[ Cloud's always been the one trying to keep other people secure, he thinks. That he was the one performing "bodyguard" duty. He was the shoulder someone could lean on while he dealt with the heavy lifting. But with Ayaka, the wind muted somewhat by the gazebo blocking it, leaving a gentle brush in their space, the background becoming an afterthought, he finds himself succumbing to an uncommon sensation. Contentment. Living most of his life in Midgar on edge, a light sleeper that could hear what went bump in the night and trouble imminent, and as strange as Nippon had been...
It felt like he could finally take a rest. A real one. It's for those very reasons that Cloud didn't feel the pressure nagging throughout his whole body. Maybe it's because he stopped denying it, that being this close to people...really wasn't that bad. That he didn't have to be like a cork on the bottle ready to burst.
Yeah... He could let go around Ayaka. At least, for as long as this moment would allow them. He didn't have to worry about what other people would think. Only about what he thought and felt. His head feels more clear. But that also means that he's even more sensitive to the sound of his heart beating in his chest, or the pulse he can feel through her hand as he listens to her poem. Like he wants to protect that heartbeat.
When she snuggles against his sleeve, Cloud finds himself laxing in his own seat some, slouching just enough that his head tilts...until he realizes he's nuzzled against the top of her head, and he draws away, only enough that she can look up at him and match his own gaze. Even in the teahouse...it hadn't been this close, it felt like. Any closer; any lower and he'd be brushing his forehead to hers all over again, to "Ayaka" as he pleads her not to go.
But he's not looking into the eyes of a character... The eyes of someone whose pure, light blue gaze makes him hold her a little tighter. Makes him feel weak as the soft glow of his mako-infused blues match her. ]
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It felt like he could finally take a rest. A real one. It's for those very reasons that Cloud didn't feel the pressure nagging throughout his whole body. Maybe it's because he stopped denying it, that being this close to people...really wasn't that bad. That he didn't have to be like a cork on the bottle ready to burst.
Yeah... He could let go around Ayaka. At least, for as long as this moment would allow them. He didn't have to worry about what other people would think. Only about what he thought and felt. His head feels more clear. But that also means that he's even more sensitive to the sound of his heart beating in his chest, or the pulse he can feel through her hand as he listens to her poem. Like he wants to protect that heartbeat.
When she snuggles against his sleeve, Cloud finds himself laxing in his own seat some, slouching just enough that his head tilts...until he realizes he's nuzzled against the top of her head, and he draws away, only enough that she can look up at him and match his own gaze. Even in the teahouse...it hadn't been this close, it felt like. Any closer; any lower and he'd be brushing his forehead to hers all over again, to "Ayaka" as he pleads her not to go.
But he's not looking into the eyes of a character... The eyes of someone whose pure, light blue gaze makes him hold her a little tighter. Makes him feel weak as the soft glow of his mako-infused blues match her. ]
[ "What do you think of it?" ]
Beautiful.