Author's Note: I honestly, sincerely apologize for not updating in ages. Schoolwork started being really brutal, but that's not really an excuse. I'll do a double update now! I likely won't be able to write for a while because I'll be traveling, but I'll try to post again when I'm back. For the time being, I hope you enjoy my stories, and reviews are welcome!

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy and its characters are property of Square Enix, not me.


Chapter 3: Mornings

Cloud

Mornings with Zack drove me crazy.

He didn't need an alarm clock - he just woke up. And he always woke me up in the process. I'd hear him yawn, hear the rustle of the sheets and the squeak of the mattress. Most of the time I just groaned and went back to sleep. But sometimes I couldn't help it. I watched him. I'd open one eye just a crack and wrap my arms around my pillow, keeping most of my face hidden in it so he wouldn't notice. And then I quietly watched him do the most boring things that didn't seem boring at all to me.

The cramped bedroom is always dark in the early morning, with the blinds closed over the only little window, but I could still make him out. He sat on the edge of the bed for a minute and stretched his arms. I couldn't help but smile into the pillow when I saw his hair; it always looked even spikier than usual when he woke up. I guess mine looked the same. He stood up for a few squats and a few more stretches. The gray light escaping between the blinds fell across him in thin lines, over his bright blue-green eyes, his bare chest. And I got that tightening feeling in my stomach again. But I kept watching him. Once I started, I couldn't stop.

He stepped over to the window and opened the blinds, flooding the room in soft morning light. He braced his arms on the windowsill and just looked out for a moment with a calm smile on his face. It almost hurt to look at him. At those familiar eyes, at his easy smile and his messy hair and the shape of his shoulders and the athletic build of his body and why was I clenching my pillow so hard? I loosened my grip, carefully, slowly. Silently let out a shaky exhale. What was wrong with me? I forced myself to close my eyes and I just kept thinking Damn it, Cloud, if you don't stop watching him you're gonna start thinking about him in that way again.

I heard the shuffle of his feet on the carpet, heard him pick up a shirt next to my bed. I reopened my eye a little. He was right there, close enough to touch. He slipped the plain gray shirt over his head. Such a simple movement. Just raising his arms over his head and pulling the shirt on and the quiet sound of cotton against skin, all in a couple seconds. And for some reason I stopped breathing, felt my heartbeat accelerate as his body stretched out in a way that would've given inspiration to a master sculptor.

Then he apparently remembered hygiene, because he left the room and disappeared into the bathroom. Probably to use my toothbrush. I waited a moment for the sink water to start running, then pushed myself up and sat on the edge of my bed, took a deep breath, raked my fingers through my hair, tilted my head back to stare at the ceiling. And I just kept asking myself What the hell is happening to you? Do you know how complicated and inconvenient this is?

But I couldn't help it. I couldn't help that my stupid stomach tightened into a knot when I so much as thought about him. I couldn't help that sometimes he made my heart pound like it could crack a rib, sent my blood racing faster than when I was on the battlefield. I couldn't help the way I thought about him when the morning light fell on his skin or when he leaned on the windowsill. What I thought about during those two seconds of him pulling a shirt on.

Mornings with Zack just drove me crazy.