Breakfast is a Dish Best Served Cold
A gentle trickle of sunlight peeked through the bedroom window before settling onto Hope's sleeping face. The darkness within his eyes was replaced by a shade of red, prompting the young man to peel his eyelids open. Hope stirred reluctantly in his place in bed before wrestling his body up into a seated position. He groaned and moaned while outstretching his arms in front of him and curled his toes before finishing off with a protracted yawn. He stared ahead at the bedroom door while gathering his strength to graduate from keeping his eyes open to taking that first step out of bed towards the bathroom. The sheets around him shuffled, and he felt a gentle grazing against the skin of his bare leg. The young man quickly diverted his eyes towards his side.
There was a woman there. She was disheveled. Her plain t-shirt, as modest as the design of the garment was, was not modestly draped across the woman's body. The shirt had ridden high up on her body to expose her midsection and the first couple of inches of the base of her bare left breast. One of the woman's legs had escaped the clutches of the bedding and found itself hanging over the side of the bed opposite Hope. The sheets themselves appeared to have made their own escape during the night revealing the woman's bare left leg and the elastic waistband of the woman's panties. Modesty's last-stand had prevailed, however, as the woman's opposite leg and most of her groin remained covered. What was more striking, however, was the expression on the woman's face.
Hope considered her visage as she lay beside him. Her expression was that of… contentment, comfortability. Perhaps she was too comfortable. Hope's finger approached the woman's cheek before gently, cautiously, and softly wiping away a drop of drool escaping the corner of her mouth. A smile drew across his face and he recalled the position he was in, and why he was not alone in his sleeping place when he woke up this morning.
She and I… are dating now, Hope thought to himself, his smile widening as he withdrew his finger from her face. Hope paused after his thought had passed. The thought was sentimental despite its recent inception, sure. It was divine even, but it wasn't quite right.
She and I… are getting married… Hope's second thought was much felt much more secure as memories of their completed marriage license application flooded his mind. They all but needed to go to the city clerk's office and submit it. Hope brought his knees to his chest and buried his face in them as he attempted to steady himself amongst the wave of embarrassment and excessively warm feelings that swarmed him.
Hope turned his head to the side and peeked at her once again. His desire to burn a few more images of the sleeping Soldier into his mind before leaving her side outweighed any embarrassment he had. After several moments, Hope lifted his head and considered a unique realization:
This was the first time in a long… long time he had seen his friend sleep so well, so… peacefully. Hope had spent many a night by her side. A thousand or so years ago, he and the woman made makeshift camps all along Cocoon and Pulse. While those memories were neither free of pain or difficulty, he took his promise to her very seriously. While she may not have realized it, when Hope had promised to protect her (despite how futile that promise may have seemed coming from a weak teenager to the Guardian Corps' arguably most combat adept fighter), he meant it even if he had to watch her sleeping body. A thousand or so years later, that sentiment had become no less relevant. During his time on the Ark in the previous world's last thirteen days, he enjoyed every moment he had with the woman in-between her daily outings. Making her food, patching her wounds, tending to her clothes and gear, making up a place for her to sleep on the furniture provided, these experiences and efforts were all things he chose to cherish with every fiber of his being. There was the very likely reality that perhaps she and the young man, despite every effort they made, could still fail in their attempt to save what remained of the world. Hope recalled watching her sleep on the Ark and his own desire to share a sleeping space with her. He was incredibly lonely without her presence despite watching her every action and movement during her travels, but the desire to request sharing a sleeping space together was grossly outweighed by his desire to give his friend the space she needed to heal and recover. Though the logic of this process seemed infallible at the time, Hope wondered if it was really true. It was funny, really, how being a thousand-years-old only served to complicate his feelings more.
Hope pulled the woman's t-shirt down over her abdomen and draped the top sheet across her bare leg before peeling himself away from the bed. Hope walked around the foot of the bed to the other side and knelt down beside the woman's sleeping body.
"I'll always be here," He whispered before gently placing his lips on her forehead.
Hope left the woman's side before tip-toeing to the bathroom to relieve his bladder. After washing up, Hope left his current bedroom for his former bedroom before digging up a pair of lounge-pants from one of his boxes of clothes. After putting the pants on, Hope dug around his scattered boxes in search of something else. His next task required a unique article of clothing. Fortunately, he had more than one, which made the process significantly easier.
After finding what he was looking for, he put on this piece of clothing and stepped out towards the kitchen.
Light woke to the sensation of sunlight on her face. The sunlight that had crept into her bedroom earlier that morning had made its way from Hope's side of the bed to hers. The woman stirred under the sheets as she yawned, her arms searching the side of the bed opposite of her. Light's fingers became frantic as they searched in-between the folds of the sheets. Such efforts were futile, however, and the woman sat up in bed as a sense of concern grew within her.
Am I… alone? She thought to herself as she clutched at the fabric of her shirt overlying her chest.
Lightning offered her words after her eyes assessed a confirmation of her sourroudings, her loneliness included. "Hope? Are you here?"
Light paused, her concern only growing the longer she waited without a reply.
Memories of the night before began to creep into her mind. These memories included changing clothes in front of him, fretting over the scar on her body, Hope's gentle touch as his fingers grazed the gently raised yet firm tissue overlying said mark on her skin, climbing into bed together, holding hands as they fell asleep, and then….
Light put her head in her hands as her thumbs furiously dug into her temples. The pink-haired woman was not without memories of what came next. The restlessness she felt in the middle of the night, the sense of… urgency she felt in the recesses of her nethers… the absolutely, unequivocally most embarrassing request she could have possibly made to the man she had just barely started a romantic relationship with. What felt worse however, was remembering his compliance to her request and what came next.
Light's fingers continued to dig into the sides of her head. Etro's sake, why the fuck did I do that last night?! I can't believe I went ahead with it! I should have gone into the fucking bathroom and taken care of it and let him go back to sleep. Shit… I bet he didn't get any sleep after that. Maybe he went back to his old bedroom when I finished? I mean… who would want to sleep next to some sex-crazed moron like me… I am so fucking embarassing...
Light's shoulders sank as her self-deprecation gave way to depression. Residing herself to the idea that her former bedmate had decided to return to his former bedroom, Light reclined back into her bed and tucked her legs to her chest before pulling the comforter over her head. If she was going to let these thoughts consume her mind, she could at least be physically comfortable when doing so. She pondered how she was going to face him today with a few ideas tossing around inside her head:
Should I apologize, maybe? This idea seemed like the path of least resistance. It acknowledges her actions last night. It acknowledges her request, potentially even the position she had put Hope in without stating it outright. Lightning was not without knowledge of the big limiter to this approach. Hope would be eager to accept, perhaps even offer an apology of his own, She thought to herself. The more she played out the scenario in her head, the more she felt like she was right. Hope routinely put his friend before himself.
Should I pretend like nothing happened? Light was surprised by this idea, or really not the idea in and of itself but how easily she felt accepting to it. She was never one to run away from a problem, but of course, she was never one to fall in love, share a bed with a man she had been in a romantic relationship with for less than eight hours, and then ask if she could masturbate while he held her in his arms as thoughts of him flooded her head. In her mind, there were three problems to this approach. Firstly, it denies the gravity of what happened the night before. Masturbating while having thoughts about someone while that same someone is not only sharing your bed but holding you in his arms… by her own request no less… This required acknowledging even if only for the sake of her own sanity. Secondly, as with the first approach, Hope would probably be too eager to accept this pretense of silence. Hope could follow suit like nothing happened, but what then? How would they face each other again? Would they just simply keep sleeping in separate beds like nothing happened? The third problem with this approach was a bit less than… cerebral. Pretending like nothing happened wouldn't solve the problem of her future urges. Light wasn't so naive to believe she couldn't be capable of masturbating to thoughts of him again, maybe even today if she couldn't keep her fucking shit together. The events of last night and the lamenting of her thoughts this morning continued to give herself the impression that she was losing control.
What if… I asked him if it is okay to… maybe… do it again? This thought almost felt foreign to her, as though it wasn't her own but by the inception of a completely separate individual with her own unique thought process and decision-making paradigm. Light was certainly a changing woman. She failed to consider that this was likely the result of not only the rapidly changing circumstances of her personal life but also the influence of her evolution in terms of identity. She wasn't just a woman, a friend, a sister and sister-in-law. She had a couple new identities in tow including that of a wife (or very soon-to-be), and potentially a daughter-in-law to her new spouse's parents. To anyone with an etic point-of-view, this would be a logical conclusion to Lightning's current state of internalized conflict. However, to a woman who had gone from friend to wife (with zero in-between such as girlfriend, fiancé, etc.) to 'sharing a bed together and masturbating to his touch', this was… well beyond the boundaries of what one woman could compartmentalize, even for the former Savior of the world.
"Light, can you hear me?"
"Light? I said 'good morning'. Are you hungry? Remember, we are supposed to go see my parents today, so we should eat soon."
Lightning's attention slowly drifted back towards the present, a familiar voice beckoning her ever forward.
"Light, are you okay?" Hope offered, a concerned expression settling onto his face as he looked at his soon-to-be wife.
Light quickly met his gaze with her own as the cavalcade of ideas in her head slowly dissipated. Light frantically sat up in bed as her hands clutched at her bare legs, desperate for a piece of fabric to wrestle with. "Um… wha oh… I um…"
"I called out to you five or six times and you were just kinda… motionless and... muttering to yourself…" Hope tried to search for the right words but failed. "Light, are you okay?... Light?…Light?"
Light snapped to attention, her chin pointed straight at the young man. "Yeah? Sorry, I was just thinking about… something…" Lightning's voice trailed off as she eyed her husband's attire.
"I asked if you were okay," Hope offered again, "So, are you okay?"
Light nodded before clearing her throat. "Umm yeah. I'm okay. Do I not look okay?"
Hope stepped towards the side of the bed and knelt down, his eyes now level with hers. "You look okay, but if you are coming down with something, it would help if I did this."
Light used every piece of willpower she had to hide her surprise as Hope gently grasped the back of her neck with his hand and pressed his forehead against hers.
"Hmm…." Hope began as he assessed the woman, "You don't feel like you have a fever."
Light gently pushed him away with her hands. This was a sudden and almost unwelcome transition from where she had been moments before, lost in her own thoughts. Barely able to face how she would approach him this morning, this amount of attention from him only served to fuel her consternation.
"I'm fine." As the words left her mouth she immediately regretted them. She didn't enjoy the idea of lying to him, and if the events of the past 12 hours (including her actions from the previous night) had any say in how she felt, she was not quite as 'fine' as her tone suggested.
"Uh… sure," Hope replied, forcing himself to move on, "I'm sorry if I woke you this morning. I tried to make as little noise as I could when I left the bed."
"You slept here last night?" Lightning's question demanded an answer, a sense of urgency that her voice carried.
"Of course I did. Where else would I have gone?" Hope stared at the woman, his thoughts a mixture of confusion and anticipation. It wasn't like she was absent of mystery, her aloof nature had certainly been present in the many multiple centuries worth of history the couple shared. Hope perused the alternatives his short-term memory would allow in relevance to the 'where-else-would-I-have-slept-last-night' conundrum. However, despite the relative brilliance of his young, scientific mind, he was at a loss.
"When I woke up and you weren't here in the bed with me, I thought you went back to sleep in your old room after we uh… I- um, you know…" Light couldn't bring herself to say it. She wanted to face what happened last night, but not like this, "I was worried I might have grossed you out..."
"Nope. After your orgasm, I put your head back down on your pillow and kissed your forehead and then we went back to sleep," Hope replied, rather bluntly, "I was able to fall back asleep no problem. Actually, after that I think there was one other thing you mentioned you wanted to do as well. We can-"
Hope was interrupted by the whining sound of a stove-top kettle coming from outside their room.
Hope chased the sound, his body disappearing beyond the frame of the bedroom door and around the corner towards the kitchen. "Hey Light, I have some hot water ready. I can make some tea or use some of that instant coffee and creamer you really like. Which sounds good to you?" Hope called out.
Lightning desperately tried to suppress her urge to hyperventilate, swallowing air repeatedly. How the fuck can he say something like that so easily?! She thought to herself as she clutched at her chest. Embarrassment was only a part of the lived experience that was this morning. The other side of the spectrum being not quite anger, but something in-between. Whatever it was, it was part of the many driving forces that produced the conflict she felt within her. Part of her was grateful to him, sure, but deep down Lightning couldn't help but curse her own sex drive. She was left to wonder whether it would become more of a disruption in their upcoming marriage.
"Light, can you hear me?" Hope called out again.
His voice barely overcame the waterfall of thoughts that drenched the woman's mind. Light did her best to reciprocate as composed as she could muster. "I- I'm coming."
As Light exited her room and rounded the corner towards the kitchen, she was met by the site of her soon-to-be husband fussing over the stove top. An assortment of eggs and bacon were sizzling on a pan as Hope retrieved two mugs from the cupboard above the stove. He set both the mugs on the table before placing a tea bag inside one of them. Hope then pointed towards the empty mug. "So, what'll it be? Coffee or tea?"
Light's gaze had settled on his body, fixated by what she saw before her. "Apron." She replied softly.
Hope looked back at her, his brow furling. ""Um… pardon?"
"Apron," The woman said again, "You're… wearing an apron."
"Um… yeah, it's an apron. Light, the water doesn't stay hot forever. Can you tell me if you want coffee or… um….. What are you up to?"
Hope's word's were interrupted by the embrace of his friend. Light had gently approached him, her arms slowly coiling around his ribs as she pressed the side of her crimson face into his chest. The young man allowed for several moments to pass before interrogating her once more.
"Um… Light? What are you doing?"
Light let out a heavy sigh before pulling herself closer into him. "This is… just a lot… Just let me do this, okay?"
Hope placed his hand on top of the woman's head and threaded his fingers into her pink hair. "Am I doing too much?"
Light shook her head. "It's just, not too long ago I was alone in this place. Now, I have a soon-to-be husband standing in my kitchen wearing an apron while he makes me breakfast. So… just give me a little bit to take this in. Sorry if I am troubling you, Hope."
Hope looked down at her, the top of her head visible to him. Without forethought, Hope's vision adjusted, the top of the woman's head blurred as his eyes followed her bare legs and what appeared to be the careful caress of her plain panties against her buttocks. The woman's embrace, her arms raised above her waist to hold into him, had raised the hem of her t-shirt making whatever was below visible. Hope's throat bobbed up and down as he forced himself to swallow in a desperate effort to contain himself.
"Take your time," Hope replied as his arm wrapped around her shoulders, his fingertips gently stroking the surface of her upper arm, "As long as you're okay with scrambled eggs. They've been on the stove a bit longer than you usually like."
Light's hands migrated towards his chest, her fingers gently penetrating the space between his t-shirt and the fabric of the apron. "I think I love seeing you in an apron..." Lightning's words carried some truth to them, but perhaps not all of the truth. The woman cursed herself under her breath for what came next: thoughts of the young man on hands and knees looking down at her, her own body on the floor beneath his as she looked up to him with only his apron to separate the two...
Hope chuckled in contentment. "I can wear an apron whenever you like. It doesn't take much to make you happy, does it?"
Light pulled her head back to look into his eyes, their faces mere inches from each other. "You're a couple inches taller than me now," Light whispered, "It's perfect for this."
Hope's voice softened as well to match the volume of hers. "Perfect for what?"
"Last night, didn't you say I could do this all I wanted this morning?" Light practically whimpered.
Hope closed his eyes, his mind attempting to replay some of the events of the night before in an effort to discover the nature of his own forgotten words. Much as his Soldier had done only minutes ago, Hope recalled the events of their first night together with deliberation. First, after she invited him into her room, now 'their' room (and 'their' bed), they changed clothes together. The beginnings of a smile drifted into the corners of his lips as he remembered the sensation of his fingers against her abdomen. Hope's mind continued to sift through the cacophony of memories that followed: kisses on the forehead, gentle embraces, and holding hands as they fell asleep to name a few. Although there was a definite sense of fondness as his mind approached these memories, Hope couldn't help but feel like something very, very important he was missing.
Lightning's lips trembled ever-so-slightly as she repressed her urge to practically beg the man. "Pl- please… Hope."
Her words gave him newfound motivation to further investigate the events of last night. Memories began flooding the forefront of his consciousness until he stumbled upon something… important.
Oh… THAT, Hope thought to himself as he recalled the intimate moments he shared with her in the wee hours of the morning. He wasn't unaccustomed to watching Light suffer from broken sleep, but never had he ever provided that… solution for her. Hope recalled the heat from her breath against his neck, the rise in temperature of her skin against his as he embraced her that night, the rhythmic shuffling back-and-forth of the mattress beneath them as Light's… solution progressively developed until finally he felt the woman's body become rigid, her breath held within her lungs until she became so weak in his arms that he guided her body back to its resting place on her side of the bed. Hope swallowed the lump in his throat once more before offering a response.
"Ahhh… um… That's fine b-by me if you want to do it now," Hope replied as his hands drifted to the woman's waist, "We can go back to the bed, but let me turn off the stove first and then we can-"
Hope's stammering was halted by the first of its kind, a sensation he would inevitably treasure for the rest of his existence. Its softness, the gentle hint of moisture, the surprising degree of sensitivity that this part of his body possessed, the subtle warmth that permeated down his back and into his legs, the juxtaposed sense of briefness combined with the slowing of time, it was all so new… so overwhelming.
Light continued to stand on her tiptoes despite the fatigue in her feet, practically thrusting her face upwards as her lips pressed into his own. The woman soldiered through the cramping in the arches of her feet as Hope's hands grasped her waist more fervently with each passing second and pulled her body close, her nethers separated from Hope's beloved apron by the minimal fabric of her minimalist undergarment. Refusing to release herself from him, Light's breath began circulating from her nostrils. Hope reflexively followed suit, the mixture of air from their breath gentle tossing the locks of the woman's hair away from her face and over the sides of her cheeks. Light's right hand began moving, slowly, towards the young man's waist and even beyond it before her palm settled upon the fabric overlying his left buttock. Even in a moment predominated by what was supposed to be passion of the romantic sense, the former goddess and savior was only human after all with human needs and human desires.
Finally succumbing to the pain in her feet and the fatigue in her chest, Lightning gently pulled away from him, their lips slowly separating until the change in pressure between them culminated into a soft, bilabial 'click'. Hope kept his woman close, his hands still pulling her waist towards him as Lightning's left hand clutched at the fabric of his apron. Hope allowed his head to fall forward, his forehead resting against hers as the couple's eyes closed.
"Oh… that's what you meant…" Hope finally replied, his voice struggling to carry even a mere whisper as his thoughts consumed him. A proper kiss… How the fuck could I forget that…?
Light slowly opened her eyes, her hands and fingers beginning to awaken as she sensed the position of her right palm. Light gingerly pulled her hand away from the young man.
"I'm sorry," She began, "I did more than just kiss. I should have asked you if-"
Hope, again, pulled her back into his embrace before allowing his left hand to trace the length of her slender right arm. His fingers wrapped themselves around her wrist as he guided her hand back to its former position against his left buttock.
"You're allowed to touch my butt if you want," Hope replied as he did his best to suppress the combination of a sheepish smirk and the escape of a *pfft* from his lips.
Lightning's eyes met his, conveying an unspoken request of Are you sure?.
"Do you want to do it again?" Hope offered, "A 'proper kiss' that is."
"Only one more time?" Light forced from vocal cords as the fingers of her right hand slowly sunk into the mound of fabric and soft tissue within their reach, her lips mere fractions of a millimeter away from his.
Hope's hand reached behind him before turning the stove-stop switch to the off position followed by a mechanical 'click'.
"Don't worry about that," He whispered in reply, "We have plenty more eggs, and water can always boil a second time."
Hope and Lightning sat shoulder to shoulder across from Mr. and Mrs. Estheim. Noon had come far too soon for the new couple, but despite the exhilaration of their morning, Hope and Lightning were far from unfaithful to their obligations. They had made plans to visit his parents the previous day, and such plans were a needed priority.
Bartholomew sat shoulder to shoulder with his wife Nora across from their son and his best friend. Lightning's presence in their home was far from a new occurrence. Hope's father was grateful that his son was able to reunite with his closest companion in the New World, and he and his wife welcomed her whenever she visited. Lightning's presence always made Hope smile more, laugh more, even cry more. When Lightning was absorbed in her work or his son was absorbed in his studies, Bartholomew and his wife casually observed and discussed the changes in their son's emotional expression and variability: more constricted when he was away from her and more expansive the more often he had the opportunity to see her.
In the past year or so, Nora and Bartholomew began to notice a similar presentation in Lightning. The Soldier was never one to be readily expressive in any setting. When they had first met the pink-haired woman in the New World, emotional lability would be the best oppositional descriptor to anyone trying to understand the woman's immediate mannerisms. But, by Etro, maybe… just maybe, they could see Miss Farron smile fondly once or twice during her most recent visits these past several months. Lightning's visits gradually developed into longer and longer episodes. Recently, it was not uncommon for Lightning to visit resulting in Hope and the Soldier spending so much time talking together into the late hours of the night that Lightning would sleep on their couch before returning home the next morning.
Hope littered his parent's waking moments with stories of 'Lightning-this-and-Lightning-that' during their first few years reunited. At first, they thought Hope's embellishment in his descriptions of his friend were the mere passings of young infatuation. As time progressed, they learned that their relationship was one of trial and tribulation, of a millenium of separation and struggle followed by the efforts of one Savior and her most trusted compatriate. Inferences of infatuation turned into an assessment of that of true friendship and love. Yet, today, something was very different about the pair. Bartholomew knew it and so did Nora, but were the two willing to share what that difference was?
*AHEM* Bartholomew cleared his throat as he placed his folded hands on the dining table. "Hope, your mother and I are happy to see you, to see both of you."
His father's offering of welcome stirred the young pair to reciprocate. Hope was the first to do so. "Thanks, dad. I am glad you guys were home today and willing to do this with us."
The young man's mother was equally as stirred to engage. "This is your home too, Hope. You are always welcome to see us whenever you like. That goes for you too, Miss Lightning. We always enjoy your company, and we truly appreciate everything you have done for our son," Nora replied as she redirected her focus to both her son and his accompanying guest, "But, I feel like today's visit is different from your previous visits somehow. Is there… something you feel like you need to share with us? It is unlike either of you to formally schedule a time to speak to your father and I."
Lightning straightened herself in her seat, her reflexive, military engrained urge to mind her posture now kicking in. "Mr. and Mrs. Estheim, I would like to begin by thanking you for allowing me in your home today. I also want to thank you for your hospitality to myself over the past few years. I apologize for visiting unannounced as I have before."
Nora reached over the table, her fingers caressing the knuckles of Lightning's clenched hand. "Lightning, please, you are always welcome here. I know we have said this before, but you are part of this family and we are always happy to see you come by. But… well…"
Hope's brow furled as his eyes tracked his mother's visage. "But what, mom? Is something wrong?"
Bartholomew cleared his throat again before taking Nora's free hand in his own. "We know, Hope, about the two of you. It's not that we want to get in the way for the sake of being in the way, we just… wish we found out sooner and maybe we could have had a say in it."
Lightning and Hope looked at each other inquisitively. They searched each other's expressions and once simultaneously realizing that neither of them understood was what being said by the young man's parents, they then looked back at the concerned pair.
"I am afraid we do not understand," Lightning stated promptly, "Could you elaborate, please?"
Nora and Bartholomew cast each other anxious glances before squirming in their chairs.
"We know you two are... dating, or something of that fashion. We know it started very recently, and we know that the two of you are honest and good people, so we didn't worry that you two would do anything you weren't supposed to. Er… at least that is what we hoped…"
"Mom! Please! Don't say such embarrassing stuff!" Hope nearly exclaimed, his hands furiously wrestling against each other under the table.
Lightning placed her hand on her younger counterpart's shoulder and paused to let the reserved message of her touch resonate in the young man. Once this brief moment had passed, Lightning stood from her seat.
Hope's parents stared up at the Soldier, her pulled-back shoulders and tucked-in elbows in stark contrast to the usual posture observed by those not familiar with the inner cultures of military drill. Hope followed in his parents, his eyes now tracing the outline of Lightning's silhouette against the light emanating from the dining room chandelier.
The three still seated continued to stare at the woman, the anticipation growing as they waited for some kind of response.
"Mr. and Mrs. Estheim… I- I- I um…" Light stuttered in-between choppy breaths, "I want to be clear about… about this. Hope and I, we- we were only friends before yesterday. We never did anything that could have been… well… interpreted as indecent before he moved away from his childhood home. I promise… Dating included."
The older pair simultaneously released their held breaths before looking at each other, then back at the rigid woman.
"So you two… weren't dating? You just spent time together to… I guess just spend time together?" Bartholomew's words were poorly chosen despite what he felt was careful deliberation.
Lightning nodded forcefully, the range of motion elicited from neck just as rigid and dyskinesic as her posture would have suggested. "Yes, sir. That is correct."
Nora smiled before taking her husband's hand in her own. "We are actually very relieved to hear that."
"My intentions have always been to support Hope as a friend," Light replied, "And I would never attempt to do anything of that sort, especially if it endangered your trust in either of us."
Barthlomew and Nora exchanged glances again, this time for much longer than they had before. Both of them knew that the purpose of the younger pair's presence in their home today was a far cry from simply re-establishing trust. Nor had they ever seen Lightning appear so… anxious, in her own unique way. Nora was especially skeptical of the conversation's definitive closure as suggested by the meaning of Lightning's words.
Bartholomew was the first to offer a response. "Um… Nora and I… we appreciate that. But, well… it feels like there is something you're still not telling us."
Lightning took a deep breath before exhaling forcefully. "Mr. and Mrs. Estheim… if I may…"
"Please," Nora replied.
Lightning took in another very deep breath. "Your son and I," Lightning began, "We uh- um… we came to a… realization yesterday. We filled out a marriage license application, and on Monday we are going to go to the clerk's office to be solemnized and get our marriage license. Also… also..."
Their jaws practically dragging against the surface of the table with their eyes as wide as Grand Pulse, the dumbfounded parents stared at their soon-to-be daughter-in-law with disbelief as vast the ocean.
Lightning clenched her fists and closed her eyes, gathering herself one final time before sharply bending at the waist, her head pointed towards the wall in front of her with her back as straight as a board. She desperately hoped this bow, this gesture of respect, conveyed not only its traditional connotation but also that of her most sincerest of apologies.
"I also masturbated while thinking about him! Then, this morning, I touched your son's butt when we had our first kiss! I am very sorry your son is going to marry a woman like me! Please know, I love him, and I hope one day you may be willing to overlook my shortcomings as his wife."
*BANG!*
Bartholomew, Nora, and Lightning snapped their heads towards the direction of the noise. At Hope's corner of the table, they could see a young man lying on the ground in an agonal-like posture with a tipped-over chair next to his body.
Nora was the first to rush to his side. "Hope! Sweetie, are you okay?!"
Hope tried to brush away his mother's fussy attentiveness with his hand as he clutched at his side, his eyes turned away from her in an attempt to hide the embarassing, bright red expression on his face. "It's fine... I just fell."
Lightning was quick to follow suit. "Are you hurt anywhere?" The Soldier asked as she assessed one of the boy's arms having been pinned underneath his body, "Let me see your arm."
Nora brushed her fingers through Hope's bangs to expose his eyes before letting her palm rest against his cheek. "Are you feeling ill, honey? What happened?"
"I just… I don't know. I just lost my head for a second." Hope's transient loss of self and resultant imbalance was no doubt due Lightning's rather… unorthodox confession. "Light, stop it. I'm fine," Hope continued as he withdrew his arm from Lightning's grasp. While his attention was directed towards his mother, Lightning had taken it upon herself to roll up Hope's sleeve to look and feel along his arm for any injury.
Lightning pulled his arm back towards herself in defiance, her concern for his well being greatly outweighing any embarrassment either of them may experience. "Stop pulling away, Hope. We need to make sure you are okay."
"Do as Lightning says, young man," Nora added before standing and making her way towards the kitchen.
"I'm not a kid, mom. You guys don't need to fuss over me like this," Hope complained as he pulled his legs underneath his body and clambered onto his feet.
Nora returned to the pair's side with an ice-pack in one hand and a small bottle of paracetamol in another. "Do you need some of these?" Nora asked as she gently shook the container before handing Lightning the ice-pack.
"No, I'm fine. Seriously," Hope replied as he waved away his mother and withdrew his arm from Lightning once again as the Soldier attempted to apply the ice-pack to his elbow, "You guys are being way too much right now."
Bartholomew approached the two women and put his hand on Lightning's shoulder. "Miss Farron, my wife can take over for you. Would you be willing to come to my study? There is something I would like to discuss with you."
Lightning paused before handing Nora the ice-pack. Nodding slowly, Lightning followed the father to a room adjacent to their current position and closed the door behind them.
Oh shit... Light thought to herself, I really fucked this up...