Final Fantasy VI (Cyan/ Terra)
Jul. 1st, 2007 07:38 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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kinkfestTitle: Never alone.
Author: MzXanthER
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count:678
Summery: A little comfort on the Velt.
The first time he discovered her curled against his side, he had been confused as to how she had gotten so close without waking him. He had carefully pulled away, and when the rest of the camp rose, he had ignored it and went about his business.
It happened again a week later, only this time he stirred when she settled down next to him. He continued the pretense of sleep while his mind raced with uncertainties. Out of all in their party, why would she choose him, an embittered old man to lie down next to? During the day he could count on one hand the total number of words exchanged between each other. Though his thoughts would have kept him awake, the warmth that spread along his right side was an unexpected comfort and he eventually fell asleep.
It began to happen more frequently after that. No one in the party remarked upon it, but as he underwent his strict daily regiment to be up and dressed long before she stirred, an uneasy sentiment lingered.
At night they worried about, the savage monsters of the Veldt roaming about. He volunteered to take the first watch, and once everyone had bedded down, she approached and sat next to him by the camp fire.
Neither one spoke at first; the silence loud in its discomfort. As Cyan prepared to break the palpable silence and inquire about her peculiar nocturnal habits, she inched closer to him.
“I feel that if we are to have a conversation, it would be better side by side, don’t you think?”
She settled into his personal space, her shoulder against his arm, their hips lightly touching. His shock kept his mouth shut, and his embarrassment at the thoughts that came about because of that touch kept his eyes on the fire.
“Cyan.” His name on her tongue took an exotic flavor. He raised his eyes and turned to look at her, holding his breath with how close her face seemed to his.
Knowing what was coming next, he put up his hand, silencing her. “I am far too aged a warrior for my lady’s attention.”
She grabbed his calloused hand, pulling it towards her chest. “You’re not,” she responded; her eyes radiating emotion. She looked, at that moment, just as young as he knew her to be.
“Then I am too bitter and too scarred from this life, my Lady” and this is when he wished that he were less just, less moral, “Thou art still young. I am not a suitable partner for my lady.”
Instead of pulling away or releasing his hand, she smiled at him. “All of us here are scarred and bitter, that is why we fight Kefka. We have all grown since the end of the world. I think we are all changed. A little comfort offered shouldn’t be pushed away. It may be the last comfort we’ll have.”
Her smiled widened as she guided his hand lower to her breast. “And I will choose who is man enough for me and who is not.” Her eyes were glowing, boring into his soul.
He felt as if she understood what it mean to lose Doma; to lose everything—his home, his wife and son, his Excellency. Her intimacy no longer suffocated him, making him yearn for more. As he reached for her with his unoccupied hand, she closed the remaining distance between them, taking his face in her hands and kissing him with passion that he would not have thought possible. Her petite frame pressed against his toned physique, bracing herself against him.
Even when he tore her shirt in his haste, she did nothing but urge him on. She giggled once, nearly breaking him, but answered quietly, “Your moustache tickles.”
That grin, that happy look on her young face that he had put there, was the final barrier that made him feel that he could do this, take her, and be by her side. He had failed in protecting Doma, but he would not fail in protecting her.
Author: MzXanthER
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count:678
Summery: A little comfort on the Velt.
The first time he discovered her curled against his side, he had been confused as to how she had gotten so close without waking him. He had carefully pulled away, and when the rest of the camp rose, he had ignored it and went about his business.
It happened again a week later, only this time he stirred when she settled down next to him. He continued the pretense of sleep while his mind raced with uncertainties. Out of all in their party, why would she choose him, an embittered old man to lie down next to? During the day he could count on one hand the total number of words exchanged between each other. Though his thoughts would have kept him awake, the warmth that spread along his right side was an unexpected comfort and he eventually fell asleep.
It began to happen more frequently after that. No one in the party remarked upon it, but as he underwent his strict daily regiment to be up and dressed long before she stirred, an uneasy sentiment lingered.
At night they worried about, the savage monsters of the Veldt roaming about. He volunteered to take the first watch, and once everyone had bedded down, she approached and sat next to him by the camp fire.
Neither one spoke at first; the silence loud in its discomfort. As Cyan prepared to break the palpable silence and inquire about her peculiar nocturnal habits, she inched closer to him.
“I feel that if we are to have a conversation, it would be better side by side, don’t you think?”
She settled into his personal space, her shoulder against his arm, their hips lightly touching. His shock kept his mouth shut, and his embarrassment at the thoughts that came about because of that touch kept his eyes on the fire.
“Cyan.” His name on her tongue took an exotic flavor. He raised his eyes and turned to look at her, holding his breath with how close her face seemed to his.
Knowing what was coming next, he put up his hand, silencing her. “I am far too aged a warrior for my lady’s attention.”
She grabbed his calloused hand, pulling it towards her chest. “You’re not,” she responded; her eyes radiating emotion. She looked, at that moment, just as young as he knew her to be.
“Then I am too bitter and too scarred from this life, my Lady” and this is when he wished that he were less just, less moral, “Thou art still young. I am not a suitable partner for my lady.”
Instead of pulling away or releasing his hand, she smiled at him. “All of us here are scarred and bitter, that is why we fight Kefka. We have all grown since the end of the world. I think we are all changed. A little comfort offered shouldn’t be pushed away. It may be the last comfort we’ll have.”
Her smiled widened as she guided his hand lower to her breast. “And I will choose who is man enough for me and who is not.” Her eyes were glowing, boring into his soul.
He felt as if she understood what it mean to lose Doma; to lose everything—his home, his wife and son, his Excellency. Her intimacy no longer suffocated him, making him yearn for more. As he reached for her with his unoccupied hand, she closed the remaining distance between them, taking his face in her hands and kissing him with passion that he would not have thought possible. Her petite frame pressed against his toned physique, bracing herself against him.
Even when he tore her shirt in his haste, she did nothing but urge him on. She giggled once, nearly breaking him, but answered quietly, “Your moustache tickles.”
That grin, that happy look on her young face that he had put there, was the final barrier that made him feel that he could do this, take her, and be by her side. He had failed in protecting Doma, but he would not fail in protecting her.
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no subject
Date: 2007-07-03 06:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-04 03:30 am (UTC)I'm glad you liked it!
Cyan is so macho, its kinda hard to get him to loosen up and show his kind(er) side.