|Disclaimer: Must . . . resist . . . urge . . . to . . . kill . . . go see
the other chapters for a full disclaimer.|
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"How do you have a spare key to the apartment?"
"He said just in case. How should I know? It comes in handy, though, doesn't it? And why'd you bring pasta?"
"Hey, don't dis the pasta . . ."
Cloud was fumbling in his pocket for the emergency key he just knew he had taken before he left his own apartment, Aerith tapping her foot impatiently behind him. The hallway was small, and just the two of them with their parcels was enough to make the place look crowded. They had both agreed that it was a stroke of pure luck that they had managed to find each other, of all people, in the city, and that their closest friends (or one of them) managed to be a roommate to the other's. Fate, Aerith had decided instantly, although Cloud had snorted loudly and just said that it was coincidence. But even now the pink-clad woman was convinced that it had to be some wonderful stab of fortune that Cloud had an extra key; otherwise, they would never know what was going on. Neither Yuffie nor Squall was answering the phone, and what with the intense amount of rain currently pouring down on the city, it made them a bit uneasy. And Cloud, being the gallant hero he tried to be, had charged to his friend's rescue with the emergency key that Squall had entrusted to him.
"Víola!" Cloud said proudly, opening the door with a grand flourish. Aerith merely rolled her emerald-green eyes, stepping into the apartment and shifting her shopping bag onto her hip. However, she nearly dropped it when she saw the sight before her, and Cloud himself stumbled backwards, hanging onto the wall for support.
Yuffie was curled up on Squall's chest, sleeping soundly with her eyes closed tight. Her raven black hair was tangled and knotted, and her plaid pajama pants, which were already too big for her, had slid down her ankles and gathered in puddles over her feet. Squall himself was still fully clothed, hair pulled out of his face and into a ponytail, head leaning against the back cushions of the couch. He had one hand on top of one of Yuffie's shoulders, the other half-holding a heavy science textbook that was leaning over his hand precariously and threatening to fall onto the couch cushions.
Once the shock of seeing the two of them together - and in such a comforting position no less - had set in, Cloud and Aerith took in the rest of the apartment: the shattered tea cup and spilled green tea on the tiny, linoleum kitchen floor; Squall's bag, leaning against the closet door; Yuffie's half-open book bag that seemed on the point of overflowing. And then there was a most unsettling noise coming from what had to be the toilet, obviously having seen too much sickness that night. Aerith grimaced at the thought, and turned to Cloud, about to say something, when she noticed his white face.
"What's -" she began, but he cut her off, stuttering and stumbling over his words.
"H-he's touching someone. Touching someone, he's touching someone . . . touching a girl, Squall Leonhart has contact with a female . . ." he shuddered, continuing on in a similar fashion. Aerith clapped a hand firmly on his shoulder, taking him out of his dream-like state.
"Calm down, man. I'm sure they're both just . . . really . . . delusional," she tried, but it didn't look like it. Either Squall had gone crazy, or Yuffie had knocked him unconscious just to have a few hours alone with him. Both the first and second were highly improbable, but what other explanation could there be?
"Well, we've gotta wake them up. They're obviously mad, or at least Squall is, so we need to wake them up and get them - or him - over to the closest safe institute as possible. Okay . . . you wake them up, and I'll hold them down," the blonde said unsteadily, but cracked his knuckles all the same. Aerith stifled a laugh, but nodded.
"Yeah, I think you're right. Even though it's Saturday, they need to get up anyway. So you're backup, and I'll go in for the kill. Got it?" she said, mock-saluting him.
"Yessir!" Cloud responded, all serious. Aerith took a deep breath, flexing her fingers. Then she erected her back, walked straight over to the two, and shook Yuffie roughly by the shoulder.
It didn't take long for the scholar to wake up, blinking in confusion as she tried to get Aerith into focus. The room wanted to shift out of her view, possibly because she felt extremely disoriented: this wasn't her bed, this wasn't Aerith's couch, or even Cid's couch . . . where was she? But then she felt it - or, rather, felt him -- underneath her, still asleep and forcing her to freeze where she half sat up. If she sat up, she would wake him up, and she didn't want to do that. He was always trying to sleep late, and from what she could remember, it should be Saturday. Or maybe it was Friday . . . she shook her head. If Aerith had come all the way over here, it had to be Saturday. No classes on the weekends, that was why. A larger, bulkier figure was in the background - Cloud? What was he doing here? She rubbed her head, utterly confused.
"Man . . . I feel like a horde of water buffalo stampeded over me . . . and then dragged me out in the middle of the freeway. Migraine, migraine, migraine . . ." she muttered, rubbing her temples and trying to escape the headache that was pounding relentlessly on her brain. "Note to self: never sleep on a man's stomach; makes for a very uncomfortable pillow, especially when sick," she added, her voice hoarse. Aerith laughed quietly and offered the eighteen-year-old her watch.
"It was ten-thirty and neither of us had heard anything from either of you in a long time. We kept calling and calling, and nobody picked up," the older woman explained, and Yuffie pushed herself gently off of Squall and walked unsteadily over to the closet. Vaguely she could remember throwing the phone in there in the middle of the night, then coming back and laying herself as quietly as possible against his stomach again. It had been an unwanted assault on her ears, and she hadn't even bothered to answer.
After digging it out of one of the forgotten cardboard boxes in the pocket- sized closet, she chucked it at Aerith, unconcerned that her aim was off by about ten feet and that she hit a lamp instead of her employer. "Here," she mumbled, turning and flopping down onto the armchair and presently curling into a little ball.
Cloud had managed to awaken Squall, who looked much like a bear coming out of hibernation. He growled out a good number of rather colorful words, and then turned over on his side to escape the assault that his friend was delivering. He twisted away from him until he finally gave up, spinning on his side and shooting the blonde man glares that shot daggers.
"So," Aerith began, seating herself on the other end of the couch. Squall had dragged himself to his feet and was leaning against a wall, head in his hands and looking as if he might fall asleep where he stood. "Were either of you having . . . hallucinations . . . last night?" Aerith stammered, unsure of what to say. Surely it had been an odd sight, but it was a bit presumptuous to accuse someone of being delusional. Yuffie raised one eyebrow and Squall glared at her in between his fingers.
"No. Usually a stomach virus doesn't do that for you," he ground out hoarsely, azure eyes gleaming like blue fire. Aerith muttered something incoherent and dropped her head, clasping her hands in front of her. Cloud took up where she left off.
"T-then what happened?" he asked, worried. No, this wasn't happening . . . he was -touching- someone . . .
"Why do you care? What does it matter?" Squall shouted angrily, storming off down the hall and into his bedroom, slamming the door shut. Aerith closed her eyes until the storm passed, and then opened them to stare at Yuffie.
"So . . . what did happen?" she asked quietly. Now it was Yuffie's turn to be mad; why were they prying into their lives? As if Squall had no compassion at all, as if she had no common sense or bravery to try and tame the lion!
"What do you care? We fell asleep, that's all!" And, in a perfect mirror of her roommate, she stomped down the hall and slammed her own bedroom door.
Cloud turned to Aerith, shaking his head slowly. The one thing they had come to the conclusion of was the one thing they did not expect.
"They're not doing too well on their own . . ." Cloud began, a smirk twisting the corner of his mouth.
"So we'll have to help them along!" Aerith finished, clapping her hands happily. "This is going to be fun."
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Short, uneventful, but now Cloud and Aerith are conspiring to get Yuffie and Squall together - or at least to get them to admit their evil secret. Mwahaha! I am enjoying this -so- much.
So, well, the faster you guys review, the faster you get the next chapter. Oh I'm so evil.
Review Button: You know you want to. So stop fighting it and give into temptation! Click meeee!!!
----~----
"How do you have a spare key to the apartment?"
"He said just in case. How should I know? It comes in handy, though, doesn't it? And why'd you bring pasta?"
"Hey, don't dis the pasta . . ."
Cloud was fumbling in his pocket for the emergency key he just knew he had taken before he left his own apartment, Aerith tapping her foot impatiently behind him. The hallway was small, and just the two of them with their parcels was enough to make the place look crowded. They had both agreed that it was a stroke of pure luck that they had managed to find each other, of all people, in the city, and that their closest friends (or one of them) managed to be a roommate to the other's. Fate, Aerith had decided instantly, although Cloud had snorted loudly and just said that it was coincidence. But even now the pink-clad woman was convinced that it had to be some wonderful stab of fortune that Cloud had an extra key; otherwise, they would never know what was going on. Neither Yuffie nor Squall was answering the phone, and what with the intense amount of rain currently pouring down on the city, it made them a bit uneasy. And Cloud, being the gallant hero he tried to be, had charged to his friend's rescue with the emergency key that Squall had entrusted to him.
"Víola!" Cloud said proudly, opening the door with a grand flourish. Aerith merely rolled her emerald-green eyes, stepping into the apartment and shifting her shopping bag onto her hip. However, she nearly dropped it when she saw the sight before her, and Cloud himself stumbled backwards, hanging onto the wall for support.
Yuffie was curled up on Squall's chest, sleeping soundly with her eyes closed tight. Her raven black hair was tangled and knotted, and her plaid pajama pants, which were already too big for her, had slid down her ankles and gathered in puddles over her feet. Squall himself was still fully clothed, hair pulled out of his face and into a ponytail, head leaning against the back cushions of the couch. He had one hand on top of one of Yuffie's shoulders, the other half-holding a heavy science textbook that was leaning over his hand precariously and threatening to fall onto the couch cushions.
Once the shock of seeing the two of them together - and in such a comforting position no less - had set in, Cloud and Aerith took in the rest of the apartment: the shattered tea cup and spilled green tea on the tiny, linoleum kitchen floor; Squall's bag, leaning against the closet door; Yuffie's half-open book bag that seemed on the point of overflowing. And then there was a most unsettling noise coming from what had to be the toilet, obviously having seen too much sickness that night. Aerith grimaced at the thought, and turned to Cloud, about to say something, when she noticed his white face.
"What's -" she began, but he cut her off, stuttering and stumbling over his words.
"H-he's touching someone. Touching someone, he's touching someone . . . touching a girl, Squall Leonhart has contact with a female . . ." he shuddered, continuing on in a similar fashion. Aerith clapped a hand firmly on his shoulder, taking him out of his dream-like state.
"Calm down, man. I'm sure they're both just . . . really . . . delusional," she tried, but it didn't look like it. Either Squall had gone crazy, or Yuffie had knocked him unconscious just to have a few hours alone with him. Both the first and second were highly improbable, but what other explanation could there be?
"Well, we've gotta wake them up. They're obviously mad, or at least Squall is, so we need to wake them up and get them - or him - over to the closest safe institute as possible. Okay . . . you wake them up, and I'll hold them down," the blonde said unsteadily, but cracked his knuckles all the same. Aerith stifled a laugh, but nodded.
"Yeah, I think you're right. Even though it's Saturday, they need to get up anyway. So you're backup, and I'll go in for the kill. Got it?" she said, mock-saluting him.
"Yessir!" Cloud responded, all serious. Aerith took a deep breath, flexing her fingers. Then she erected her back, walked straight over to the two, and shook Yuffie roughly by the shoulder.
It didn't take long for the scholar to wake up, blinking in confusion as she tried to get Aerith into focus. The room wanted to shift out of her view, possibly because she felt extremely disoriented: this wasn't her bed, this wasn't Aerith's couch, or even Cid's couch . . . where was she? But then she felt it - or, rather, felt him -- underneath her, still asleep and forcing her to freeze where she half sat up. If she sat up, she would wake him up, and she didn't want to do that. He was always trying to sleep late, and from what she could remember, it should be Saturday. Or maybe it was Friday . . . she shook her head. If Aerith had come all the way over here, it had to be Saturday. No classes on the weekends, that was why. A larger, bulkier figure was in the background - Cloud? What was he doing here? She rubbed her head, utterly confused.
"Man . . . I feel like a horde of water buffalo stampeded over me . . . and then dragged me out in the middle of the freeway. Migraine, migraine, migraine . . ." she muttered, rubbing her temples and trying to escape the headache that was pounding relentlessly on her brain. "Note to self: never sleep on a man's stomach; makes for a very uncomfortable pillow, especially when sick," she added, her voice hoarse. Aerith laughed quietly and offered the eighteen-year-old her watch.
"It was ten-thirty and neither of us had heard anything from either of you in a long time. We kept calling and calling, and nobody picked up," the older woman explained, and Yuffie pushed herself gently off of Squall and walked unsteadily over to the closet. Vaguely she could remember throwing the phone in there in the middle of the night, then coming back and laying herself as quietly as possible against his stomach again. It had been an unwanted assault on her ears, and she hadn't even bothered to answer.
After digging it out of one of the forgotten cardboard boxes in the pocket- sized closet, she chucked it at Aerith, unconcerned that her aim was off by about ten feet and that she hit a lamp instead of her employer. "Here," she mumbled, turning and flopping down onto the armchair and presently curling into a little ball.
Cloud had managed to awaken Squall, who looked much like a bear coming out of hibernation. He growled out a good number of rather colorful words, and then turned over on his side to escape the assault that his friend was delivering. He twisted away from him until he finally gave up, spinning on his side and shooting the blonde man glares that shot daggers.
"So," Aerith began, seating herself on the other end of the couch. Squall had dragged himself to his feet and was leaning against a wall, head in his hands and looking as if he might fall asleep where he stood. "Were either of you having . . . hallucinations . . . last night?" Aerith stammered, unsure of what to say. Surely it had been an odd sight, but it was a bit presumptuous to accuse someone of being delusional. Yuffie raised one eyebrow and Squall glared at her in between his fingers.
"No. Usually a stomach virus doesn't do that for you," he ground out hoarsely, azure eyes gleaming like blue fire. Aerith muttered something incoherent and dropped her head, clasping her hands in front of her. Cloud took up where she left off.
"T-then what happened?" he asked, worried. No, this wasn't happening . . . he was -touching- someone . . .
"Why do you care? What does it matter?" Squall shouted angrily, storming off down the hall and into his bedroom, slamming the door shut. Aerith closed her eyes until the storm passed, and then opened them to stare at Yuffie.
"So . . . what did happen?" she asked quietly. Now it was Yuffie's turn to be mad; why were they prying into their lives? As if Squall had no compassion at all, as if she had no common sense or bravery to try and tame the lion!
"What do you care? We fell asleep, that's all!" And, in a perfect mirror of her roommate, she stomped down the hall and slammed her own bedroom door.
Cloud turned to Aerith, shaking his head slowly. The one thing they had come to the conclusion of was the one thing they did not expect.
"They're not doing too well on their own . . ." Cloud began, a smirk twisting the corner of his mouth.
"So we'll have to help them along!" Aerith finished, clapping her hands happily. "This is going to be fun."
----~----
Short, uneventful, but now Cloud and Aerith are conspiring to get Yuffie and Squall together - or at least to get them to admit their evil secret. Mwahaha! I am enjoying this -so- much.
So, well, the faster you guys review, the faster you get the next chapter. Oh I'm so evil.
Review Button: You know you want to. So stop fighting it and give into temptation! Click meeee!!!