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There’s a breeze in the air around the Lifespring, one that lifts the hair from Cloud’s sweaty forehead and grants the briefest of reprieves from the relentless sun that beats outside the alcove, heavy as a paperweight, over his shoulders. He breathes in the clean, cool air that surrounds the crystal. Beside him, Aerith holds her hands together up at her chest and whispers something.
“What’s that?” he asks her.
She responds without looking up at him, her head down, her hair around her face acting as a dividing curtain, hiding her from view. “Just a prayer.”
He hooks Chadley’s device back onto his belt. The sound of it clicking against his belt buckle seems louder than it should. The little alcove they find themselves in is shielded from the sun and the dust of the Corel desert. The rock walls that surround them also envelope them in a cool cocoon. Cloud takes a deep breath of air as fresh as it gets in this sandblasted region.
“Who are you praying to?” he says.
She places her hands back down at her sides and straightens up. When she looks directly at him like this, he usually finds it hard to look back for too long. But in the shade, with the cool and fresh air cleansed by the Lifespring flowing around them, the grass and flowers sprouting underfoot despite the harsh desert just outside, he finds he can look steadily at her face. Her eyes reflect the streams of glittering mako that emanate from the crystal. The breeze pushes her hair over her shoulder and onto her chest. He wants to touch her so desperately that he does end up looking away, back to the crystal, with a frown.
“To the planet, I guess,” she says. “This is a beautiful little spot. I was just saying thanks for leading us here. It reminds me of our spot.”
Our spot. As though reaching through time, he places his hand over his chest to the place where he wore her yellow flower briefly. Her eyes follow his movement, then flicker back up to his face.
“All done in there?” Barret’s voice calls from outside the alcove, a sharp sound that jerks them both from their reverie.
Cloud clears his throat. “Yeah. All done.”
He turns to leave, but Aerith takes his hand suddenly. Even through his glove, he can feel the warmth of her skin. A wave of goosebumps passes over him, visible on his bare arms. If she notices, she doesn’t say anything.
“I was just thinking of home.” She holds his hand in such a loose grip that if he moves just a hair, her hand would fall back to her side. He doesn’t dare breathe. “My flowers. When I showed them to you that day, I didn’t realize I’d never see them again. Whenever we find a Lifespring, I see them. Over and over.”
A hush silence falls between them. She’s waiting for him to say something, and as usual, all he can do is look at her and lose his train of thought.
“Do you think about home a lot?” he asks.
Her fingers twitch over his. “Sometimes. And I think about other last times. The last time I saw my mom. The last time I saw my flowers. The last time I’ll see you.”
His breath catches. “Please don’t say that,” he says, and he can hear the pleading note in his own voice, how weak he sounds, how small.
Her thumb brushes over the backs of his knuckles almost absently. “I just don’t want to miss out on a last time. With you. I can’t be sure what the future holds. Do you understand?”
“Hey!” Barret’s voice breaks their concentration. Cloud jumps, and Aerith’s hand drops from his.
“Alright,” he calls back, frustrated. He glances at Aerith and rubs the back of his neck with the hand she was just holding, trying to act casual, trying to hide the fact that his hand is shaking just a little bit.
“Let’s go,” she says. She looks down at the flowers, the greenery at her feet.
A sudden panic seizes him, catching in his chest, as though he’s swallowed something heavy. “Let me bring you back here tonight,” he says quickly. “After we break for camp.”
Her eyes seem to brighten at this. His chest feels full at the sight of it.
“Okay,” she says, nodding. “Let’s come back.”
.
He waits until the others have fallen asleep or settled into their sleeping rolls around their campfire before he approaches her. There’s a full moon overhead, casting bright white light down over the desert, throwing the boulders and rocky hills into sharp relief. Her face is too bright when he looks at her. He addresses her shoulder when he whispers, “Ready?”
She follows him back to the alcove, under the rocky outcropping, tucked within the foot of a hill so big it could be a mountain. The Lifespring seems to glow with its own light in here, away from the moon and its pale beam outside, green and glittering. Her eyes look the exact shade of mako as she kneels on the grass.
She pats the patch of grass beside her. He kneels too, feeling the soft dirt under his knees, a relief from the hard rock they’ve been walking over all day. For a moment, there is silence except for the steady sound of their breathing. She brings her hands up to her chest, clasping them together there.
Tonight, he follows suit, placing his hands one over the other on his chest. Shimmering flickers of mako dance around them. The air is cool and fresh. Her body is so close beside him. Something is bubbling up in his chest, right behind where he’s holding his hands.
“What are you praying for?” she asks.
He keeps his eyes on the crystal, its sharp and jagged edges. In the silence it seems to emit some soft sound but he can’t tell exactly what it is.
“I don’t know,” he says. “What about you?”
“I prayed that you’d kiss me.”
He opens his mouth but all that comes out is a small gasp. She laughs, a tiny sound that seems to be swallowed by the Lifespring and the flowers around them.
“Isn’t this a good place for it?” she asks. Her hands comb through the grass by her knee, blades slipping between her fingers. “Actually, I take that back. The beach was a good place for it. But since we’re here, we might as well.”
“Oh,” he says, feeling the situation getting out of control. “I… I…”
“You… want to kiss me.” She tilts her head to one side, regarding him. As she moves, her hair slips over her shoulder. The sound of it moving against her body sends a shiver through him.
He nods. Words pool in his mouth like water but his careful filter holds them back, as always, like a dam. Only a trickle manages to break past, inadequate as usual, “Yeah.”
She doesn’t give him any time to overthink it. One moment, she’s kneeling on the grass, the Lifespring reflected in her eyes. And the next, she has a hand on his chest, propping her up as she leans into him. Her body is warm, he can feel it even through her clothes. He feels himself duck his head to meet her halfway, moving automatically. Her lips brush his, almost inquisitively.
Something comes over him, some instinct he’s only now aware of. His hands grip her waist, his fingers digging into her, bunching up the fabric of her dress. His lips press against hers. His mouth feels hot, his face feverish as he kisses her slowly, tasting the mako in the air around them as he breathes in. Aerith melts against him. He only holds on tighter.
He can’t make a sound. If he opens his mouth, words won’t come out. He kisses her again, earning a soft sigh from her that travels directly between his legs. He tries to stay still, hoping the black of his pants hides any evidence of how much he wants her, wants to keep touching her, wants to dig his fingers into her sides until he’s marked her with bruises as green as the Lifespring beside them.
She leans back, using her palms to prop her up against the grass. He doesn’t let go of her waist, and is pulled down slightly. She lays down the rest of the way, laying back on the flowers, the soft ground cushioning her. His hands move of their own accord, helping her slide out of her jacket and set it aside neatly. Seeing her bare shoulders, the soft curve of them, sends a shiver through him that he can’t hide.
“I haven’t, uh.” He can’t take his eyes off her shoulders, the pale skin, glowing in the dim light. “I haven’t done this before. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
She smiles at him. His stomach flips so violently that he thinks he might collapse over her. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” he says before the words are out of her mouth. “Yes, I do.”
She loops her fingers under his suspenders and pulls him down over her. “Okay. Follow my lead.”
He pushes one strap of her dress off her shoulder, pressing a kiss onto her skin. She’s cool to touch here, his own mouth seeming too hot. Eagerly, he kisses up her neck and to her cheek, trying to cool his mouth enough that when he kisses her lips, he’s not so obviously flushed.
“Is this what you prayed for?” she asks, pushing the question into his mouth, her lips moving over his.
He takes a shaky breath. “Every day,” he whispers.
Her fingers comb through his hair as they’d just combed through the grass. Her hands smell fresh and clean despite the desert they trek through, all the dust and the hot sun and the sweat. He doesn’t want to look at his own hands, hands that touch her now, hands that are unworthy.
She wraps her legs around him, pulling him closer. “Me too,” she says. “I think about you all the time, just like this. Holding me.”
He grinds up gently against her. The friction makes him gasp. He shuts his mouth immediately but her hand comes up to his face, her thumb pressing his chin down until his lips part.
“Don’t be quiet,” she says. “I want to hear you. Tell me how you feel.”
Her legs tense around his waist. He grinds up again. Another small groan escapes him. He ducks his head, his forehead against her shoulder.
“Good,” he gasps. “So good.”
Her hands are on his waist, tugging at his belt. He pulls it off with her help, hands fumbling with buckles until the weight of it is clear. She sets it down beside her jacket.
He looks down at her on the grass, her hair around her face, flowers by her head and her arms, and he realizes he has imagined this exact moment as it plays out just like this. As though he’s seen the future, or has been shoved backward in time. The sight of her on the ground seems monumental but still familiar.
“Touch me,” she tells him. Her voice is low but strong, assured. She always knows what she’s doing. He follows her lead, undoing the buttons of his pants with one hand as he lifts her dress with the other. Her legs are pale, absorbing the light from the nearby crystal, glowing with it. His fingers trail up her leg. She guides him, her hand over his, until he stops just short of the heat that emanates from between her legs, so hot that it could melt him.
He hesitates. He has no idea what he’s doing. Somehow, despite this, he knows he shouldn’t be touching her. That he isn’t the right person for this. But the way she looks at him, with an open expression, with her eyes bright and wide and accepting, wanting him, propels him forward.
“Are you sure?” he whispers, his breathing too loud to his own ears.
“I’m sure,” she whispers back, and the mako in the air seems to whisper along with her, the Lifespring just beside them singing in its ethereal way. “I want this. I want you. Touch me, Cloud.”
He tugs her soft underwear down and places it over their slowly growing pile of discarded clothing. His fingers trail back up her legs, to the delicate skin between her thighs, until he touches her, his fingers slipping easily in the warm and wet folds of her.
She whispers, “Oh,” as her back arches off the ground. She blooms like a flower, opening up to him easily. Her hands move up to her chest, held together as though in prayer. He caresses her as gently as he can, although he can feel his own urgency building, pushing him to move faster, to be more rough. He swallows it down. He wants to be—
“Good,” she sighs, rolling her hips against his hand. “You’re so good. I’ve wanted this for so long.”
Her hands reach for him, tugging his pants down, her fingers brushing against him through his underwear, and every brush sends a shiver through him until he’s almost shaking. He pulls himself out from the confines of his clothing and she guides him in, no resistance, sliding into her like he was born, molded to do just this.
He holds still, her warmth overwhelming him for a moment. His body is as tense as it is during battle, adrenaline coursing through him, flooding his brain.
“It’s like coming home,” she says, her hands in his hair.
Home. He doesn’t know what that is anymore, where that is. Inside her, he starts to believe home could be a person. Drawing his hips back, he slowly slides back into her, feeling pressure build in his chest, his lower back. She sighs again, a sound like wind, disappearing into the eager air between them. He lowers his head again, to her shoulder, and staring down at the grass makes it a little easier to rock into her, feeling her clench around him. If he looks into her eyes, it’s over.
Her hands are on him, hands that were just clasped in prayer, he can feel the vestiges of her wish to the planet on her fingers as they dig into his scalp, scratching lightly, pulling sounds out of him that he’s never heard before. His hands on either side of her prop him up, his palms digging into the soft earth, pressing down on flowers and blades of grass, defiling the planet, defiling her. He pauses, his chest heaving, suddenly overwhelmed.
“Cloud?” Her breath is hot against his ear.
“Aerith… do you… want this?” he stammers, sinking into her. The feeling comes back, that this is wrong, that he’s not the right person for this. That he won’t be good.
She kisses him, his cheeks, his forehead. “I want this. You.”
Slowly, Aerith pushes him off of her and onto his back. The straps of her dress fall down her shoulders. He can see the tops of her breasts just peeking out from the familiar pink of the dress. She straddles him, moving gently, moving surely, and he finds himself thrusting up into her despite his pounding heart, finds his hands moving up to touch her chest despite their shaking, some base instinct taking over that he didn’t even know he had.
Her knees press into the dirt around him, pressing deeper as she rocks back and forth, back and forth, crushing flowers, leaving their mark on the planet. Behind her, the crystal sings faintly, and mako touches the air with its familiar scent and taste. Her hands on his chest feel familiar too, and the look on her face, her eyes heavily lidded, her mouth slightly open, shifting against him with practiced ease, as though they’ve done this before.
Cloud lets his intuition take over and his hand moves between her legs as she grinds down on him, letting out a low moan that lets him know he’s doing the right thing. Her body moves faster against him, in and out, in and out. Stars dance in front of his eyes. He feels faint, faint and feverish, and he thrusts up into her with more urgency. His other hand touches her breast, his fingers brushing against her nipple, pulling another moan from her. He marvels in this hidden skin he touches now, a secret he’s been let in on, a new thing between them that no one else will ever be able to share.
“Yes,” she gasps, leaning forward, her hair tickling him, her breasts dragging over his shirt. “Like that. Just like that. You’re so good. You feel so good.”
Her body glides over him, her little sounds catching in his throat, soft moans he swallows as he kisses her. “More, say more,” he tells her, the words coming from somewhere deep inside him, unaware that he’s speaking until he hears himself.
“Your hands on me, touching me.” He thrusts up into her, hard, earning a gasp. “This is where you belong. I need you, I need this.”
Her words flood his brain. His hand sinks into the grass by her knee, combing through the green blades and the flower stems, feeling the energy of the planet churn and churn around them. Her body rocks against his, finding their rhythm, until she bucks against him suddenly, shuddering. The last vestiges of his carefully honed discipline leave him, and he presses his fingers into her hips, pulling her close, riding her orgasm and chasing it with his own.
He’s panting when she slips off of him and curls into his side, under his arm. In the dim glow of the Lifespring before them, her eyes look as green as his. He has always wondered what he would see in her eyes if he looked closely enough. Whether he would see himself, or some image of himself that only she can see. Whether that would bother him or not. Whether it even mattered.
He doesn't want to break their careful silence. The fragility of the moment they shared hangs over his head. He could ruin it all with the wrong word, and he always seems to say the wrong thing at the most crucial times. He waits for her to speak.
She does, eventually. “Do you regret that?” she asks, quietly.
He startles her with how quickly he shoots up, propping himself on his elbow, feeling the soft give of the earth under his skin. “No,” he says sharply. “Don’t think that. I just… haven’t done that before.”
Her eyes flash in the glittering afterglow of the mako that trails through the air. “I liked it.”
A small measure of pride swells in his chest. He lays back down on the ground beside her, putting his arm out as she readjusts against him. “Thanks.”
She’s quiet for a long time. Their breathing deepens. Outside, a breeze picks up and throws grains of sand against the bulwark of their little alcove.
“I…” he begins, then trails into silence.
She presses her lips to his shoulder. “Talk to me.”
He feels brave with her mouth on him. “I felt… like I was intruding. Or something.”
She picks her head up from the ground, her hair trailing against the crushed grass. “Because of that?” she asks, glancing at the Lifespring.
He shrugs, uncertain. She rests her head on his chest, her cheek just over his heart.
“I felt home with you,” she whispers. “When you were inside me, everything made sense. Your body on the ground, the grass, the flowers around you. It makes so much sense.”
He wraps his arm tighter around her, pulling her closer over him. “You’re right,” he tells her. Of course, she is. She always is, she always seems to know what she’s doing while he fumbles around in the dark, bumping up against the invisible barrier in his mind that keeps him incomplete. For a moment as he holds her, the spaces in his mind that have been conspicuously open all this time don’t really matter. It all seems bearable suddenly.
She nestles against his chest, her body half on him, half on the grass. Both her hands are clasped together at her chest, pressed against his body.
“Praying?” he asks.
“Maybe,” she says. “Tell me what I should pray for.”
She looks at him expectantly. Her eyes still make his heart jump when they lock on him. He feels his body stirring as he pushes her down into the grass, pinning her against the earth, hearing her breath catch as he hovers over her. He imagines himself letting gravity pull him down into her body, until they fuse together and become the same person, then sink slowly into the planet they’re trying so hard to save, safe and sound forever.
He kisses her, slowly, surely. “Guess,” he says into her mouth.