"Come on…gimme something here," Cloud thought to himself as he scoured the underbrush around him for a sign of his target. He'd been hunting for days; taking every moment he could to venture out in search of that which had thus far eluded him; occasionally even stealing away in the dead of night when the others were asleep.

He wasn't cut out for this; he'd admitted as much to Aerith on the very first day they'd spent together, though, at the time, it had been more of an offhand dismissal than an actual statement of studied fact. These days, however, Cloud had begun to lament how right he'd been – he just didn't have the eye for it after all, it seemed.

But still, he refused to give up; refused to stop searching until he had found what he was looking for – a flower. They hadn't seen a single one since leaving Midgar; neither the barren desert nor the dense forests seemed to want to taint their imposing landscapes with such frivolous, unnecessary details.

He could tell Aerith had been missing them – not a day went by that he didn't notice her absently fiddling with her hands as if she felt that something should be there. To her, flowers had been one reassuring constant in a life filled with turmoil and upheaval; watched and hunted and pulled from one place to another; one cage to another. They were more than just plants – that much was clear from the way she had cared for them; spoke to them; loved them. They were her friends, and at times they had been the only friends she'd known.

Even Cloud found it difficult to recall a memory of their time together in which they'd been absent – him crashing through the roof of her church; their private conversations in her garden; the painting she'd drawn on the wall in her childhood captivity. They were always there; flowers were as much a part of her in his mind as in her own, and the idea that a piece of her was now missing hurt more than Cloud had thought possible.

So, he'd decided that he'd just have to go and get it back, in whatever small way he could.

Cloud sighed and shook his head; focusing once more on the undergrowth around him. It was getting late– he'd snuck off while the group was busy setting up a camp for the night, and he hoped to be back before they realized he was gone. His eyes were strained from ducking in and out of shadows; honing in on the terrain so closely that everything had become a green blur. How Aerith was even able to tell one plant from another was beyond Cloud's ability to comprehend.

But that was what made her special – he didn't understand her, but he was drawn to her all the same. She was a beacon of warmth and light in a world that had too often shown its ugly side; a bright, beautiful spark in a sea of darkness. Every passing second he spent with her was another reminder of how glad he was that he'd met her, and how empty his world would be if he hadn't. She had wormed her way into his very being, and despite what had been said between them, he no longer had a say in how deeply he'd grown to care for her. So here he was – playing florist for her.

Suddenly, something caught his eye. At the base of a nearby tree sat a tiny speck of white, like a single snowflake that had been stubbornly clinging on as spring bore down on it. Cloud raced over to get a closer look; though his knowledge only carried him far enough to confirm that this was, in fact, a flower. Maybe he could ask Aerith when he….

"Ahem."

Cloud froze. He had just barely had time to pluck the tiny bloom and stand up before an all-too-familiar voice rang out behind him.

"So, this is where you've been sneaking off to is it? Don't think I haven't noticed, mister." There it was again – the incessant teasing which never failed to throw him off balance. He turned to face her, hiding the flower guiltily behind his back.

"Uhh…" His voice trailed off. Seeing her standing before him; an expression of playful amusement on her face; his heart began to pound and his stomach turned inside-out.

"You know," she continued; hands folded innocently behind her back, "if you're tired of being my bodyguard you can just say so." Cloud's heart melted at the feigned hurt in her voice, and he began to stammer out a response.

"No, I just..." But his mind had gone completely blank. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to have been the hero; striding back to the lady with a flower in his hand after a mighty and dangerous quest. But this was Aerith – always unpredictable; always two steps ahead of him; playful and silly yet wise beyond her years. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

He loved her. That's what it all meant – the butterflies in his stomach when he looked at her; the ache in his chest when she smiled at him; the overwhelming fear and pain at the thought of losing her. She had become the one thing that gave his life true, lasting meaning.

But those were words that he was simply not ready to say, so instead, he pulled the flower out from behind his back. "I just wanted to…give you this." He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly; unable to make eye contact with her.

The moment she saw it, her eyes grew wide with surprise, and she began to giggle; putting her hand to her mouth to try to stifle the sound. "Well Cloud, I gotta say this isn't what I expected."

Cloud's cheeks blazed with heat, and he began to panic that he had done something wrong; silently berating himself for being so stupid and childish, as if one tiny flower could solve all her problems. "I-if you don't like it it's ok, I know it's not very-"

But she had already crossed the space between them and thrown her arms around his neck, still laughing as she did so. Something inside him roared and blazed into life at the feeling of her embracing him; some combination of pride and relief and affection, most of which he had no idea how to process. So, he simply hugged her back; taking care to keep the flower safe as he wrapped his arms around her; her closeness flowing through him and filling him with a warm, fluttering sensation. If he could spend forever in her arms, he would die a happy man.

She pulled away far too soon for Cloud's liking and beamed up at him. "Oh Cloud, I love it." She stretched up and planted a kiss on his cheek, leaving a burning brand where her lips had met his skin. "I didn't know you could be so sweet."

Cloud shook his head and gave a small smirk. "Well I guess you're rubbing off on me."

"You're welcome," she gave a wink which made his heart skip a beat…or seven. "Mind doing the honours then?"

Cloud gulped. He had absolutely no idea what she was referring to, and his mind began to careen off the rails of rational, linear thought as it desperately scrambled for answers. She clearly noticed his struggle, and giggled once more, before taking the flower from his frozen hands and daintily tucking it behind her ear.

Cloud simply stared – until this very moment, he hadn't thought it possible for her to become any more beautiful than she already was and being proven wrong did nothing to calm his racing heart. He was becoming painfully aware of how close together they still were; her hands still resting on his shoulders; their eyes locked together. Something sparked within him.

Without thinking; without understanding how it happened, Cloud closed the distance between them and pressed his mouth clumsily into hers in a moment of confused longing. She let out a small squeak of surprise at the contact, and he snapped back to reality as the shame of what he'd just done came crashing down on him. He quickly pulled back and looked away; afraid of the anger that was undoubtedly on full display in her expression.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done-" But before he could finish, Aerith took his face in her hands; forcing him to look at her. There was a strange, mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Let's try that again, shall we?" And before he could say a word, she had brought their lips back together. Cloud's eyes fluttered closed, and he melted into the contact; the gentle pressure of her mouth, so delicate and soft yet firm and assertive.

But once again, the moment was cut short as she pulled away and gazed up at him; an expression of warmth and affection on her face. "Now, that was better, dontcha think?"

Cloud just nodded sheepishly and gave a lopsided grin. "I've…never done that before." It must have been painfully obvious how inexperienced he was, and he felt his cheeks grow red again.

"Well, as they say – practice makes perfect." she cupped his cheek with her hand, eyes still full of mischief, as well as something else that sent a shiver up Cloud's spine. "Now kiss me, Cloud Strife."

Those words sent a rush of heat through his body, and all reservations abandoned him as he leaned back in to recapture her mouth with his own. He kissed her firmly; with more urgency, and she hummed approvingly as he tilted his head to deepen the contact. Her lips parted and she let out a small sigh; encouraging him and asking for more, so he tentatively opened his mouth; a little unsure of what exactly to do. She didn't seem to mind though and smiled into his lips; her hand finding the back of his head to pull him closer. So began a slow, languid dance as they attuned to the rhythm of one another's movements; hungrily seeking each other's lips; exploring and memorizing every contour, then pulling back slightly to find a new angle before diving in again. A small moan escaped him when she bit down gently on his lower lip; demanding further access to his mouth, and lightly flicking her tongue against his. Cloud lost himself in the feeling – the warmth; the softness; the desire with which she devoured him.

He hissed slightly when her hands tangled in his hair and pulled; demanding still more contact; more friction; more heat. Soon enough, she had pushed him back into the tree; leaning into him so their bodies were flush against one another; hands roaming his arms and shoulders and chest; leaving trails of fire on his skin. She was everything; his world was held in her embrace – in the feeling of her skin and her mouth and the smell of flowers. Her lips began to roam, and he gasped as they found his neck; tracing a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses down to his collar bone, then back up to nibble at his ear. She wanted all of him; every inch she could get, and he was more than happy to give it to her – this effervescent, intoxicating girl who had come into his life and given him a home in her.

And when their lips met again, it was a fierce, desperate meeting born of weeks of doubt and heartache. Time lost all meaning; all that mattered was her – her mouth pressed firmly against his own; the feeling of her soft skin beneath his hands; her gentle moan when he ran his tongue along her lip. He needed more; he wanted all of her, but he knew that this wasn't the time.

Gradually, their movements slowed; kisses becoming longer and more thoughtful as the high abated and the buzzing faded from their minds. When at last they broke apart, Aerith looked up at him; her lips swollen and red; her cheeks flushed; her eyes heavy and lidded.

"I think it's safe to say that was a productive lesson," she said, a little breathlessly. Her voice was just a touch deeper and more hoarse than usual, but there was no mistaking the ever-present teasing lilt.

"Well, I had a good teacher." He smiled down at her and kissed her again; soft and sweet and gentle.

He loved her. That's what it all meant, and though he still couldn't bring himself to say it, he knew now that one day he would.

Until then, he'd just have to keep playing florist for her.

So yeah that started as a cute drabble idea then quickly evolved into them just making out because I can't help myself.