A/N: Not to sound needy or anything, but... where'd everyone go :'(
Song is "Human" by Civil Twilight
"Quite the charmer," Zalera said, glancing back at Cass' apartment complex. "Useful, though."
"To a point."
"Have any idea what he was lying about his apartment for? Should we be concerned?"
"You caught that too." Lightning pulled out her comm, thumb hovering over Dornum's contact information. "Cass wants to keep secrets. Let him keep his secrets. I have one job, and that's to ensure Hope's safety. Cass can look after himself."
"Can he?"
"He's a runt, but he's smarter than he looks. More resourceful than I give him credit for, and he wielded that gun with the purpose of using it. He's in trouble, but I'm not about to stick my nose in a situation where I'm not wanted."
"Unless it concerns Hope."
Lightning ignored the humor in Zalera's tone. Was she really that predictable? "You got it."
Lightning felt something shift, a zinging sensation rushing up her spine. She held her hand up, her other tucking her phone away before it went to her hilt. "Something's up." The air felt stagnate, heavy. An eerie quiet pressed down upon the city. Lightning's gaze drifted over their surroundings, noticing that everything was eclipsed in an unnatural stillness. Cars were paused mid-motion, civilians frozen in time. There was no wind at her back, though the clouds drifted overhead and a flag flapped in the distance. Time stopped around them, leaving them in their own little bubble. A picturesque, snow globe scene. "What are the chances that this doesn't have something to do with us?" Lightning asked, rhetorically.
"Zero." Zalera took hold of her chakrams, body tense as Lightning's. She stared, bewildered. "He used to do this. Rarely, but…"
"Who?"
"Yeul's-" Zalera stopped, her body taking a fighting stance as hatred tore apart her expression. "Son of a bitch."
Sebastian.
He was ahead of them. Standing with his smug grin that Lightning was going to rip off with his head. Just as she had done before. There was another rush up her spine, leading Lightning to notice the others grouped around them. Fourteen, by her count. More cloaked figures and dread shook Lightning to her core. The last time this happened, Hope was taken. He was tortured. She barely got him back. He still wasn't back. Not completely.
She wasn't going to let it happen again. They weren't going to distract her while Hope was in danger. Despite that sense of panic, the urgency telling her to run, leave, save Hope, she wanted to tear the man to shreds. He stood in front of her, alive and smiling and maker, did Lightning want to reduce Sebastian to liquid waste. She seethed, her grip tightening until her arm shook with tightly wound anticipation.
Fury.
Fear.
"My fair guardians," Sebastian called out, his arms extended as if welcoming them. "I have missed you both."
Lightning felt her reason slipping, her boot turning in his direction, her body ready to leap at him. Slice him apart. If beheading him wasn't enough, she would take every limb from him and more. Force them down his throat.
"I'll kill you," Zalera said, her voice low and cold. Then she screeched, "I'll kill you!" and the fight was on. She swiped her chakram across the throat of one of Sebastian's people. The spray a red line that she tore across.
Lightning lunged for her first prey, catching a faceless, cloaked bastard off guard as she slashed her blade across his chest. He fell with a wet thud as she went for another. Red took over Lightning's vision, the deaths of these people her single-minded focus. She was a rabid dog that had been let loose, teeth and claws ready.
Firing three shots from her gunblade, Lightning aimed at another's face. The bullets bounced off of an invisible barrier, that of a protection spell. Lightning switched gears, ducking in below the barrier to knee him in the stomach. He lurched forward, allowing Lightning to sink her blade into the back of his neck. These people were cocky, cowardous bastards, relying too much on their magic. That last one seemed surprised that she had gotten past his spell, too shocked to react in time.
A chakram swooped past Lightning, expertly maneuvering around Lightning's outstretched arm before it hit another opponent. Lightning turned back, watching Zalera fight with roaring force. Lightning's attention was drawn back as a sharp cold rippled up her ankle. She looked down to find her foot frozen in place. Two l'Cie approached and Lightning jerked her leg to free it with little success. Lightning ducked a dagger only to grunt at the blast of heat that caught her side. She sucked in a breath, dodging another blow from a fira as she slid out her foot and swung her body to the right. Pivoting, Lightning twisted her immobile ankle to the point where it screamed in opposition. She caught the flamethrower by the legs, slicing across their kneecaps before stabbing upwards through skin and muscle and into his mouth. Blood gushed down her arm, gurgling from the l'Cie's mouth until she ripped her blade free.
She turned to meet the other, his dagger already zooming in her direction. The metal of his weapon was sheathed in an enfire, flames crackling off of it. Lightning let the weapon in, closer, closer, until she swung her gunblade down, parrying the attack. The force of her swing brought the dagger to her foot where it shattered the immobilizing ice in an instant, granting her freedom to move. She slammed her foot down onto the hand of her attacker, loosening his hold on his dagger. She shot four shots into his back, his body spasming as each bullet struck home.
"I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you! Every last one of you!" She could hear Zalera yelling, but she was farther away now. Lightning looked, catching Zalera take out two attackers until she was picked up and tossed into the street by a third. Her body collided with a car, rolling over it and down to where Lightning could no longer see her.
"Zalera?! Are you-?"
Lightning took a punch to the jaw that threw her from her feet. She flew into a lamppost, the metal groaning as she struck. There was a cracking sound and Lightning could feel the collision in her spine. It jellied her limbs, but only for a moment. She found her footing just before the l'Cie – a bulky woman with a three-clawed scar across her face – dove for her. Lightning took another punch, to the stomach, the chest, the cheek, until she swung her elbow out. The l'Cie caught her haphazard swing, but wasn't watching for the gunblade as Lightning aimed it at her. Lightning took another hit just as a bullet fired, lodged between the woman's first two claw marks.
Lightning stepped forward, restraining a cry as pain from her ankle and back jolted her body. She nearly crumbled, but caught herself on her gunblade, stabbing it into the ground as she held herself up.
Hope. Hope needs you.
Lightning pulled herself up, flipping out of the way of another l'Cie. He grabbed her calf, snatching her out of the air and slamming her into the wall of a building. Lightning could feel her breath seize and something in her shoulder snap, but she kept going, wheezing as she stood. A gloved fist came toward Lightning's face from the lanky l'Cie that had grabbed her. She snapped her head to the side, watching as the fist flew into the wall before she kicked the l'Cie's legs out from under him.
"You're quite the fighter," was all the man got to say before her blade ripped through his face, skewering him.
"You have no idea."
A ways away Lightning could see Sebastian making his way toward a distracted Zalera, the woman engaged in a four against one battle. He had his eyes on the elder, but Lightning knew that he was speaking to her.
"And just think. Last time this happened, my queen was whisking your charge away as we fought. I wonder what she shall do with him now."
Fury burned through Lightning. Her rage vanished just as quickly as it ignited when she realized just how close the man was to Zalera. Without her notice, Sebastian's sword came toward Zalera, ready to slice her open.
"Look out," screamed Lightning, but she wasn't fast enough. The blade swung across Zalera's abdomen. Her blood sprayed the ground. She followed it, falling forward at Sebastian's feet. "Poor Zalera. You can't seem to protect anyone, can you? Not either of your tribes. Not Yeul. Everyone dies while you're too weak to do anything."
"Get away from her!" Lightning swung her blade, but it struck against Sebastian's shell. Her gunblade flew from her hand. Sebastian laughed as it landed, a clang of useless metal. Lighting smashed her fist into his laughing, monstrous face. Sebastian hardly seemed surprised, using her attack against her as he gripped the back of her hair and slammed her head down into a car not once, not twice, but three times before he let her body fall to the ground next to her fallen blade and comrade. Her vision faded, blinking in and out as her eyelids fluttered.
"It seems that this would be goodbye." His blade was then summoned back into his palm, ready for battle. Sebastian brought it down toward Lightning's still form, plunging it toward her chest. Lightning's eyes shot open as she rolled away from the descending blade. With a pained smirk, she gripped her gunblade and stabbed it into the man's chest. She was ready to stab again and again until there was nothing left but bits of the large man. He would bleed. He would scream. She would make him beg for his life.
But
She blinked.
The world was right again. Cars rolled by. People walked, talked and laughed. Stop lights blinked from green to yellow to red. Zalera and Lightning were back as they originally were, facing each other, Lightning's comm in hand, Dornum's number at her fingertips. All marks were gone. Injuries nonexistent. The scene around them left unmarred.
Wide eyes stared into each other's, leaving Lightning to mutter a quiet, "What the fuck?"
The conclusion the two had reached as they entered Hope's driveway was that the fight hadn't occurred. Not to the rest of the world. Zalera and Lightning knew that they fought the group of l'Cie. Nearly lost. Nearly won. Lightning could feel the pain still rippling through her body like a rampaging storm. There were no marks, no blood. Her shoulder no longer throbbed and her skin no longer burned. Her spine didn't feel like it was snap, crackle, popping. But the echoes of the fight still remained burned in her memory, the pain a phantom that traced its fingers along her limbs.
Lightning had called Hope the second her thoughts congealed back into the present. He answered, and she felt the world as real as the concrete beneath her feet. Hope was fine. Laughing at one of his friends as they said something just out of earshot. Hope hadn't been taken. He hadn't been touched.
"You on your way back yet?" Hope asked, eager.
It made her question herself, yet again.
If Sebastian hadn't fought them to distract her from Hope, then what was their motivation?
"We can't tell him," Zalera said. She looked up at Hope's house, her eyes bouncing over the heads of each guard, counting. "Or anyone, for that matter."
"Hope could be in danger. We can't not tell him."
"Whatever happened, it was intentional. They came after us for a reason. Actually, Sebastian targeted you for a reason. They didn't go near Hope. You know why."
Lightning placed a hand to her head, remembering the crush of her facial bones as she was slammed forth into the hood of a car. She was a weakness. For as much as Lightning lamented about Hope being her Achilles heel, one of the only two people that could bring her to her knees, she hadn't thought about how much of a weakness she was for Hope.
"Castea is using you against him, using her tricks to get him to follow her agenda by attacking you. Because no matter what, the one thing that will get him moving is you."
Lightning fisted her hands, grinding her fingernails into her palms. She didn't like being used, utilized as a damsel needing to be rescued. She hated this. "Those bastards. I don't care what they're trying to pull."
"Even if they succeed?" There was a cockiness to Zalera's tone, the elder privy to insights that Lightning was not.
Lightning didn't care. "We should get the damn things already. We aren't getting anywhere with this. Instead of continuously avoiding the problem, let's face it-"
"And get Hope killed?"
Hope's previous injuries flashed in her mind. His body gaunt from malnourishment. The haunted look on his face. He could have died. Countless times he faced death. He struggled forward on willpower alone. By thinking of Lightning, of her stupid words.
'Fighting without hope is no way to live, it's just another way to die.'
She was one to talk. What hope did she have? She willed herself to save Serah, but her sister was still a crystal. She willed herself to save cocoon, yet it was stuck frozen in time. Now, she was betting everything she had on Hope.
Ugh, he is the only hope that I have now. I feel as embarrassed about his name as he does…
"Get the rest of the world and ourselves obliterated? That's all that will come of getting those damn crystals." Zalera was on a tear, despite having already convinced Lightning. Lightning made no move to stop her. "You don't know what will happen. You didn't see it. Yeul did. She saw a world decimated, people incinerated before they could think to run. Or your precious Hope dying while trying to stop it." Zalera gripped Lightning's shoulders tightly, pressing her fingers into Lightning with such uncertainty like she was still trying to get a grasp on reality. "Your first instinct is to fight, to protect at all costs. I don't blame you because it's mine too, but nothing good will come of the crystals. This time we have to wait and figure out a strategy to take Castea down."
"We should still tell them. Tell Hope. He needs to know, to be prepared."
"No." A sigh fell from her lips as Zalera let go. "You and I both know that will only set Hope off. He can't know."
They entered the house to a roaring bustle of activity. There was guffawing laughter and uncontrollable giggling. A scream blasting through television speakers jerked Lightning's attention before there was a hyper cry of "That's what you get for walking around in your panties. You die first!" from Lebreau.
They entered the living room in time for Zalera to duck a flung card from the group on the floor.
"No!" Maqui shouted, throwing another card with avid disdain. "You do not get to hit me with another draw four. I have a book already. A god damn novel. Pick a different card."
"That's not how Uno works, Maq," Hope said with a wheezing laugh.
The sight was all it took to settle Lightning. She knew Hope had been fine. But seeing him, smiling, joking, being shoved over by the arm of a friend as he whined over Lebreau stealing a peek at his cards, made her heart calm. She realized then that Zalera was right. Hope didn't need to know, to get more worked up and angry and afraid than he already was. He deserved this moment of reprieve. He deserved happiness.
Maqui, Lebreau, Yuj, and Hope sat in the middle of the living room, tossing Uno cards at each other. Rygdea and Sazh were in the corner, talking around a lazy game of darts. A slasher film was on the television, some naked woman being chased by an axe-wielding maniac. Not one of the four on the floor noticed them enter. Rygdea caught Lightning's eye, giving her a welcome nod, the tilt of his lips an obvious 'He's all right. Got his back covered.' Like she was the open book and not Hope.
Hope excused himself, standing and taking the other entrance out. "You guys are such cheats."
"Boo," Yuj jeered. "Gonna go cry in a corner?"
"I'm getting water, you jerk."
"Oooh, grab me a Coke!" Lebreau called, flicking a wild out. "Yellow."
"You've got to be kidding me! I almost won," Yuj lamented and Maqui cackled in his face.
"That's what you get. Snag me a Fanta, Hope."
"Get it yourself!" Hope's voice echoed.
Lightning bumped Zalera's shoulder as she followed Hope, tossing her a look. Zalera nodded.
"I can't stop it, can I?" Lightning heard Hope as she closed in on the kitchen. "I can't stop what's coming." He was standing in front of the refrigerator, one hand holding a glass while three fingers pressed deep into his brand. Hope huffed a breath through his nose, wavering as his fingers slid up his wrist, circling around where the marks from restraints had once been. Lightning felt a touch closer to Hope after her latest encounter with Sebastian. She got a glimpse into Hope's feelings, knew what it was like to feel wounds on your body that nobody else could see. To hide trauma in your mind like it never existed.
"Harleen was wrong. It's not Zalera that doesn't belong. I'm the monster. I should be isolated from Academia, Cocoon, everyone… I'm no better than Castea."
"You don't believe that."
Hope jolted, the glass falling from his grip. It hit the side of the counter, shattering on contact. Hope cringed at the sound, seeming to startle for an entirely different reason. Fear emanated from Hope's body, and Lightning could see that no matter Hope's words he was still shaken from the events of the previous day. He looked with the same clouded eyes he had woken with in the hospital, held caution in his body like a survival instinct.
His guard was up, but Lightning eased it back down. She took his jackrabbit jumpiness in stride, regarding him with a studied nonchalance. "It's just you and me here," she said, soothing until she realized that maybe it wasn't. Was there a third presence in the room? Another occupant in his mind? "Right?"
"Yeah," Hope breathed, blinking and it was only then that Lightning realized that his eyes had remained wide, wide open. "Just us. Its. It's just us."
"Good."
"Yes."
Lightning leaned in. Hope pulled her into a hug before Lightning could fully offer one. He breathed in, his nose in her hair, holding on to her with such childlike desperation.
"Good. It's very good. Can we… stay like this? For a bit?"
Lightning hated how her thoughts wandered to the living room. Lebreau or Maqui could come looking for their drinks. Sazh could come check on Hope in concern.
"I've got nowhere to be," Lightning decided. She moved closer, glass crunching beneath her boots as she settled into the space left to be filled. The unspoken buzzed in Lightning's body, burdening her footsteps, her arms as they gathered him in.
I can't tell you.
Hope slipped his tie free, retying it for the fourth time. Or was it the fifth? Nerves jangled in his bones. Left him scrutinizing himself with a dissatisfied frown. Hope still didn't feel like he belonged in his uniform. Now this. The suit felt two sizes too big, snug in the collar, despite having been tailored to his body. "I feel like a ghost," Hope said, yanking on his collar for the umpteenth time. The jet black made his complexion appear even pastier, bones jagged.
"I like the vest," Zalera complemented, meeting him at the bottom of the stairs. "Matches your eyes."
"I feel like we're going for a theme, here," Hope joked, gesturing to Zalera's strapless green dress and glittery green heels. Her hair was up in a softly curled ponytail that bounced with each step, beads click-clacking.
"I called it first," Zalera complained with mock petulance. "Get your own color."
"What is with your obsession with green?" Lightning asked from atop the stairs. Hope looked up, stilling as he watched her descend. Lightning was a sight to behold. Her deep purple gown was simple, accentuating her curves and flowing down from mid-thigh. It was strapless with a sweetheart neckline, open backed, crystal-like gems lining the curves of her breasts. Her hair was up in a sock bun, the strands shimmering in a way that Hope was probably imagining. I don't sparkle, he could hear her scoff already. A light make-up dusted her face, her lightning bolt necklace dangling around her neck.
"Breathe, Hope," Zalera reminded, and he felt his jaw being pushed shut.
Hope swallowed as Lightning huffed her way down the stairs. "I knew I should have chosen something more suitable for mobility…" Lightning adjusted her skirt with a curled lip before looking up. "It's impolite to stare, Hope." A humored quirk melted her frown as she took Hope's tie in her hands, knotting it before slipping it into his vest.
"You look gorgeous, Light," Hope managed.
Lightning rose a brow. She looked down at herself, clicking a heel down as she made a skeptical noise in the back of her throat. Her eyes scanned up Hope's attire, and he wondered if it was too late to get a tan. A lighter suit. Something that didn't make him look like a specter in waiting.
"You don't look so bad yourself."
Hope smiled brightly, holding out an arm. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"
The Grand Hall was where the soiree was being held.
The building's construction had been funded and built by the Harleens, its space devoted to the family's whims and agenda. This included speeches, fundraisers, galas, balls, any events that helped accrue their family's wealth or further the patriarch's political career. One such event was the annual soiree held in Kori's honor. It was a birthday party that had been a traditional, city-wide affair back in Palumpolum. On Cocoon, the soiree was a celebration of Kori's existence. On Pulse, the said reason behind the soiree was to celebrate life. 'Because the fall of Cocoon taught us to appreciate and cherish the lives we were given'.
Right. That is exactly what tonight is about.
Hope had a hard time containing his dubiety.
The hall was crafted almost entirely of marble, its height a sizable two-hundred feet. Stone steps led to an intricately carved archway, decorated with filigree etchings. Angels were sculpted into the walls, their arms stretching toward the sky, seeking solace, wisdom, an explanation, or so Hope thought. Above the entrance were the words 'We shall live on'. This had been a common phrase in the early days after the fall, when the remaining Cocoon populace needed motivation and resolve in the face of adversity. Inside were polished marble floors and high ceilings that amplified sound. Mahogany tables with silk tablecloths were set around the rim of the dance floor beside pillars that were purely decorative. There was a stage before the floor for entertainment, performances or speeches. An orchestra held the floor for the night.
"I would say that this all seems incredibly pretentious," Lightning appraised, her voice low, conscious of the joy-filled citizens buzzing around her, "but I doubt that it's of popular opinion."
Hope adjusted his tie again, moving a hand to fluff his bangs self-consciously over his half brow. "No, you're right. What is titled as a monument of hope is more aptly known as a shrine for the wealthy and powerful. My father lobbied against this building's construction. He lost, obviously."
"Why was he against it?"
"The amount of money that funded it could have fed all of Academia. Half of the populace was still living in camps when it was proposed. This is a place that serves to further separate the classes of our society, polarizing people who should be brought together. This building is just another place that is stunning in its structure, but disgusting in its purpose."
"I thought you didn't judge people by their wealth. Such as Kori."
"I don't. I judge them by what they do with it. This," Hope scuffed his shoe on the marble gown of an angel that protruded from the wall, "is a waste that our economy doesn't need to feed or foster."
"Kicking angels?" Maqui approached, shaking his head in a show of disappointment at the display. "That's downright sacrilegious."
"Every year, Maq?" Hope countered. "I figured you would stop wearing those to formal events eventually."
Maqui gasped with dramatic flair, a hand before his mouth as if he'd been personally affronted. "Never! I will wear my goggles until the day I die."
"He wears those things in the shower, man," Cass added. He poked a finger under the band, pulling the goggles up from Maqui's head just enough before letting them snap back down, a pained yelp succeeding the action. "It's the only committed relationship this dude will ever see."
"No respect," Maqui grumbled, hands a barrier over his goggles. "I get absolutely no respect."
"Where's Yuj and Lebreau?" Hope asked.
Lebreau popped up from behind the quarreling Cass and Maqui, pulling at the hem of her thigh-length dress decorated with black and violet swirls. "Yuj… didn't feel up to this. The dancing and the schmoozing. To be honest, I'm having a hard time mustering up the spunk." She smiled a broken smile, one that ached for the missing member of their team.
Hope swallowed against his guilt. "You don't have to strain yourself."
"Aw, it's alright. I think, though…" Lebreau pitched herself into Hope's space, teetering forward on her high-heeled boots, her hands poking and prodding at his face. She was wearing gloves, her lacy fingers feeling extra textured on his renewed skin. "We should do something about this." Lebreau pulled him over to the side, around the bend of a column, and slipped something from her purse. It looked like a silver pencil. "Brought this just for you."
Hope jerked himself back as the sharp-pointed pencil encroached upon his eyebrow. "You want to put make-up on me?" His voice pitched like he was a bratty fourteen year old going through puberty again.
"You want a full two eyebrows?" Lebreau asked, expression smug because they both knew the answer.
Hope looked skeptically between the pencil and Lebreau, before giving a reluctant nod. "I'm just lucky that she didn't take my hair."
"Eh. You could pull it off." Lebreau leaned in, and Hope did his best not to cringe. "You'd look like a hot monk or something."
"Or something."
When Lebreau was done, she flashed a pleased grin, hands on her hips, before she passed him her compact for a mirror. He had to admit, it was a professional-grade job, looking as natural as an eye pencil could accomplish. She added some gel to the front of his hair, swooping his bangs from his face. "There. Ever the dashing prince."
"Thanks, Lebreau. I feel… a little more me now."
"You're always you," Lebreau patted him on the arm with hard smacks, refusing to treat him like he was breakable the way everyone else did, "two eyebrows or not."
"Very nice," Sazh acknowledged, clapping as Hope and Lebreau made their way back to the group. Hope bowed with a fluttering hand.
"I thought she was gonna fix your face?" Maqui asked.
"At least my face can be fixed. That's more than I can say for your personality."
"Buuuuuurn," Cass laughed, hooking an arm around Sazh's neck. "How's the overgrown chicken?"
Sazh cuffed him over the head. "How many times do we gotta go through this?"
"Not a chicken. Right. Got it," confirmed Cass as he rubbed the abused area with a pout.
"Not winning any popularity contests tonight, Cass," Lightning gibed.
"When is my baby brother ever popular?" Kori decided to make an appearance then. Their group broke apart as she entered their circle. "But he looks dashing in his tux. Aren't you just so adorkable?" She mussed up Cass's hair. Cass bit at her hand and Kori yanked it out of reach.
"It's wonderful to see you too, sis. I am lookin' pretty sharp, huh? More than I can say for you. Jeez, Kori, I don't know if I can even be seen with you." He turned on his heel and walked away, diving into the mass of attendees.
"You little punk, get back here," Kori hollered. "Whatever." She rolled her shoulders back into a proper stance, wiped the annoyance from her features and pasted on a prettified smile. Adorned in a quarter-sleeved gown of a deep blue, Kori looked every bit the part of an entitled heiress. Black roses were embroidered into the material, looking velvety in their smoothness. The dress hugged her midsection and cascaded down to the floor from her waist. Her red hair was in an updo, a few strands intentionally framing her heart-shaped face. "Anyhow, I'm touched that you all made it. There's a buffet table over there if you're feeling peckish. Don't hesitate to dance, drink, mingle. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have guests to entertain." Kori curtsied out of their group, turning and engaging an unsuspecting couple.
"She's a completely different person around her brother," commented Lightning.
"Pretty much," Lebreau replied. She leaned over, a hand cupped around her mouth as if spilling a secret. "They're actually really cute."
A shrug of the shoulders was Maqui's response before he said that he was starved and was going to check out the food, Lebreau and Sazh in tow.
"Hope! Light!" a child's voice called. They turned to find little Arden running up to them, an exasperated Jun searching from behind. Hope caught her eye, assuring her that he would watch him. She smiled, sitting at a table with a grateful nod.
"Hey, Arden. I see you're causing all kinds of ruckuses for your poor nana again." Hope bent down to ruffle the kid's blueish-purple locks.
"Hey! Nivien combed that for me," Arden scolded with a pout. His hands rushed up, tiny fingers combing the strands back down.
Hope rose a brow, suddenly very conscious of Lightning at his side. "She here?"
"Yup, she came over to help us ready and drove us here. She's been coming over bunches lately. She cries a lot. I think she misses her brother."
"Ah," was all Hope could reply with as he stood up.
"Don't you look all handsome," Zalera said, and the awkwardness dissipated. She crouched down in front of Arden and held out her hand. "What's your name, cutie?"
Arden giggled and blushed at the attention before thrusting his hand out to shake hers. "I'm Arden Rosch. I'm eight years old."
Lightning's eyebrows shot up at the surname and she turned toward Hope with quiet surprise. Hope frowned.
"Hondura Lin Zalera, twenty-six."
"That's a long name."
"Not really. You can call me Zalera. Why don't we dance, Arden?"
"Okay!" The boy did an excited little shimmy before grabbing Zalera's hand.
As the two walked off to the dance floor, Lightning turned to Hope, "Rosch, huh?"
Hope sighed, picking up a small plate and munching on the colorful selection of hors d'oeuvres. "Yup."
"Relative?"
"His son."
"I didn't know he had a son... His job and his duty was his life. I can't imagine him as a family man…"
"It's not common knowledge." Hope took a bite out of a chocolate-coated raspberry, mmm-ing at the flavor. "Rygdea said that Arden's mom was just a one night stand and that Arden's existence hadn't changed anything for Rosch. He remained focused on his ambitions and his career. Arden's mother raised him on her own. Jun was a part of Arden's life far more than her son ever was."
"But Jun said that Arden's father was still alive and crystallized in Cocoon. He died."
Hope chewed for a moment before swallowing. "He was presumed dead. His body was never found. He could still be alive up there. After all, we last saw him alive before-"
"Don't you remember hearing the explosion? You don't really think-"
"I choose to hope," spoke Hope softly. "And so does Jun. I don't have the heart to tell her of my suspicions. It was her son."
Lightning clicked her tongue in a way that conveyed disapproval, but acquiescence. Lightning wasn't the type for false hope and half-truths. But there was a comfort in them that Hope couldn't deny Rosch's family. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."
Lightning's voice sounded unusually pinched and Hope wondered if he was missing something. Yaag Rosch had been a blip in their lives. A villain, maybe a comrade in the end. An earnest soul that lost its way, sucked into the wicked machinations of a higher being. Had Lightning known him? Or was this a lingering, second-hand sadness for a parent and child connection cut too soon? Was she thinking of her own father?
"How are my guests today?" Harleen asked, his tone polite, amicable, but there was a viciousness in his eyes, a vendetta there from their last encounter.
Before any rash actions could be made by the quick-to-anger woman at his side, Hope simply wrapped a reassuring hand calmly, yet sternly around her upper arm. He didn't feel the need to return Harleen's fake smile, replying with an equally, if not mockingly, polite response. "Simply marvelous, and you?"
Harleen began to reply, but was cut off as his daughter joined his side. "Daddy's doing wonderfully, aren't you, daddy? He's going to be a kind and gracious host to everyone tonight, right?"
With a practiced, politician's smile and a nod, Harleen hid his disagreeable nature. "Of course, my dear," he agreed, pulling on the bottom of his elegant cream-colored suit jacket as he bowed before his two guests. "In fact, I have others to greet. If you will excuse me."
Kori sighed as he walked off. "I don't know what he has against you. I apologize for his behavior."
Hope waved off the apology as he took another bite.
"Anyhow, I wanted to also say, Hope, that I know you're going through a lot. I hope you know that I'm always here." She leaned in to him, a hand on his arm and her lips grazing his ear as she said, "For anything." Hope choked on his food, Kori smiling prettily as she spun herself around, her gown elegantly twirling around her, and sauntered away.
"What a thirsty line," Lightning groused.
"You heard that?"
Lightning served him a look. "Pretty sure the world heard that."
He could feel the miffed aura wafting off of Lightning. He felt an odd sort of pride, even as his blush stained down his collar. He twirled the dainty two-pronged fork from his hors d'oeuvre between his fingers. "You're cute when you're jealous. You have the most adorable pout."
Slamming her heel down on his foot and ignoring the hiss of pain, Lightning crossed her arms. "I'm not pouting, I'm scowling. And I am not jealous of that princess."
"Sorry. That's the most adorable scowl," Hope amended, "that I have ever seen."
Hope looked down into her face, for once unobscured by the spikes of hair and the shadows she hid in. Hope wondered if there would ever come a time where he could know her thoughts, understand her feelings with a look alone. He longed for that closeness. He wanted to bend down, rest his lips on her forehead, let his fingers drift along her neck, her back, soak her in, this beauty that she radiated effortlessly.
His plate was set aside as he stepped closer. Lightning smelled of warmed over orange peels simmering in ginger. It was a distinct home smell, crafting a nostalgia of domesticity and safety and comfort. It settled inside of him, curled up with his soul.
"Director! Director, we were just discussing the 742 initiative." A smartly dressed man swung towards him, a swarm of followers at his heels.
Not the time or place. Not now, at least.
It was Hope's first time amidst a crowd since he'd been taken, yet he remained steady, wrapping his greetings with a tidy, bow tie smile. He worked the room easier than Lightning would have credited him, that young, awkward, teenage mess. A state leader. Doling out handshakes and social pleasantries and kissing babies. Maybe that last one was a stretch. He was led from group to group, finishing up one conversation before an arm would direct him into another. His smile was unyielding, energy tireless and captivating. His nerves, that she knew were there, couldn't keep him down. His head remained high no matter the questions he was battered with. He stepped into the high life of a socialite with ease.
It was embittering to see Hope grown this way. As proud as she was of the man that he had become, it was hard to face the burden he held, to watch him accept the weight of their society with little resistance because he was selfless and compassionate and too good for this world. Lightning wanted to lift the weight off, slip a few hundred pounds off the bar and give Hope rest. Carry it herself.
Lightning minded herself to the side, watching, ready. That was her job. This was a job, not a date, Lightning reminded herself as Nivien closed in. As Nivien wrapped an arm around Hope's and asked for a dance in front of a gathering of guests so Hope had no chance to decline. She added, "For old time's sake," in a small, pained voice and it was settled.
The two entered the dance floor, Hope rigid until Nivien took hold of his hand and rested it along the curve of her back with a disarming smile. Their steps were fluid, pace perfect. They moved with a practiced grace that spoke of their time together. They appeared stolen from a picture book. Nivien's red gown attracted all eyes, the dress fitted to her figure, its shade complimenting her ebony skin. The sweetheart neckline was lined with black beads that curved around the top of her bosom, trailing down to curl around her left hip where Hope's hand laid. And Hope… sweet, sweet, tall and handsome Hope, all wide shoulders and wild hair and a dimpled smile. Arms that held Lightning. Hands that healed. Long fingers gentle with care. Lips that cushioned their kiss. Eyes that were labrynthinian in their depths. Lightning couldn't deny his attractiveness, how suave he seemed out there, even as she adored his awkwardness when alone with her.
Lightning found herself feeling out of place. Wrong. A thief stealing something that didn't belong to her. A dragon separating prince from princess. Was this the place that she belonged? Watching? Protecting?
A surge of possessiveness took hold, roiling Lightning's insides. She wanted to be on that floor, Hope around her, spun around by his hand. She hated dancing, had rejected Hildough's invitation forty-five minutes before. She created a boundary, wanted professionalism to rule over their relationship in public. Yet the feelings burned strong.
"I never expected to fall in love with you," Nivien said.
Lightning's ears perked. She remained a shout's distance from Hope, but Lightning kept her senses focused, her aura like a protective orb around them. Her eyes swept over any surrounding people, though her ears threaded together bits of their conversation until it pulled together.
"When we met, I thought little of you, I admit. I just thought of you as the director's son. Nothing more. But then I got to know the incredible person that you were- are. Intelligent, sweet, strong, determined… irresistible to every cell in my body. Truly beautiful, inside and out. I loved how we were together."
"Nivien, I-"
"I'm sorry. I know you've moved on. This really isn't fair of me."
"Nivien, let me speak. I never expected it either. To care for you as much as I did. I don't know if it was love, but it was a kindred spirit if nothing else. After all of that l'Cie stuff, and falling for... I never imagined feeling for anyone else romantically. You blindsided me-"
"Careful, Lightning, your jealousy is showing."
Her concentration broke, and the rest of the world sifted back in. The music. The din of conversation, footsteps, clinking dishware.
Lightning could have bitten Cass. Made him bleed.
"Retract the claws, kitten," Cass laughed. "Nivien is a good person. She respects relationships. And Hope would never do anything to jeopardize his future with you. You can calm down."
Lightning felt like a pufferfish coming back down to size. "You better get that hand off of my backside before I put you in your place."
"In your bed?"
"In your grave," growled Lightning.
"All right, all right." He drew his hands up in a surrender. His tie hung loosely around his neck, his suit jacket unbuttoned and shirt no longer tucked. "I don't feel like getting mauled today."
"Speaking of..." Lightning thought back. His broken face. Torn clothes. Tornadoed apartment. "Yesterday, I don't buy that party bull shit. Was it your father?"
"You give my father's rage too much credit," responded Cass, leaning back on a pillar as he crossed his arms languidly behind his head. "Doesn't matter what you buy, it was a damn good party. Unlike this one."
"A party that involves taking an ax to the walls?"
"Some people have got some weird kinks." Lightning noted the usual guarded behavior, an unidentifiable gleam in his violet irises.
"Right," replied Lightning skeptically. Both of them took to watching the dance floor. Hope and Nivien. Lebreau and Maqui. Sazh and a woman Lightning had never seen before. Kori and Hildough broke apart at the end of the song. He bowed and she curtsied, drawing a tsk of amusement from Lightning. The girl seemed so far removed from reality, from the dirt and grime and blood and violence that Lightning had to go through to achieve this peace, that she inspired a humored derision in Lightning.
Cass snorted. "I take it you're not too fond of my sister?"
"I'm surprised that you two are so close. With what happened with your dad, I wouldn't blame you."
Hope dipped Nivien. She gasped as her heel caught on the floor, Hope catching her before she could fall. They shared a brief moment, in each other's space, eye to eye, lips inches from lips, before Hope spun her back into step.
"I quit holding my misfortune against Kori a long time ago. It's not her fault that she was born first. That she was the child of his wife and I his mistress. It's not her fault that she was born from love and I from lust."
Cass' sincerity caught her off guard, but was refreshing. "So the only ill will you hold is toward your father."
"In this instance, yes. The difference between my mother and my father is, to my father, I was his shame, his embarrassment. To my mother, I was her pride, her triumph, her gift..." Cass cocked a half smile her way, then bounced his brow in Hope and Nivien's direction. Lighting swung her gaze back, as if she'd missed something in that second's glance, and Cass ducked away.
Lightning watched Nivien's hands tighten on Hope. "Just one more song, Hope?"
"Nivien," Hope said, and Lightning was surprised by his tone, admonishing as if she had stepped over a line. "I'm glad we could talk like this. I really am. But this isn't my place anymore."
"And this isn't mine." Nivien looked at Lightning, catching her intruding gaze. Shame burst through Lightning like a hot flash, but she held strong, hand on the hilt of her blade by way of explanation.
The two parted. Hope looked to Lightning, gaze remorseful and penitent. Lightning could hardly let herself feel angry with those sad doe eyes. She shook her head, walking toward the side doors that led to the gardens, knowing Hope would follow. Silence swallowed them, hovering in the buds of roses, balancing on the petals of camellias and lingering in the shadows of orchids. Moonlight spilled through the clouds, tinting the gardens with a silvery hue.
"I would have preferred to dance with you. You know that."
That quickened her pulse, made it jump right into his palm before it leapt back out. "'I don't know if it was love, but it was a kindred spirit if nothing else.'" Lightning tossed his words back at him, the ones that had been corroding her thoughts like poison. Her retort was toxic and childish, but damn him those words hurt in a brutal, black and purple bruising way.
If he cared for Lightning so much, why couldn't he wait for her?
Fight for her?
Instead he fell into another woman's arms. Was his love so fickle?
She was being unfair, she knew, but she couldn't help but ask him to lick her wounds.
Hope could have acted offended, affronted, been justified in his angry gibes or taunts back. His answer was confoundedly heartfelt, lacking any venom like her toxic spew had slipped right off of him. "I care about Nivien. I won't deny that. I care for her, but not even close to as much as I care for you."
"The way you danced together…" Her throat closed in, words tumbling upon each other. This affected her so much more than it should have and Lightning wished that she hadn't come. She wished that she'd been allowed to wear her uniform, been his guard instead of drifting inside of a fantasy where they were there together.
"Friends dance, too."
"Not like that."
"Don't you trust me?"
The exasperation in his tone gave her pause, if only for a moment. "I damn sure don't trust her."
Swiftly, Hope cupped her cheek and gave her a brief, lingering kiss. It simmered there, the heat of him, boiling over her temper. "Believe me when I say that Nivien and I are over. Yes, we have history, but that's just it – history. My future, for as long as you'll allow, lies with you."
"It's not like me," Lightning said, some form of apology stumbling out of her as they rode home in Hope's car. The quiet quelled her emotions, thoughts reflecting off of the tinted windows as shadows of the city passed behind them. Zalera stayed behind at the Hall, comfortable in Jun and Arden and Sazh's company. Hope let Lightning be after that moment in the garden. My petulant fit, she dubbed it. What an outlandish version of herself. Truly bizarre of her to let her jealousy fester and stampede them into a semi-public lovers' quarrel. "To be like that. I don't know why I snapped at you. I'm sorry."
"I'm not."
Lightning looked over in his direction, wishing that he would blush, stammer, look even the tiniest bit ruffled or rattled. Be the Hope that she knew. And he was. Even without the squirming, the uncertainty. In times where he was truly passionate, conveying his deepest thoughts or speaking out in bursts of moving speeches, Hope remained moored. His conviction shot through his more timid nature, a firework that demanded attention with a gut-quaking boom and a soul-stirring brightness.
"I like that you're different with me. Makes me feel special. Wanted."
Lightning could feel the tips of her ears burn. Her feelers perked in the driver's direction. She caught Dornum's glance in the rearview mirror before it swerved forward.
"I don't."
"You can open yourself up to me and know that I won't hate what I find inside."
How do you do this? How do you always find the right words?
"How can you know? If you don't know what's inside, how can you know that you won't hate it?"
"Because it's a part of you."
Lightning's hands gripped tight to the seat beneath her. She shifted, thighs tightly bound in her dress and her stomach feeling unfairly restricted. Uncomfortable as she was, she felt some form of equality as she sat there, dressed up beside him. The soldier and the director stood on the same platform. It was a night that Lightning had been willing to kill to end, but as they pulled into Hope's driveway, the tires crunching on gravel and the wind whispering through the leaves outside, she found disappointment in an opportunity missed.
"If you could spare a moment, Miss Lightning," came a polite rasp as she swung open her door. Dornum had turned his body around the wheel, looking back at her with a ruffled brow and whiskers twitching. "I would like to speak with you."
The man had never asked a thing of her, duty-bound and kind. Yet…
"I'll stay in sight, next to the door guards. I'll be fine." Hope replied cheerily, as if that was her only misgiving. His door clicked shut. She watched him walk away, wondering if he wasn't relieved in some way.
"May I inquire as to what this disagreement is about?"
Lightning's fingers tightened around the seat, her heels clicking together as she shifted her legs like she had a mermaid's tail. "There's no disagreement."
Lie.
Dornum's smile indicated his insight, but was far from patronizing. "I imagine you're not one with many relationships under your belt, correct? You keep to yourself and work mostly, am I right?"
Lightning struggled not to take offense. She wanted to tell the man off, shoe his nose back out of their business. Weren't there enough people dropping hints and advice in her lap these days?
"It's nothing to be ashamed of. I ended up marrying my first girlfriend. We met and started dating when I was twenty-three. A late bloomer in society's eyes, but it was just the right time for me. We had thirty-one years of a blissful marriage. Until the fall."
Her anger evaporated. Disintegrated like ashes in water. Fingers unfurled from the fistfuls of vinyl. She refused to look away from the sliver of his sorrow that she was permitted to see. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not looking for an apology. We had our time. All I'm saying is that you shouldn't let your inexperience get in the way of what's blooming between you and Master Estheim. He's a fine young man and he'll do right by you, I can assure you of that." Dornum twisted back around, looking out the window. Lightning followed his gaze to spot Hope's glowing bush of hair. He was smiling, chatting with the guards and one clapped a hand to his back, nearly knocking him forward. "I have watched him grow into himself and his emotions, heard him speak as he settled into his own realizations about life and love. His feelings for you run deep, Miss Lightning. With all that I've had to see him suffer through, it would be nice if he had something good in his life." Dornum stood from the car with a fair share of creaking bones and popping joints, tugging open Lightning's door and standing aside. "Have a good night."
Throat tight, Lightning nodded, her chest brimming with reassurance. "Thank you."
The door closed behind them, the sound amplified in the quiet, ending the night like a punctuation point. Hope drooped at the sound, and Lightning wondered if she wasn't the only one who had been disappointed by the night's turn.
"Thank you for accompanying me," Hope said, a sigh in his voice as his fingers fumbled with his cuff links. Lightning could already hear the goodnight on his breath, see him retreating to his room. She stopped him by diving in, crashing her lips against his and kissing him with a fervor that she had denied all night.
"You're mine, Estheim. Don't forget that. I don't want to see you in another woman's arms again."
Hope beamed, kissing her back with equal passion. "Do I detect a bit of jealousy? But I thought that thee Lightning Farron doesn't get jealous."
"Shut it," Lightning said, tugging his tie loose and pulling it free. She kissed at his neck, his pulse beneath her lips. Beating, racing. The sensation of it enthralled her. His hands gripped her sides, her upper arms, careful as they held the bunch of her hair to pull her back to face him.
"I never get to see this much of you." Hope's voice was a rumble travelling deep into her belly, his fingertips tracing around the curves of her face, and Lightning knew that he wasn't just talking about the openness of her face. "Am I dreaming again?" His hand held the side of her neck, his thumb brushing over her lips, back and forth, back and forth, in what was one of the most intimate, want-inducing gestures that she had ever experienced.
Lightning kissed at his thumb, took his hands to kiss across his fingers, brushing her lips across the callouses of devotion and the sharp edges of bones that spoke of unfathomable pain and isolation. Lightning shook her head against his as their foreheads met. "No. Never. Dreams are never as good as this."
Hope laughed, and Lightning could smell the sourness of raspberry on his breath, taste it lingering from his kiss. "The only thing that could make this better," Hope's eyes took on that puppyish begging look, "would be getting to dance with you."
"Hoping to show me your moves?" Lightning joked, lips puckering to the side. "From what I saw, you weren't too shabby. Your footwork could have been better, your tempo a little fast, but all in all okay."
"I didn't know I was being critiqued!" Hope ducked his head down, eyes scrunching in embarrassment. Feet shuffling. He opened the eye beneath his penciled brow, peeking at her. "I suppose you know how to dance then?"
"I was a part of a dance troupe for a brief period of time." It was Lightning's turn to be embarrassed, turning her gaze away. But Hope held her steady.
"So that's where your grace comes from. I'm impressed."
"Hmph."
Hope pecked her cheek, almost like an apology as he pried further. "Care to share a few moves with a novice like me?"
His expression was sprinkled with such excitement, his feet bouncing him where he stood, that Lightning hadn't the heart to deny him. She didn't have time to worry over the years turning her once polished techniques rusty. The flutters of embarrassment were barely a sputter in her chest. "I suppose it couldn't hurt."
Hope nabbed her hand the minute she finished speaking, whisking her away upstairs. He was quick, bounding up the steps, pulling her along and she stumbled in her dress, heels clacking clumsily behind him. He tugged her into the library, the most spacious room in the house. The heavy curtains to the window-screen were open, moonlight streaming in like a glimmering spotlight.
"Twenty-nine," Hope commanded, but the view didn't change. The beginnings of a song drifted in from the surrounding speakers. Hope bowed before Lightning, holding a hand out. "May I have this dance?"
Lightning couldn't help her chuffs of laughter. He really was too much sometimes. "Hmm. It's almost like you planned this."
"Maybe."
Lightning took his hand, pulled him in chest-to-chest close. She focused on this moment, now, and every point of contact as they took their first step to the song.
There's one way out and no way in
Back to the beginning
There's one way back to home again
To where I feel forgiven
The first verse was a fumble. Getting a feel for each other. Matching rhythm and limbs and breath as they laughed at mismatched steps. It was nowhere near the ease of Nivien and Hope's dance. Lightning had to swat that insecure comparison away. Hope winced and apologized as he caught the edge of Lightning's dress, ducking his head and laughing in her ear. Lightning felt herself loosen, and Hope reigned his nerves in, and it was suddenly easy. In Hope's hold, moving along as one.
What is this I feel? Why is it so real?
What am I to say?
Green eyes glowed as they looked down at Lightning, shimmering with as much captivating, healing power as his cure. The moonlight haloed the swoop of his silver hair, and Lightning was admittedly glad that Lebreau had fixed his brow and stolen the shadow from his face. She held on tighter to a strong shoulder that carried a city, to willowy fingers that squeezed back. Unabashed. Uninhibited.
It's only love, it's only pain
It's only fear that runs through my veins
It's all the things you can't explain
That make us human
It felt almost magical. For someone who never believed in magic. She was someone who once held the power in her hands, the sensation, the reality, the gravity of magic, and still found herself in a state of disbelief. But this… this felt like magic. Bright, tingly, lighting up her chest like a strand of twinkling lights. Left her awash with childlike glee as if Santa had just come down the chimney. Christmas. Hope made her feel like a child on Christmas. Despite knowing that Santa was just a drunk in a cheap suit hired to promote consumerism, that presents weren't measured by a child's benevolence, only by the wealth of their parents, and that the decorations on a tree only prettified its death, she could still feel that wonder and magic in Hope's presence. His smile and open arms were like tinsel on the tree.
I am just an image of
Something so much greater
I am just a picture frame
I am not the painter
Castea did not exist. The l'Cie war did not exist. The New World Threat did not exist. The world itself did not exist. All that existed was the two of them as they danced together, Lightning engulfed in Hope's aura. They were two people lost in a moment, tied together by strings stronger than fate. Academia, Cocoon, the world, be damned. They could dance and pretend that they weren't dangling above a cliff by their throats.
Where do I begin? Can I shed this skin?
What is this I feel within?
Was there a name for this feeling?
Happiness.
This was what happiness felt like. Smelled like. Sounded like.
Lightning wanted to protect it. Hold it in her hand and curl her fingers around it. Place it in a locket and hang it around her neck.
Strange, so bizarre to think such dewy-eyed, painfully girlish thoughts.
Lightning, a solitary soul bent on living life on her own terms, by her own rules. The people that she loved could always bring out the impossible in her.
It's only love, it's only pain
It's only fear that runs through my veins
It's all the things you can't explain
That make us human, that make us human
That make us human
Though they had gone on a perilous journey, faced countless monsters and blood-thirsty villains, and held tremendous power that they had once thought to be myth, they were just two people bound to one another. Two people with insurmountable strength of will and heart. Two humans that overcame everything in their path by finding strength in each other.
It's only love, it's only pain
It's only fear that runs through my veins
It's all the things you can't explain
That make us human, that make us human
That make us human, oh, that make us human
The song ended and they danced to a stop. They didn't break apart, remaining still, eclipsed together. Lightning dragged the moment on, spurning reality with as much willpower as she could muster. Her head on his chest. Listening to the thrum of his life.
"You're so beautiful." Hope's awe-filled words tumbled loose.
Lightning snorted, pulling free. "Really, Estheim, what do you take me for? Has it really been that easy for you to get into a girl's pants?"
"I wasn't trying to- I was just complimenting- Light," Hope whined, taking her teasing as an affront. "What do I strike you as? Some sort of ladies' man?"
Lightning snickered, light-hearted as she began ticking off all of Hope's possible conquests. "Let's see… Nivien? Obviously. Kori?" Lightning swiped a finger against Hope's ear, ridding him of the lipstick smudge that the princess had left behind like a calling card. "Possibly. Alyssa? Most likely-"
"I am not a man whore," he snapped defensively, shouldering at his ear. Hope's cheeks pouched with indignant air and it was admittedly adorable. "I don't sleep with women just because they may be enamored with me. Do you really think that I would take advantage of someone like that? For your information, I haven't slept with any of them, thank you."
She couldn't keep the stun from her face. "Not even Nivien?"
"No... not even Nivien."
"You act like you regret that."
He smiled, sad but reassuring. "It's not regret, just... guilt. For stringing Nivien along and for... trying to move on... from my feelings for you."
Lightning's stomach curled into itself, feeling forever ashamed at having thoughts that travelled along the same vein. What did she expect from him? Endless devotion even before she had developed her own feelings?
"You didn't owe me anything then," Lightning asserted, articulating her words carefully, tasting their intentions in her mouth. She kicked off her heels, relishing the freedom as she flexed her toes. "Hah," she breathed. She tried to act as unaffected as possible, treading cautiously over feelings that were like glass beneath her feet. "You don't owe me anything now."
"I know," he nodded, sounding utterly unconvinced. "I know. I still… feel like I betrayed you somehow."
"Hey," she leaned in, whispering her words across his lips, "we're here now. That's what matters." She teased a kiss towards him, waiting until he closed his eyes and edged closer, before poking him in the forehead with a chuckle.
Happiness. Christmas. Magic.
Lightning felt so much in that dust-laden, moon-hued library that she wasn't sure that she could contain it. That she deserved it. It was so much. Too much.
She wanted more. Reduced to a child that made grabby hands at the cookie jar despite having already drained it of its contents. Feeling a fool by her uncharacteristic giddiness in the face of bliss. She wanted more.
And Hope was there, offering it wholeheartedly. His future. His love. The gift of himself. Her hesitance was eroding, urging her to take, take, take. Mark, mark, mark. Claim, claim, claim. Base in her desires. Feral in her want.
Was love supposed to be this destructive? This… consuming?
Lightning didn't know.
That was the scary part.
Zalera took another shift at Hope's side, overseeing his security during his string of early meetings before lunch. Lightning still felt uneasy leaving him in her care, his charred hairs and destroyed display case vivid in her mind. Hope was right, though. For all of Lightning's talk and experience, she was fallible, too. Lightning decided that she could share the responsibility, trust in others.
She stood in the stasis room, breathing in the recycled air, listening to it push through the creaky vents. The temperature was neutral, lukewarm, seeing as those that the room housed could feel nothing outside of their own fantasies. The temperature, the gusts of air, were meant only for the visitors staring into sparkling, impassive faces.
"How does it feel to always be right?" Lightning asked Serah's crystal, glancing at the door, assuring every lock was in place, the camera at her back limited to picture. "Love… does make a person happier." Lightning smiled, then relaxed the muscles of her face with a sniff. "I guess."
Serah did not answer, but Lightning imagined her face, a big, surprised smile, her body bubbling with giggles, an I-told-you-so gleam in her eyes. Her sister would glomp her with a hug, her tiny body weighing nothing in Lightning's arms.
"When's the wedding?" she could hear Serah ask.
"You know what this means? Double wedding!" Snow would shout, whooping like a buffoon.
Silence whispered over her thoughts. She looked over at a crystallized Dajh, nodding toward the boy as if it were rude not to. She wondered if Sazh had such thoughts, imaginary conversations with his son. If Hope had done the same with her.
"You didn't owe me anything then."
Her own regret surfaced as she thought of Hope's loneliness, his pining at the base of her crystal, standing there like she did at Serah's now, muscles growing stiff and heart growing stiffer. Hope didn't owe her anything, but maybe Lightning was the one that owed him. Lightning couldn't shake the feeling that she owed him a lot. A wealth that she did not own.
"Hello, dear," cooed a voice from behind.
Lightning whipped her gunblade out, pivoting on her heel to face-
Oh my god…
The woman waved with a lazy turn of her hand. Lightning kept her eyes on her, watching as she walked her way over towards Serah, placing an unwelcome hand on her sister's crystal. The woman watched back with striking gray eyes and white hair, draped in a thick, white cloak. Her features were relaxed, untroubled despite entering enemy territory and staring down an enemy soldier.
After snatching and torturing their leader.
Lightning's gun was up in a flash, her finger firing and firing and firing and firing, satisfaction in the pull, delight in the recoil as each bullet shot forth. Rage as Castea's face remained unchanged, her body unmoving despite the danger. The bullets struck against her shell, the magic a shimmering shield as the bullets disintegrated into dust sprinkling the floor.
"Oh, honey. You think your bullets can harm me?"
Lightning's lip curled and she jerked her weapon into blade mode. She took one enraged step, preparing to lunge forward, gouge her blade through that woman, but she felt her muscles seize, bones infused with a stony heaviness. She couldn't move. Her muscles strained, stretched, pushed, yet all it did was ignite panic and a helpless fury.
"Aren't you just darling?" A chuckle fell from cold lips. Everything about the woman spoke of death, her mere presence unsettling in that bone-chilling graveyard way. From pale, pale skin, to the stretch of her smile, to the intentions swirling in her storm cloud irises. "I have been waiting to meet the guardian and her pretty sister. Have to admit, I expected more of a challenge." Castea's hand came up to Serah's face, petting at the crystal with faux-fondness.
Get away from her, you sick bitch! Nobody touches Serah. Nobody touches Hope. I'll make you regret making an enemy of me. I just have to move, dammit! Lightning could feel the strain in her body as she pushed against whatever ability this was. Not even her tongue would move as she cursed the woman in her mind. Sweat dripped down her temple, fatigue setting in though she couldn't summon a single motion. I have been the fall of many, yet I cannot strike the likes of you?!
"You're fighting it." With a wolfish grin, Castea stepped closer. "Good, you act like the protector you claim to be."
Lightning's nose stung, blood dripping down from her left nostril as she strove to move, to speak, to do something. This was her opportunity to eliminate the threat. Protect Serah and Hope. Avenge Hope. Leave Castea with nightmares and panic attacks. See if this ghost could bleed.
Castea circled Lightning, a sneer on her features. "Hope's been ignoring my prodding, but I think this might be the one thing that throws him in my direction."
I won't let you use me to get to Hope. I won't!
"I heard that you've been asking about our time together," Castea hissed into her ear, mocking Lightning with her proximity, lips a blush against the curl of her skin. "Are you sure you want to know? Because I can grant that wish."
Bony fingers settled on Lightning's forehead, touch like the caress of an icicle. They slashed against Lightning's pride, an ultimate provocation as she could do nothing to rid herself of them.
"Let's take a look."