Final Fantasy Romance (KH-style): Aerith & Squall
 

The night was an amazing thing to Leon; he'd always been fascinated and calmed by it. Lately, though, it had begun to lose its appeal. It was a lot harder to think peacefully in the darkness, as well, due to the Heartless (that just won't seem to give up). Squall was slightly grateful for the constant occupancy of the Heartless in a way, for it was easier to let his mind stray from... certain aspects of his life.

Looking up, Leon opened his blue eyes to reveal two bright, menacing, yellow, almond-shaped pupils. Those eyes could make even the bravest man's spine crawl; they lacked any sense of emotion; even hatred. It would be impossible to match the coldness of those eyes..
With an almost uninterested sigh, the brunette stood slowly. He gripped his weapon with a strong right hand, lifting it from its stationary position. He felt there wasn't a reason to even put a few words in; the Heartless wouldn't give a shit in edgewise.

With one precise slash of his weapon, the Heartless disappeared. They never seemed to stop coming, though, and Leon was prepared. Behind him; he sensed it. He let his weapon rest on his shoulder, and he let the creature crawl menacingly toward him. Once he felt it was close enough, he maneuvered his fingers to pull the trigger.

Running a gloved hand through his decently long hair, he swung the door open to his safe haven. He spotted Aerith, who seemed to have just returned, and sighed a bit. She would, most likely, try to pull that therapist "But I care, Squall" shit on her again. He walked past her without a word, grabbed a bottle of water, and beckoned for the door once again.

((Damn, I'm freezing my ass off here and I just got home, haha...okay let's see how much I can pull off tonight.))

"You're going out again, Squall? Haven't you ever stopped to actually rest once in a while?" Aerith hated playing mother to the guy but who else would be there to take care of him? Not that he needed a babysitter -- he was damn well good enough at taking care of himself, but Aerith felt, deep down, she probably was lonely, almost as much as Squall was.

"Yuffie's gone, you know. I don't know when she'll be coming back." She doubted that the other person living in the house with her would notice either way. He rarely spoke a word to her, and she just didn't want to be talking to herself. Most people thought that was weird, but Squall had no emotions.

Almost. Aerith knew he was always out, and she couldn't really say no. She controlled him as much as she controlled the weather -- which was by no means at all. She tried to advise him to sit down and relax on numerous occasions but Squall would just turn away. 'Oh why did I ever think he'd come around to his senses?!' she thought to herself. Well, she wanted to do the impossible: Squall was always taking out his anger on the roaming Heartless, the ever-increasing number. Aerith didn't want to be useless. If she were to try and get Squall to open up a bit more she would have to be around him more, and no matter what, find SOME way to get him out of his doldrums.

'Maybe he'll never change. But what can I say?' Oh seriously, this talking to oneself has got to stop.

"Dinner's in two hours," was all she said. He would most likely slam the door in her face. Somehow, that just really hurt.

As she chopped vegetables, she looked to the closet and thought of her weapons in there that she never used. Maybe it was time for her to get out again and stop playing housewife. Not that she was married or anything.

He stopped in his tracks as Aerith had begun to speak. He knew Yuffie had gone, and he knew she wouldn't be back for a considerable amount of time. That was no reason, though, to stay at the house.
"It's Leon," he muttered; doing exactly what she had predicted he was going to do: he slammed the door in her face. Squall was in more than one way like the weather. You could predict it, and 95% of the time you'd be right.

He cracked open the bottle of water right outside of the door, as if he were contemplating on staying. Apparently deciding against it, Leon maneuvered his way across the disturbingly quiet district. He pitched his, now empty, water bottle into a garbage can; almost immediately swinging open the double doors to a less safe district. Time to get rid of those Heartless, no matter how pointless it was. What else did he have to do?

"Come get me," he said, and, almost on cue, three heartless rose from the ground in a black sludge. They were disgusting-looking creatures (despite how cute they are in the game), with beady, glowing eyes and drippy black skin. Squall--.. Leon was now used to the foul smell and appearance of the Heartless, though, and the only thing that came to mind when confronted by them was: Kill. And that he did. He did it well, honestly, and he did it with just as much emotion as the Heartless show.

After a fight with the trio of Heartless, more begun to rise from the bricked flooring. Leon seemed disinterested and, surprisingly, a bit bored. Pushing back locks of brown hair, Leon was face-to-face with a larger, never-before-seen heartless. Or else... it looked like a heartless. It resembled a dog, but... Squall backed away from the creature, thus noticing the canine head was NOT the heartless; but that a much larger creature held the large dog head as a shield. This would prove itself to get very interesting very soon.

A coy smile played upon Leon's lips; he grabbed his blade, readying a finger on the trigger.

The shield howled and barked at Squall, and the man just fed off of it. The Heartless, however, seemed to think nothing of the blade-wielding brunette. This slightly insulted Leonhart, and made his visage go from interest to anger. He let his top lip draw back in a snarl, and he took a swing at the dog-headed shield.

Quickly; immediately his blade was caught in between the canine's insanely strong jaws. Squall was caught off guard, but he didn't let that alter his abilities. He tried to tug it away, but no avail. The dog's head wasn't in the right position to be shot, so he had to take another route.

Squall ran up (yes, he literally stepped on) the Heartless' large form, kicked off of its head, and pulled the sword from the dog's mouth. The creature only staggered, though, and the canine head went insane. Its eyes lit up, and the dog opened its mouth. Fire shot from its mouth, and Squall rolled away skillfully. The Heartless were gaining power, and it was obvious.

Leon sucked in a large amount of air, letting out all he'd been holding in. He yelled as loudly as he could, pulling the trigger in the direction of the heartless while releasing a hidden weapon on the dog while it was distracted. The man poured his heart and soul out into that inhumanly loud scream; it wasn't due to strategy, nor was it done out of fear. He just had to let it out. He just needed to let go.

When Squall's insanity came to a slowing halt, and the dust, smoke, and debris cleared, the Heartless was revealed. It seemed unharmed, as well as its canine-like shield, and Squall's mood changed from emotional to pissed off. He took hold of his blade prehistorically (holding it like a club), but, as soon as he raised his arm, the creature and its beast of a shield fell and disappeared into the ground.

With a sigh, Squall let his blade plink to the right side of him. That took a lot of energy, and it wasn't even a difficult fight in the long run. He supposed it was the stress that made him tired, and he took it upon himself to leave and go back to where he and Aerith resided. He didn't plan on having a conversation with her, but he wasn't going to walk away from one like he usually did.

Dragging his weapon along, and sending sparks flying either way behind him, Leon forced himself to go home. He stood at the doorway, taking a deep breath. Aerith seemed pretty angry when he left, unlike the usual disappointed thing. He didn't want to start anything major with the woman, yet he didn't want to 'talk to her about his feelings'. Just thinking about it made him roll his ocean-blue eyes. Still yet, Leon pulled the door open.

The lights inside the room were dimmed, and there was no sign of the girl.
"Aerith?" he said semi-loudly, in order for his voice to travel around the house. With a shrug, Leon placed his gunblade at his feet while he sat, grabbing another water bottle along the way. There was absolutely nothing to do, and, upon sitting, Leon was already bored. Stretching, the man kicked his legs up, swiveled around on the couch, and sprawled out on it. His calves hung over the edge of the couch, where, proceeding a wiggle of his foot, both of his shoes fell and hit the floor.

Leon crossed his arms behind his head, enjoying the time he had alone to rest. He closed his eyes, with no intention of falling asleep.

Squall was beginning to wonder what Aerith was doing, because, frankly, she never really did anything outside of the house other than grocery shopping. He sighed a gruff sigh, sat up slowly, and looked down at his weapon. If she was outside getting herself into trouble, Squall would be pissed. He didn't want her to go out and get hurt just because she was angry with him. He didn't want someone else's pain to be his fault... again.

Leon hopped up from his seated position, grabbing hold of his gunblade quickly. He swung it upward and allowed it to rest on his broad right shoulder. With another agitated roll of his eyes, he opened the door. Closing it, he departed to go look for Aerith. Maybe she just needed some alone time, too, but she could've just stayed in the house, right?

His black boots thudded against the ground as he casually walked from district to district, occasionally asking about the brown-haired Aerith. Once he caught word of her, he ventured to the district she was supposedly in. If he didn't find her here, he decided he'd just go back home and wait for her.

"Aerith," Leon called, gripping his weapon tighter. "Aeriiith."
He scanned the premises for her bright-clad frame, but to no avail. Squall sighed, about to turn around and leave. He caught a glance, though, in his peripheral vision.. it was her outfit. He knew that coat... he knew those shorts... that skirt. It couldn't be. How...?

"Rinoa!" he lost control for a bit, spinning around to see if his vision had lied to him like it always did. But this... this was different than those other times. This one seemed real. His blue eyes were wide and hopeful, but they slowly went back to their everyday coldness. It was... Aerith? She was quite a distance from him, but he knew her hair. It was beautiful, long, and perfect, like it always was. But what in the hell was she wearing?! "Aerith...What are you...?"

He kept his eye on her, walking nearer still. Why was she dressed like Rinoa? He felt a lump in his throat and his stomach tie in knots as he scanned Aerith once more. His blue eyes seemed to dull, and he looked away; eyes lowered. Clothes shouldn't affect him like this, should they? Leon felt stupid. Rinoa was dead; there was no changing that. But why in the hell would Aerith be wearing clothes that resembled Rinoa's so, so much?

What was with the attitude? Squall's momentarily gentle eyes turned back into the cold, annoyed look that he usually gave. He looked back up at her with his jaw clenched, and he let his weapon's tip hit the ground noisily, still holding onto it. He gazed at her, but couldn't think of anything to say. He had so many questions lined up that it was making it hard for him to breathe. He was confused and beginning to think about Rinoa, which didn't help him emotionally at all.

"Excuse me for wondering where you'd gone to," he said simply, his voice sounding less hardened. On his heel he turned away, retreating from the way he had come. He picked his weapon back up, resting it on his shoulder. It was going to be even harder to deal with his situation now that Aerith was dressed like that. How could she do that and not think about Rinoa? Why was she doing it? Closing his eyes tightly to keep his emotions inside, Leon opened the doors to the safe district. She could dress however she pleased; he wasn't Squall anymore.. he was Leon.

He had to start over.

Arriving home to a passed-out Aerith on the couch, Leon silently cursed at her. Stupid girl, going out and changing her appearance, then getting drunk. Dammit, it was his liquor, too! He tried his hardest to stay calm, since there was really no reason to throw a fit, and he turned to lock the door behind him. Placing his weapon down on the counter, he gazed over at the sleeping girl.

Although she was wearing those clothes, she didn't resemble Rinoa at all. Maybe the sheer thought of his late love just brought out the image of her, or something to that effect. Leon was just as confused about his emotions and actions as Aerith was. He leaned over a bit to rest his weight against the counter, placing his face in his hands. He curled his fingers into his hair, wishing he could go back and change things. No matter how much he wanted to forget his past, he couldn't. It was just impossible. He rubbed his forehead a bit, standing upright once more.

Slowly dragging himself toward Aerith, Leon scooped her up in his arms. The girl was going to have a relentless headache in the morning, and he knew it. Why not make it at least a little easier on her? He carried her down the hallway, kicking open a door as quietly as possible, and placed her on a bed. He tilted his head at her as she stirred a bit in her slumber, and sat at the foot of the bed. It was probably his fault she drank herself into a temporary coma; he was rude and angry with her all the time. He cut his eyes at her, standing up momentarily to drag a set of sheets over her.

Deciding not to linger any longer, Squall left the room after flicking the lights out. He returned to the living room, cleaning the small mess Aerith had made in it.

Leon almost fell over himself trying to get back to the bedroom he'd just departed. Had someone left a trap for them? Literally hopping over the counter and clearing it without problem or hesitation, Leon bolted down the short hall and burst into the door. There Aerith lay, looking horrified and unbelievably pale... while in slumber.

It must have been the liquor, Leon thought, that gave her nightmares. He'd, personally, never seen her drink, so this wasn't a shock to him. Without a word, Squall let his arms slip around her thin frame. He pressed her into his body, which was large enough to shelter her and encompass her. A hug you could have called it.

"Shh," he coaxed into her unconscious form. "Aerith, wake up..."
There was nothing worse than being woken up from an almost-real dream (along with a hangover) with a loud, blood-boiling yell. Instead, stepping outside of himself for a moment, he whispered into her ear.
"Aerith..."

He let a calloused finger rest upon her lips; whoever thought Squall could be gentle? His blue eyes met her slightly turquoise ones. He trailed his thumb upward to wipe away her quickly-forming tears, but he just couldn't find words to console her. Squall was Squall; he couldn't change his slightly rough interior.

"Aerith," his voice finally broke her gasps of crying breath. "No one is going to hurt you. Not as long as I'm around."

As she clung to him, he didn't return the grasp, but he did allow it. He didn't pull away, nor did he accuse her of being a baby. For some reason, Squall didn't want to push her away. It felt... right? His eyes quickly flew open, and he pushed the thoughts from his mind silently.

He felt her body shake, and he finally wrapped his arms around her. Steadying her trembles, he began to run his fingers through her hair. It wasn't braided? Maybe this would help her; maybe she would calm down and forget about her nightmare.

He didn't object as she moved; he didn't turn as she walked around the room. He was hunched over, however, still thinking about his actions. Why did he care all of the sudden? He glanced down at the hand that had hushed her and wiped away her tears; the hand that had trailed through her hair. With a sigh, he shook his head as she spoke.

"I need to stop drinking, anyway. It's not healthy," he said, running a gloved hand through his own brown hair. "What did that guy look like, Aerith? The one that hurt you in your dream?"

Finally turning to look at her, eyes of blue trailed up her figure. Those clothes... He looked into her eyes, sighing a bit. His eyes were no longer soft and caring; they were back to that cold, determined look of his. That infamous stare shot through her gaze, but he slowly looked away.

"I need to know."

Without a word, he let his vision fall to the ground. His eyes were hidden by unruly tufts of hair, and he slowly crossed the room with his usual, long strides. Looking back at her, he nodded. He opened the door slowly, walking out of the room without any more anticipation. Shutting it behind him, he leaned against it almost immediately.

What just happened? They just had a "moment", didn't they? What was that, and why did she throw him out? He thought that's what she wanted.. to be more caring. Then, his absurd bout of caring slowly corroded into an anger of sorts. Why was he even considering caring for her? If she wanted to act like that, by all means, he would let her.

He pushed off of the door with a boot, standing completely upright on his own. Sighing to himself, Squall carried himself to the couch Aerith had passed out on just hours before, and basically fell into it. He sprawled out as much as he could on the small piece of furniture, shutting his eyes with no intention of slumber. His arms crossed over his chest, Squall imagined what life would be like if everything were back to normal.

Thus, he fell asleep, dreaming about said topic.

Grunting, Squall rolled over in his sleep. The man overshot, falling face-first into the floor. He opened one eye, sighing as he became very personal with the carpet. In the morning, Squall decided, he would vacuum. Yawning slightly, he placed his hands on either side of himself and pushed his body weight into an upright, sitting position. He was a bit on the groggy side, but he could've sworn he heard a click; it sounded like a lock latching. He wanted to move, but couldn't make himself do it. Slowly pulling himself back onto the couch, he exhaled a satisfied sigh as he laid back down on it.

Apparently he wasn't as tired as he originally thought he was, because he ended up staring at the ceiling instead of falling asleep. This agitated him, and he almost begun yelling at himself in frustration.
"Go to sleeeep," he quietly coaxed to himself.
That didn't work, nor did he expect it to. He placed a palm on his cheek, letting his hand drag downward until it met his chest. His eyes bloodshot and tired, Squall sat up, soon standing up completely.

Dragging himself through the hallway, Squall heard something rustle in Aerith's room. He stopped, tapping on her door a bit.
"You should get some rest, too," he mumbled, continuing the journey to his bedroom. Finally making it to his door, Squall opened it hurriedly, as if something inside were going to leave and never come back. Immediately his eyes locked on his large bed, and he threw himself onto it. Nuzzling his sheets, he fell asleep rather quickly.

He looked at her; she looked at him. Those eyes were her weakness; she was his. While he was mesmerized in his gaze, she began to walk to him. She grabbed his arm, dragging him onto the dance floor with more force than he'd ever experienced her use before. He stood there, frozen; his heart beating in sheer confusion. He didn't know how to dance! What did she expect?!

She took his hand, placing it upon her hip, while the other hand entwined with his. She stepped to the right; then to the left. Squall tried his best to keep up, but to no avail. He couldn't believe Rinoa had dragged him into something like this! She smiled; he blushed. As he tripped a bit while trying to concentrate on her footsteps, she smiled even wider.

She twirled away from him, pulling him to her. He stumbled, almost falling into her. At first the girl looked a bit annoyed, but he shrugged. She, then, giggled a bit at him, urging him to continue on. He shook his head, and began to trudge away. He heard her begin chasing after him, then, soon after, he felt a tug on his hand. She did a few more twirls, pressing herself against him. He finally had begun getting the hang of hit! That was when... he ran into someone. Rinoa's reassuring gaze was enough to make him continue, no matter how much of an ass he made out of himself.

Somehow, with strength unknown to him, Squall begun dancing as well as everyone around him. He followed the moves with perfection, fixating his gaze on the perfection of Rinoa's eyes. Then, all of the sudden, the lights dimmed. Rinoa stepped closer, and a few fireworks were set off overhead. The two, fingers interlocked, gazed into the night sky.

Squall, noticing Rinoa's gaze was set elsewhere, looked down at her. He questioned with his eyes. She gave him a smile, a wink, and patted his chest. She maneuvered away from him, toward a crowd of guests.

"Rinoa, where are you...?" he said aloud.