairi.
At least their affection was tasteful.
"Maybe you'll feel better if you drink some tea," Demyx suggested. "Go order some for him, Zex."
The team's self-appointed leader, however, was still lacking in the art of subtlety.
"That is a sound recommendation, but why should I be the one to carry it out?" Zexion drawled, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
"Because you're the only one out of coffee."
His eyes flicked to each of their mugs and found Kairi's half-filled with mocha, Demyx's two gulps from finished, and his with a few drops drying at the bottom. He frowned, turning his gaze to Demyx.
And because that girl is working at the counter today, Demyx's cheeky grin sang in the silence.
Zexion narrowed his eyes. Of course. Demyx must have been waiting for him to finish his coffee first so he could justify dumping the suggestion on Zexion and making him carry it out.
"Green tea would be good." That grin was threatening to rip Demyx's face in half. "The caffeine in green tea helps with hangovers."
Well played, Demyx.
Jaw clenched, Zexion rose from his seat and took hold of his empty mug. "Enjoy your cold coffee," he muttered under his breath as he passed behind Demyx.
"I will," he heard him cackle.
Demyx had won the battle, but the war had yet to see its conclusion. This was not checkmate.
Zexion approached the counter and stopped to wait behind a female customer. The nerve Demyx had, using a hung over friend as an excuse to make Zexion talk to Violet. Zexion didn't need an excuse to talk to her. He was perfectly capable of going up to her and asking for another cup of coffee on his own, thank you very much. He wasn't socially inept. He and Violet had a pleasant conversation the last time he was at Fair Helianthus. He enjoyed her wit and appreciated her quiet sincerity. Her sense of humor was charming—
Wait.
His scowl deepened. None of that made a difference. She was just a barista and an acquaintance from a rare night out. How frustrating that he himself had become a chess piece to be swept across the board in flimsy attempts to trap him in romantic encounters with strangers for whom he harbored no deep feelings. When would Demyx understand that there wasn't a single ounce of romance in Zexion's body—
"Um, Ienzo?"
…Ienzo?
He blinked and found Violet staring at him with wide eyes. The female customer standing between them was long gone.
A few progressively concerning thoughts occurred to him: he had been momentarily distracted by his mental rant; she had caught his being momentarily distracted by his mental rant; she still thought his name was Ienzo; she had remembered his (fake) name from having met him several weeks ago; the realization that she remembered brought about a pang in his chest.
A pang. Again.
He stepped forward to the counter, deciding that he examine the odd occurrence later. It would've been rude to keep her waiting much longer. "Please excuse me," he murmured, setting his mug on the countertop.
A corner of her mouth turned up in a shy smile. "More coffee?"
"Yes, please. And a cup of green tea for my friend."
Her eyes darted to their table. "Is he alright?"
"Yes. He had a little too much to drink last night."
He paid for the drinks and moved to linger near the espresso bar. One arm crossed his chest while his other hand tapped his chin. Strange…Just what was that pang he felt earlier? He couldn't recall ever having felt such a sensation prior to his encounters with Violet. His thoughts about the barista were unusual as well…or perhaps Demyx's inane preoccupation with drowning Zexion in romance was influencing his perception.
Yes. This was Demyx's fault. That was the only logical explanation…and all the more reason to press on towards victory in this war.
"Here you go."
She returned with his mug filled with steaming coffee and a second mug with piping hot tea…and other ingredients added. "This is green tea?" he asked, peering into the mug at the mysterious strips and seeds sitting at the bottom.
"Yeah, but I added ginger and salted plum in it." She gave a breathless laugh. "It sounds weird, but it'll help settle his stomach and get rid of his headache. I make this for myself whenever I have a hangover."
His brow rose in surprise. She made this for Sora? How thoughtful…or perhaps she was just doing her job.
"If he wants to make it sweeter, then a little honey does the trick," she added.
But then, she had given him pesto with his bagel and cream cheese the last time he was here…She certainly didn't hesitate to go the extra mile…and she never expected anything in return, either…
Wait. Why was he analyzing this? What difference did her motive make? She was just a barista and an acquaintance. Nothing more.
Pushing aside his thoughts, he offered a small smile of gratitude. "Thank you. I'm sure he'll appreciate this."
Violet blinked…and then ducked her head, her bangs falling to conceal half of her face. "No problem," she mumbled before heading back to the counter.
He watched her amble near the cash register and the pastry case. Muddled perception or not, there was something very endearing about her. He imagined she'd get along well with Namine and Roxas; they shared the same quiet nature and witty sense of humor. Sora and Kairi seemed to like her well enough just from ordering coffee with her, too.
And, obviously, Demyx was interested in her.
He pursed his lips together. Yes, she was just the barista and an acquaintance…but she wasn't necessarily bound to that type of relationship forever…and perhaps the thought of changing that intrigued him a little…
"Need something else?"
He blinked and found her staring at him again. How long had he stood here watching her? And these thoughts he was having! Damn Demyx and his foolish…
His thoughts trailed off as he took a closer look at Violet. Indigo eyes glimmering with interest. Crooked, shy smile. Hands clasped in front of her.
Hmm…Perhaps she didn't want to remain just a barista and an acquaintance, either. After all…why else would she have given him her number that night?
But he would need to clarify something. She deserved to know the truth.
He let go of the mugs, taking a steady breath and bracing himself for an angry or shocked outburst from her. "I'm afraid I owe you an apology."
That smile fell. "For what?"
"I…" He glanced away for a moment, his heartbeat picking up speed (inconceivable—why did the thought of upsetting her make him feel nervous?). "I gave you a false name the night we met at the club. My name is actually Zexion."
She blinked slowly, her deep dark eyes staring at him. "Zexion."
Hearing his name on her tongue sent a pleasant trill through his chest…which, of course, was Demyx's fault.
Her smile returned brighter than before. "Thank you, Zexion. I'm Violet."
Soothing relief seeped through his chest (not that there was a logical reason for his nervousness in the first place). "Thank you for the coffee and tea, Violet." He took both mugs and turned to head back to the table…and immediately scowled at the grin exploding off of Demyx's face. Damn you, Demyx, for these strange occurrences and even stranger thoughts and for the exhaustion of this chess match.
Zexion glanced down at the mugs in his hands…and felt his scowl fade. Perhaps he could bear with the matchmaking and romance a bit longer.
Cloud let out a sigh, trudging through the kitchen and into the bar area. After having pulled a ten-hour shift for Cid (with at least six of those hours spent slaughtering Sephiroth in his head in countless creative ways as he rode Fenrir), all he wanted to do was sit with a beer and not have to think about work, especially not that damn gig he had the next day.
But of course that wouldn't happen.
"Hey Cloud."
He locked eyes with Imani who was standing behind the counter and wiping down a glass. Aside from her, there were only a few patrons scattered throughout the bar.
Cloud narrowed his eyes at her as he slid onto his usual stool. You.
Imani blinked owlishly. "What?"
You meddler.
Her lips twisted into a contemplative frown. "Is…this about Tifa?"
Of course this was about Tifa. Thanks to Imani and Zack and Riku, Tifa was officially sucked in to the modeling business and was set to shoot with the lowest scumbag in existence.
Realization lit her eyes. "Oh, right, Teef mentioned something about modeling with some other guy from your agency." Her face morphed into a cheeky grin. "Jealous?"
Jealousy had nothing to do with it.
She turned to the fountain with a laugh and started filling a glass of his favorite beer. "She seems to like it, you know. Says it's a nice change of pace from Seventh Heaven."
There were a million other things she could've been doing to find a change of pace—hiking or traveling or going to a movie or just taking a day off for once. Anything would've been better than what Zack and the Two Twerps got her into.
"Here," she set the filled glass before him and bowed, "I humbly present this as a peace offering."
It was going to take a hell of a lot more than a beer to smooth things over with him.
"Did you do something to him, Imani?"
Cloud turned to the new voice, his scowl melting when he saw a familiar younger man with dark side-swept hair and warm chocolate eyes. Well, well. Wasn't he a sight for sore eyes.
Imani gasped and dashed around the counter to jump into the man's open arms. "You're here!" she mumbled into his t-shirt.
The man laughed and glanced at Cloud over Imani's head. "It's been a while, huh, Cloud?" he said with an amused smile.
A corner of Cloud's mouth quirked up. "Good to see you, Aden."
Imani released Aden, dashing back to the other side of the counter. "I didn't do anything to Cloud this time," she called. "Want a drink?"
Cloud rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. This time, she said. That punk.
"Ginger beer." Aden sat down next to Cloud with a chuckle. "And Cloud's face says you're not being entirely truthful."
She just smiled and shrugged before ducking to grab a ginger beer from one of the fridges.
Playing innocent, huh? That smile wasn't going to get her out of everything…unless it was directed at Axel.
Speaking of which, did Aden know about Axel?
Before he could shoot a questioning look his way, Aden said, "So Teef and Zack mentioned something really interesting when they got me from the airport."
Imani popped above the counter again and grabbed a glass. "What's that?"
"Aerith's top student's been hitting on you."
To Cloud's glee, she flinched and almost spilled the ginger beer as she poured. "I don't know what they're talking about," she replied coolly.
Cloud hid his smirk behind his drink. Ah, karma.
Aden's smile softened. "Imani."
Seconds ticked away as Imani's resolve steadily crumbled under Aden's knowing gaze. She deflated with a sigh. "What else did they tell you?" she mumbled dejectedly, setting the glass down in front of Aden with a dull thunk.
"Zack called him a rave hopper."
"He's not a rave hopper."
"Oh?" Aden propped his head with his elbow on the countertop. "What is he, then?"
She crossed her arms. "He's just a friend."
Oh please. "For now," Cloud couldn't resist muttering.
Aden turned to him with raised eyebrows. "You know him, too? What do you think of him?"
"He's a good guy," he took another sip of his beer, "and he's serious about Imani."
Aden nodded slowly, giving a low hum as he sipped his own drink. When he didn't say anything more for several moments, Imani reeled back in shock. "That's it?" she asked. "You're not going to question why Cloud thinks he's serious?"
"Cloud wouldn't say so if he didn't mean it." Aden shrugged. "What, you don't agree with him?"
She pursed her lips together in a scowl. "We're just friends."
Cloud's smirk widened a fraction. That scowl wasn't going to hide much in front of her brother.
Aden sighed. "Whatever you say, sis. That won't stop me from trying to meet him."
"He'll be at the bachelor party."
Imani's jaw dropped at Cloud's words. "Really? Zack OK'd that?"
Cloud scoffed. He was Zack's Best Man and the victim of the groom's matchmaker meddling. He didn't need Zack's OK.
She laughed breathlessly, shaking her head. "Good thing you'll be there," she said with a nod to Aden as she grabbed another glass to wipe. "You can make sure Zack and Cloud don't kill each other."
"Should be a fun night," Aden chuckled. "Drunk Zack, drunk Cloud, drunk Dem, your friend—"
"Don't air-quote that! Like I said, we're just friends. Nothing more."
Like Cloud said, for now.
Aden leaned forward, crossing his arms on the countertop and staring down his sister. "Do you like him?" he murmured.
She said nothing, but the tightening of her jaw and the pink tinge in her cheeks spoke volumes.
With another sigh, Aden leaned back and tsk-ed. "Still stubborn as ever. You're gonna have to practice verbalizing your feelings. People won't know how you feel unless you tell them." He shot Cloud a sidelong glance. "Right, Cloud?"
Cloud looked away and took a swig of his drink. Leave him out of this. He didn't need three members of the Fair-Brisce family trying to egg him on about their Lockheart cousin.
He caught Aden shaking his head out of the corner of his eye. "Stubborn. Both of you. Not hopeless, though…but you are getting there."
"You're one to talk," Imani muttered. "All you do is work and study."
A long pause followed her comment. Then, Aden set down his glass, straightened in his seat, and quietly said, "Look."
That one word made Cloud turn back to Aden, whose dark eyes were no longer lit with humor. Imani's hands stilled.
"You two are some of the kindest, most caring people I know," he told them, "but few people have had the privilege of seeing that. You've both put up walls between you and those around you—those you're wary of, those you're not ready to trust. And I get it: putting your feelings out in the open for someone to either trample or treasure is freaking terrifying." A corner of his mouth turned up in a half-smile as he glanced at Imani. "Just…don't keep building against the people who're fighting tooth and nail to climb the walls to get to you," he turned his gaze to Cloud, "and don't keep hiding from the people who, rain or shine, have been patiently waiting for you on the other side."
Cloud breathed deeply. The pang in his chest at Aden's words was strong but not surprising. It was only a matter of time until the guy's wisdom surfaced.
But when did he become a love guru?
Aden saw his question and shrugged. "Desperate times call for desperate measures," he said, nudging Cloud's arm gently, "especially when it comes to people who deserve love as much as you two do."
He glanced at Imani and found her staring at the half-wiped glass in her hands, her eyes clouded over in deep thought. Moments passed before she carefully lifted her gaze to meet his.
A sad smile tugged at her lips. Someday, she seemed to admit.
Cloud's gaze softened. Yeah, someday soon.
He had woken up on a foreign sofa with a pounding headache and a folded slip of paper tucked between his fingers. Axel was long gone—class or floor duty at the medical center, Roxas had surmised—but he'd placed bottles of water on the coffee table for them. The three boys stumbled out of the apartment and back to the dorms soon after.
Along the way and even after having collapsed onto his bed, Riku couldn't help pulling out the slip of paper several times to frown at the six words scribbled to him.
Xion: Persistence. Commit it to memory.
Riku growled under his breath. He wasn't sure whether he was more bothered by the fact that somehow Axel knew about his trouble with Xion or that the redhead left him with a conundrum that appeared a lot like advice. Persistence? What the hell was this even supposed to mean? Was Axel telling him to be persistent with Xion? How was he supposed to do that when she'd literally run away from him the last time he saw her? He hadn't seen or heard from her in forever.
He missed her.
His eyes slid shut and he mentally cursed the pounding in his head. He still had no idea what he did to freak her out. The confusion ate away at his conscience. The memory of watching her recoil from him and dash out of the library that day was burned into his mind. Just thinking about the fear and shame in her eyes as she scrambled away from him made him cringe. Whatever he did must have been so bad that he didn't deserve to see her again. Maybe he didn't deserve her.
But he didn't want to lose her.
Riku grimaced. Man. Liking someone sucked.
A rumbling near his shoulder interrupted his personal pity party. Lowering the note, he groped around for his phone. It was probably Sora complaining about his hangover…
Hi
He stared in shock at the tiny message bubble. It wasn't Sora. It was her. Xion texted him. She'd never texted him first…but this meant she was thinking of him. Did she feel weird about not having seen him in forever, too? Did she miss him, too?
Hey. Get a hold of yourself, Riku.
He shook away the bubble of hope rising in his chest and the giddy grin on his face. Hi, he wrote back. What's up?
But seriously, why was she texting him first?
Her response came a few seconds later: Not much. You?
Ah, what did it matter? They were talking again…well, texting.
Drank too much last night. Head hur
He backspaced with a frown. It probably wasn't a good idea to mention being hung over. Him plus alcohol plus Xion didn't turn out to be a great equation the last time around.
Not much
Class today?
Nope
He watched his phone…but five minutes passed without a response from her. His heart slowly sank. Why wasn't she responding right away? Was she having second thoughts about texting him? No, maybe she'd set her phone aside to make herself lunch really quick and didn't see his message yet…but how long could it take to make lunch? It couldn't have required her to not look at her phone at all in the past five minutes. Ah man, she was having second thoughts. She probably didn't know what else to say and was going to leave him hanging for the rest of the day—
His phone barely buzzed for one second before Riku swiped his finger to read her response:
Want to hang out?
"OW!"
A colorful stream of curses flowed from his mouth from losing his grip of his phone and dropping it on his face. He sat up and groaned, rubbing his sore nose and reading her message over and over to make sure he wasn't imagining it…but no, she really was asking what he thought: Want to hang out?
But…seriously, what was going on? She'd never asked to hang first. He was always asking her. That bubble of hope was rising in his chest again. Did she forgive him for whatever he did to make her act weird around him? Would he really get to see her again?
He really, really wanted to see her.
He punched in, Sure. Meet at library in 15?
Ok
With those two letters, adrenaline surged through his limbs. His headache was long forgotten. He leapt from his bed and darted to his closet to rummage through his clothes. Whatever this was, he couldn't screw it up. He had to make things right with her. He had to prove that he was sorry for whatever he did to make her run away and that he cared for her and that she was important to him and that he would do anything to earn her trust again…
His hands stilled. Huh. Was this was Axel meant by persistence? Maybe the redhead was really legit…
Ah, he'd rethink that later. He snatched a random hoodie, yanked it over his head, ran to the bathroom, scrubbed his teeth, splashed his face, grabbed his wallet and keys, and sprinted out of the dorm. He couldn't be late to meet Xion. He could not screw this up.
Aerith was beginning to realize that planning a wedding in mere months was a little too much.
She picked up papers, jotted down notes, threw other papers to the side, scratched out the notes she'd just jotted down, skimmed through catalogues, clicked on webpages, and stuck countless sticky notes everywhere. Even with Dr. Bowen taking on most of her medical duties and appointments, she just couldn't keep up with the ever-growing list of things to arrange for the wedding—which, by the way, was just barely a week away.
What was she thinking?
She barely registered the quiet knock on her office door as she tossed another magazine to the side. "Come in," she heard herself mutter.
The door clicked open. "Hey," Zack's voice called.
The moment he stepped in, the questions burst from her mouth. "Favors—candles or balloons?"
Zack blinked as he shut the door behind him. "Uh, candles."
"Lavender or sweet pea?"
"S…Sweet pea?"
"Satin or velvet?"
"What?"
She frowned. "Ribbon for the candles."
"Satin, I guess."
He guessed? He guessed? Did he even realize the difference? Did he even care?
Aerith swallowed the sharp edge of frustrated from her voice. Breathe, Aerith. Breathe. Let the negativity float away. "Milk chocolate or dark chocolate?"
"Doesn't matter."
That negativity smashed into her at all angles. Just as she thought. He didn't care.
"Just choose," she grit out…and then added, "please."
He paused. "Milk, then."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
No he wasn't. He was just saying so in order to satisfy her. "You don't sound like you are," she muttered.
"You told me to choose," he insisted, a scoff lacing his words.
"Fine. Milk chocolate." She threw her hands up for a moment before scribbling on another sticky note. Honestly, what was the point of asking him if he didn't care? Did he realize how much time she was putting into planning this wedding? Never mind that they wanted to get married mere months after he'd proposed—did he realize how hard it was to plan a wedding in general—
A large hand wrapped around her wrist. "Aerith."
Breathe, Aerith. "Yes?"
Another hand took hold of her other wrist. "Look at me."
Reluctantly, she tore her eyes from her desk and met his gaze. Worry colored his blue eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked slowly.
Was she okay?
A sudden wave of warmth pressed against the backs of her eyes. She swallowed thickly and shook her head. No, she wasn't.
Zack quickly moved around the desk to her side and knelt down before her. "Oh, Aer-Bear…"
A tear escaped her…then another…She hiccupped helplessly. She felt like such a mess.
His hands let go of her wrists to gently wipe away her tears. "You're doing an amazing job planning this wedding," he murmured to her. "Seriously. I'm surprised you haven't snapped."
His voice soothed the frustration welling in her chest. With a shaky sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his. "I feel like I'm about to."
"I know. I'm really proud of you. I'm sorry I can't be more helpful." His hands took hold of hers and squeezed. "But hey, I want you to remember something."
"What?"
"At the end of the day, all we're doing is celebrating with people who love us. No one is looking to sabotage our wedding. No one will care if the ribbon is satin or…uh…"
"Velvet."
"Velvet. Those details are nice and our family and friends will appreciate them, but they're not coming to the wedding for the favors or the food or any of that. They're coming for us and they won't love us any less for a less-than-perfect wedding."
She slowly opened her eyes and found his beautiful blue pools sending strength and encouragement to her.
"I love you," he whispered.
Oh Zack. How could she have thought that he didn't care? "I love you, too," she sniffled. "I'm so sorry."
He smiled before pressing his lips against hers. His kiss was tender and gentle, chasing away the thick clouds of anger and stress that had been suffocating her.
Breathe, Aerith.
When he drew back, he murmured, "I think we should take a break from thinking about the wedding. How does lunch sound?"
At the mention of lunch, the emptiness in her stomach sharpened tenfold. They both burst into laughter. "Sounds good," she giggled.
"Good." He rose, keeping one hand around hers while the other grabbed her bag from the coat rack. "Let's go."
Her sore, puffy eyes blinked at him in surprise. "You can leave my bag. We're just going to the cafeteria, right?"
"No we're not." He shook his head as he led her out of the office. "We're gonna get as far away from this place as we can and we're not gonna mention anything about the wedding until after we get back."
"Where are we going?"
"Happy Mushroom."
The name of Zack's favorite fast food chain made her laugh out loud. "Aren't you supposed to be on a diet for training? What about Captain Hewley?"
He glanced over his shoulder and flashed a reassuring smile her way. "I'm taking care of you. He'll understand."
Aerith felt another wave of emotion overcome her. Oh Zack. What did she ever do to deserve him?
Author's Afterthought: Thank you for reading! Please leave a review and let me know how I'm doing. We're almost at the conclusion, I promise!