( He knows what he wants, but he's not about to guess that - especially suggest that it should be on the table for doing her favors. He would rather they both be up for that sort of thing without any obligations. )
You don't owe me anything, Aerith. I mean, you know what I mean? ...
[ It's strange, how four simple words can hold so much promise, can make her nervous in a way she hasn't felt for a very long time. The silly giddiness of the drink, inspiring talk of weddings and priests and pancakes, is still in her system, but the enormity of the words exchanged through text, between rooms, has done a lot to sober her. The bottle stays on the desk in her room, next to the draped fabric of her red jacket and the ribbon and ties that usually hold the curls and waves of brown that fall instead down her back and the sides of her face.
It's past two in the morning, and they're asleep, or they should be. Instead, Aerith is exiting her room in the inn, the door closing with a soft click behind her.
The steps between her room and his seem almost impossibly big even as she creeps across them, the wooden floors cool under her bare feet. That restlessness is there her steps, despite the easy way she flirts and teases, four simple words that make her stomach twist with as much excitement as they do nervousness. It's not like she's ever hid her attraction from him, all easy smiles and playful words from the moment they ran into each other on the street, from the moment he crashed through the roof of the church with only the flowers to break his fall. Flirting is easy, teasing is easy, and when it comes down to it giving herself over to him is easy too, only there's still that inclination to knock on a door she knows is unlocked, to show some small modicum of decorum that hasn't even been asked of her.
She doesn't, despite the temptation; her fingers curl but release a second after, finding purchase on the doorknob instead, twisting and opening, and for a moment she just stands there in the doorway, all green eyes and pink dress and loose hair and a smile that hints at the shyness. ]
( Knots tighten in his gut and his arms and legs feel heavy. He feels weighted down that he knows isn't just nerves but guilt. Or, perhaps it wasn't just guilt but insecurity? Although, insecurity laces into everything he does anyway. Cloud regrets the conversation immediately, just because it's easier to live in purgatory than to follow through with something meaningful. "Hopping off the fence" was once his ambition, but ever since he left SOLDIER, he had been content in living a dull, passive life. Of course, Tifa dragged him into AVALANCHE, and he was swept up with this war to save the planet. He thought fighting for that was substantial enough, especially when it put the focus on someone else to blame other than himself. It felt good to channel that aggression on Shinra and those who gladly wore a target on their chest.
Now he just put a target on himself, one specifically that attracted Aerith. Why? Because you want what isn't yours. An unkind voice reminds him, and Cloud responds by physically shaking his arms. As if to shed the weight of shackles from his wrists. He stands and begins to pace. He's wearing a pair of sweats and a tank top. His hair is damp from a recent shower, not as spiked up as it usually is, but thick and in some parts wrinkled. He had the towel wrapped around his head for too long, which left an impression on his blond hair. A cold draft snakes beneath his shirt and breathes up his spine. His gut rumbles with an unsettling pulse. Selfish.. He stills at the sound of his door opening, and his mind goes blank. He looks to Aerith with large eyes, and his expression gives away the thoughts of being caught doing something he shouldn't be.
He takes a breath, and it streams in with a quiver from the shake of his lips. )
Hey.
( It's too late to go back now, and he's convinced himself he needs to follow through. Despite what negative thoughts he has about his selfishness. Aerith was here, he wants her here. )
[ The look on his face takes her off-guard more than anything in the conversation that has led to this moment. He looks guilty somehow, as if there's a part of him that's already doubting the things to which they both gave word. It makes her hesitate in the doorway for just a moment, a worried look passing over her face - she wants this, but she only wants this if he wants this too - before she steps into the room, steps taking her until she's barely a foot away from him, pushing the heaviest of her concerns aside.
She knows him well enough to know that if she made the wrong guess, if he didn't want her to come over, he would've told her. For someone like Cloud, it's easier to push people away than to draw them close, she knows that. So then... perhaps it's just a matter of him needing her to be the brave one. ]
Cloud?
[ Only now, up close like this, does she realize the strange arrangement of his hair, still damp and unkempt from his treatment of it post-shower; a hint of a smile forms on her lips as her fingers come up to stroke through it, gentle against the pale blonde strands, against the skin of his scalp. ]
I can see the wheels turning in your head, you know. Gil for your thoughts?
[ The last part is said with something of a cheeky smile. He is a mercenary, after all, even if now he's a friend first - and possibly something more than that. But it's a teasing expression that softens quickly enough, a telling gentleness in her eyes as they search his for answers. ]
If you can't do this, tell me, okay? I'll go back to my room and we never have to talk about it again.
[ She knows it's not what he wants. But she has to make sure he feels safe with her, that he doesn't feel pressured... the same way he worried about her feeling like she might owe him. ]
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Yes. What is after "starters"?
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And don't you dare say money!
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A nice hot meal?
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[ She laughs. Is he serious?! ]
...Sure. A nice hot meal sounds good, Cloud~
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Remember what I said? If it's with you, anything is okay.
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( He knows what he wants, but he's not about to guess that - especially suggest that it should be on the table for doing her favors. He would rather they both be up for that sort of thing without any obligations. )
You don't owe me anything, Aerith. I mean, you know what I mean? ...
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I know that I don't owe you anything, Cloud. I know what you mean.
I'm not saying this out of a feeling of... obligation or anything, you know? I'm saying it because it's something I would want.
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I want to make you feel good.. because I want to. You'd let me?
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Not as part of any deal, but because I want to let you.
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You want to guess what I want?
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Or am I getting ahead of myself?
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It's past two in the morning, and they're asleep, or they should be. Instead, Aerith is exiting her room in the inn, the door closing with a soft click behind her.
The steps between her room and his seem almost impossibly big even as she creeps across them, the wooden floors cool under her bare feet. That restlessness is there her steps, despite the easy way she flirts and teases, four simple words that make her stomach twist with as much excitement as they do nervousness. It's not like she's ever hid her attraction from him, all easy smiles and playful words from the moment they ran into each other on the street, from the moment he crashed through the roof of the church with only the flowers to break his fall. Flirting is easy, teasing is easy, and when it comes down to it giving herself over to him is easy too, only there's still that inclination to knock on a door she knows is unlocked, to show some small modicum of decorum that hasn't even been asked of her.
She doesn't, despite the temptation; her fingers curl but release a second after, finding purchase on the doorknob instead, twisting and opening, and for a moment she just stands there in the doorway, all green eyes and pink dress and loose hair and a smile that hints at the shyness. ]
Hi.
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Now he just put a target on himself, one specifically that attracted Aerith. Why? Because you want what isn't yours. An unkind voice reminds him, and Cloud responds by physically shaking his arms. As if to shed the weight of shackles from his wrists. He stands and begins to pace. He's wearing a pair of sweats and a tank top. His hair is damp from a recent shower, not as spiked up as it usually is, but thick and in some parts wrinkled. He had the towel wrapped around his head for too long, which left an impression on his blond hair. A cold draft snakes beneath his shirt and breathes up his spine. His gut rumbles with an unsettling pulse. Selfish.. He stills at the sound of his door opening, and his mind goes blank. He looks to Aerith with large eyes, and his expression gives away the thoughts of being caught doing something he shouldn't be.
He takes a breath, and it streams in with a quiver from the shake of his lips. )
Hey.
( It's too late to go back now, and he's convinced himself he needs to follow through. Despite what negative thoughts he has about his selfishness. Aerith was here, he wants her here. )
Come in.
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She knows him well enough to know that if she made the wrong guess, if he didn't want her to come over, he would've told her. For someone like Cloud, it's easier to push people away than to draw them close, she knows that. So then... perhaps it's just a matter of him needing her to be the brave one. ]
Cloud?
[ Only now, up close like this, does she realize the strange arrangement of his hair, still damp and unkempt from his treatment of it post-shower; a hint of a smile forms on her lips as her fingers come up to stroke through it, gentle against the pale blonde strands, against the skin of his scalp. ]
I can see the wheels turning in your head, you know. Gil for your thoughts?
[ The last part is said with something of a cheeky smile. He is a mercenary, after all, even if now he's a friend first - and possibly something more than that. But it's a teasing expression that softens quickly enough, a telling gentleness in her eyes as they search his for answers. ]
If you can't do this, tell me, okay? I'll go back to my room and we never have to talk about it again.
[ She knows it's not what he wants. But she has to make sure he feels safe with her, that he doesn't feel pressured... the same way he worried about her feeling like she might owe him. ]