A/N: A new chapter, but from Hope's perspective this time.
By the way, I'm sorry if I made anyone hungry with the last chapter. There's no eating in this one. XD
Meeting You
Chapter Two: Distant Light
They talked for a long time over their empty plates. When the shadows grew longer, Hope and Light went out to sit on the front steps.
"Do you remember when you took me to see the fal'Cie Titan?" he asked.
"Yes, I do." She leaned her elbow on her bent knee. She looked across the green fields, her eyes focused on something further than the distant mountains. "It was on one of the first nights we were there. We got a glimpse of him when we crash landed, but never got a good look."
"Yeah. You were on watch, so you woke me up and we hid behind one of the rock formations—"
"Just you?"
"Well, I was the only one who kept asking about him."
"That's right." The corner of Light's lips curled upward. Hope watched, noticing how such a small change transformed her entire face. I think I've seen her smile more today ever have before, he thought.
He forced himself to look away. "And then when I told the others about it the next morning, Snow wanted to try and find Titan himself. Except that he stumbled across those berries—"
Lightning groaned. "Don't bring that up."
He grinned at her reaction. "It was after he ate them that Vanille pointed out how similar the leaves were to a medicinal herb back in Oerba—"
"And the idiot started having delusions." She shook her head.
Snow had delusions—and to him, Lightning was her sister. He'd followed her around all day calling her Serah, asking what he had done to piss her off. Eventually he'd gotten a little too aggressive with his 'friendly' touches, and she'd knocked him out cold.
Hope remembered wanting to cheer.
He glanced at Light. She was looking at him. "I say we never speak of it again," he said.
"Agreed."
A car drove past, the hedges swaying in its passing.
"How are they?" Hope asked.
"Serah and Snow? They're living together in a nice house on the west side. His reputation as the Patron proceeded him, and the people practically forced him to accept it."
Hope nodded. In the city, there had been people who had wanted to give him a house, too. He'd refused.
"I suppose they'll get married sometime," Light continued, leaning back on the top step. "It's all they ever wanted."
"Snow waited for Serah for centuries," he said quietly. "Of course they will."
She nodded, but Hope was surprised that Serah and Snow weren't already married. Maybe they're taking the time to get to know each other all over again, he thought. We've changed, all of us, in the time that has passed.
Light has changed. And maybe I've changed most of all.
The sun slowly sank below the horizon. Wordlessly Hope got up and retrieved his acoustic guitar. "A guitar?" Light asked, surprise clear in her voice as she twisted around to look at him. "I didn't know you could play."
"My father taught me, before I went to the university." He settled down beside her. There were lots of songs that he had written and memorized, all in memory of her. There were words to the songs but he felt shy singing them now, with her as his audience. Instead he pressed his fingers against the frets, choosing to pluck out the slow melodies using his fingers. He kept his eyes on his hands, but he could feel Lightning watching him while he played.
Eventually the fireflies sparked to life, and it became too dark to see the strings. Hope and Light watched the glowing lights in silence, the crickets singing softly in the grass.
"It's beautiful here," Light said.
"It is," Hope murmured. He didn't tell her that he thought it was more beautiful simply because she was by his side.
"You can have my room," Hope told her after they'd come inside.
She crossed her arms. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed. Just give me the couch and I'll be fine."
"I don't want you to sleep on the couch." Hope shook his head, cringing at how suggestive that sounded. He hurriedly explained, "I have a spare bedroom, but it's full of my computers and a few boxes that I haven't unpacked yet."
"All the more reason for me to sleep on the couch."
"Light—"
"Hope, I'll be fine." She put out her hand and touched his shoulder. It was only a brief touch—a graze, really—but he went utterly still.
There was a moment when Hope gazed at Lightning and she stared right back, her pale blue eyes crystal clear in the light. I could kiss her, Hope thought. He could imagine it easily: closing the distance between them in a single step and bending his head down to hers, just like he did that night in Academia, ages ago. He would tangle his hands in her soft curls and she would smell like roses, just as she always had before. I could kiss her. She wouldn't have to sleep so far away.
He remembered her suitcase and seeing her packed clothes, and knew she meant to stay.
Then Hope let out his breath. He made himself take a step back and forced a little smile. "Alright. I'll let you have the couch, then."
Lightning nodded, but she was wearing that curious, calculating look that Hope knew so well. "Thanks."
"Need me to show you where anything is?"
She shook her head. "I'm sure I can find my way around."
"Right." He bobbed his head. "Well… well, goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Sleep was evasive. Hope stared at his ceiling for a long time, running over their final conversation in his mind. I feel like I'm fourteen again, he thought, rubbing his fingers into his eyes. I can't say what I mean, and everything comes across sounding awkward.
If Light wanted to leave the next morning, he couldn't blame her.
She was sleeping downstairs, on his couch. Twenty-four hours ago, Hope hadn't imagined that she would show up that evening on his doorstep, slender and beautiful, as if she had swept in with the summer breeze. As if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to be standing there, smiling at him.
She came. She came all the way to Chateau Blanc to find him.
Part of him still couldn't believe it. He had looked for her for so long, until the city began to suffocate him. When he couldn't stand the people and the noise and all the things they demanded from him, he left. He'd asked his mother to keep an eye out for her—his mother, who had sent him a sad, understanding smile when he vowed he would never stop looking—
And Light was here.
In the Ark, he looked at her through Bhunivelze's apathetic eyes and felt nothing. But from his own memories, he remembered drowning in the desire and despair that always came from thinking of her. He remembered the years of silence and research, and the one night that finally shattered his sorrow. He knew that he loved her. But when he was a vessel, the past seemed like a dream.
Maybe it always will be, a soft, bitter part of Hope's mind whispered.
He let all of his breath out and sat up. Clearly he wasn't going to sleep much tonight. And besides, the stars were calling.
Hope pulled on a warm jacket and slipped into his shoes. He crept softly down the stairs, moving especially carefully when he traversed the living room. He shot Lightning a lingering look as he passed by; her head was peeking above the blanket, her rose-colored hair trailing over her shoulder in waves. Even in sleep she was beautiful.
Then he realized how long he had been standing there, staring at her, and shook his head. I'm not a voyeur, he told himself fiercely, resolutely turning his back on Lightning. He let himself out the front door and quietly pushed it shut behind him.
A few fireflies were lazily drifting through the cold night air but most had vanished, no doubt sleepy themselves. Hope walked to the side of the house and climbed the ladder to the roof, where he had positioned a telescope a few nights before.
Hope pulled the small sketchbook out of his pocket and pressed his fingers over the spine, smoothing out the pages. The stars were different here than they were on Cocoon or Pulse. His father had noticed his fascination and bought him a few books, but Hope wanted to learn about their movement and irregularities for himself. He uncapped his pen and tilted the telescope away from the moon—gibbous, sinking lazily into the southwest horizon—and toward a cluster of stars to the north.
He couldn't say how long he sat there perched on the angled roof, drawing a tiny quadrant of the sky, until he heard Lightning say, "you always were interested in the stars."
Hope hurriedly looked up. "Light."
She stepped off the top rung of the ladder, dressed only in a tank top and shorts. Both hugged her thin body, and in the pale moonlight Hope could see the soft curve of her breast. He made himself avert his gaze and busied himself with scooting over so she could sit next to him.
"You used to talk about the constellations when we were on Pulse," Lightning said. She wrapped her arms around her knees and looked over at him.
"My mother taught me about them," Hope said. He glanced up at the sky. "You couldn't see the stars at all in Palumpolum, but on Pulse there was no light pollution, so they looked close and bright."
"I remember."
"I couldn't see them in Academia, either. It never really bothered me then, but these…" He gestured with the end of his pen to the scattered lights across the sky. "The stars here are completely unfamiliar, and there's a part of me that… there's still a part of me that has to know more."
"So this is your new hobby, I take it?" Lightning asked, but Hope thought he could hear darker undertones beneath her words.
"No. It isn't quite a hobby." He looked away. "That part of me, it's… it's dying to know everything about them."
She didn't answer, but he could feel her looking at him.
Hope gritted his teeth, hating to admit the words aloud. "It's bordering on obsessive. And sometimes I wonder… maybe it's something left over from…"
"Bhunivelze has nothing to do with it," she said in a hard voice. Hope winced, though he knew the words weren't directed to him. "The God of Light is dead. There's no way he could still have power over you."
"I know."
"You were interested in stars before. Bhunivelze didn't give you that."
He nodded, but he wasn't convinced. It's entirely possible that some of his attitudes and personality would seep into me, he thought. For a while, I was Bhunivelze. Bhunivelze was me. How much of him is left behind, even in this new world?
"Hope," Light said.
He looked up at her, and she was staring at him, her beautiful eyes searching his face. He mustered a smile. "You're right. You always are."
She scoffed. "Don't give me that. You're the smartest one out of all of us."
"Absolutely not true."
She gave him a stern look. "Academy Director?"
"Years of schooling and science." And a hard motivation to keep pushing forward, to see her again.
"What about Academia? You built a city. And a planet."
He shook his head. "You're making me sound a hundred times better than I actually am."
The sharpness returned to Lightning's eyes, but she didn't answer. After a minute or two, she murmured, "I remember seeing the ruins, in the Wildlands. Academia."
Hope nodded. He recalled her asking about it, and recalled zooming in on his monitors to see exactly the shells of the once-towering steel structures. It was like seeing a graveyard of his aspirations. "I'm sorry," Lightning had murmured into the earpiece, and Hope had wanted to feel something for his city, wanted to feel something for the entire world that was being eaten away by darkness, despite all his efforts to stop it.
Hope cleared his throat, banishing the dark memories. "I've learned my lesson."
She arched an eyebrow at him. "Lesson?"
"No more making cities. Or planets. They'll just get destroyed." He spoke in a mock-serious tone, and Lightning rewarded him with a husky chuckle.
They sat there on the roof until Hope noticed Lightning shivering. He climbed off the roof and led her inside, silently cursing himself for not realizing sooner. "I have an extra blanket in my room," he said, taking the stairs two at a time. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even—I should have realized—"
"Don't worry. I'm not that cold."
"Still." He went into his room, Lightning following along behind. He pulled the thick blanket from under his bed and turned, only to freeze when he saw Light pick up the steel-grey collared shirt he had set aside for the next day. She tucked one arm into a sleeve and then the other, the starched cuffs reaching down to her knuckles. She glanced up at him as she began to button the shirt closed, starting from the bottom.
"Not a problem," she said.
Hope's mouth went dry. It was strange to see her there in his clothes—it dwarfed her completely, the ends of the shirt covering the bottom of her shorts—and he could almost believe that that was all she was wearing.
She was so beautiful. She was so devastatingly beautiful.
"Right," he stuttered, unable to think coherently and in full sentences while she was looking at him like that. "Alright."
She looked at him for a few seconds longer and then nodded. "I'll see you in the morning." She turned and walked away.
No, Hope thought, no no, don't leave— "Wait," he gasped.
Light paused in the doorway, looking at him over her shoulder.
"Why don't you…" This was such a bad idea and Hope knew it. But he couldn't let her walk away, not looking like that. He had watched her walk away too many times to see it happen again.
"Stay," he said.
She turned to face him.
"You'll be warmer with me—I mean, another person nearby," he said, and immediately wanted to take the words back. Why did he always have to sound so awkward?
But then Lightning smiled and he forgot his clumsy phrasing. "Okay," she said. "Since you insist. I'll stay."
