░ *s w e e t l i n g! ⊱

Jack wasn’t exactly known for making smart decisions. It was always Jack don’t linger behind, Jack don’t charge in ahead before we know what we’re doing, Jack trying to play Russian roulette with your sword isn’t clever. He was okay with that. He didn’t really expect a Jack that was a brilliant idea you should be the head of Class Zero not Queen or Trey!!! But that’s exactly what made him, him. Master of silly choices and even sillier reactions, nervous or not when it came to the long run. But he could claim he was doing just fine before this event but it didn’t take a genius to see otherwise. He had been scattered, uneasy, sleeping a little bit too late and getting up even later long after the sun had touched the grounds.

He would tell you she was a genius if you asked.

But while he wanted to continue he also did not want her to do this out of pity or a feeble attempt to wipe Seven from the front of his memories for such was a bold move and one that would end in mutual misery even moreso than they experienced together. It was strange watching her so uncertain of herself, even when she dropped her walls and her façade when they would hide away she still had this air that was cinque in every sense of the word and yet somehow, in some alternate timeline this was not entirely her and it filled him with both curiosity and concern.

Truthfully, he’d pulled away to make sure she was thinking clearly. He wanted to be the one in charge as he’d so often been in the past and to drag her about just slightly but this was so new and so foreign he couldn’t help but choke on the fear and the knowledge that he was currently standing back to back with Ryid himself. The 6 foot, buff, burly, smart and far older than he filled with wisdom beyond his ages. Jack could never live up to that no matter how long he lived and maybe that was a thought he should simply get used to regardless of where this happened to go.

As though she could read his mind however he was dragged so effortlessly from his spot against the wall before slamming into the ground below them, his head ebbing with a subtle pain as he winces from the rather hard smack that followed her apparent change of pace. She was here and she was there, she was kissing him and beating him up in the same breath and even in the same glance conveying more than a yes or a no that essentially ended up with his own beginning to swirl in total confusion. He understood where she was coming from they’d spent enough time together to do such but once his thoughts finally came together he figured it was one of those make or break moments he’d often heard Sice speak of before she went slamming through a field of enemies upon making her decision.

“It wasn’t the same…. because It isn’t supposed to be the same.” He knew she was referring to their other other halves, because he understood it was true just as much as she. Cinque was not seven and he was not Ryid, but for the briefest moment he thought that maybe, just maybe he could be bigger and he could be better and he would be better; it was all he needed, really, a moment. “we shouldn’t, but we did… And I’m gonna do it again.” He ignored her brief maybe’s and claims of no maybe not’s before placing both hands on her waist. She would stay softly in place before he forced himself up despite the pain ebbing along his back. Cinque was his constant, she had and would always be there for as long as he could imagine so while his brief spike of confidence was still there he quickly leans in to steal yet another kiss: bigger and bolder than he’d ever thought he’d manage to be or Etro help him.

Hands tighten as he draws her torso forwards, teeth sinking into her lip with more force than he’d utilized moments prior and it felt a little exhilarating to feel like he was making his own choices for the first time in forever. Fingertips trace along her spine, counting bumps and divots until he softly takes hold of the back of her neck and tangling into that wild mess of hair she wore so perfect. He knew there was a chance she’d swat him away and make a comment that he was out of line but it was worth one last try and right now, he had every intention try with everything he had.

It was with consideration she found herself looking at him rather than the want that had previously lingered between them as he explained why feeling different then she had previously was not necessarily a bad thing. Perhaps, she thought, her thumb running along the side of his cheek out of habit, she was not smart enough to understand the complexities of love in the way he did. His relationship with Seven had always been looming to her, bigger and better than anything she could be. It left her feeling small and stupid and left on the sidelines; a jealously she could never really put her finger until her lips met his.

Perhaps she was smarter then she’d given herself credit for. 

Maybe she’d always known somewhere deep inside her that they were meant to be entangled n the way they were now as opposed to the way they once were. Now was purposeful and enriched with feelings they’d long since buried and kept to fertilized with the brief touching of hands or bumping of noses. Then was also comforting but not in the same way, it was clumsy and inlaid with denial. There was always something between them, a mystery lost in the knit of bundled up feelings and a need to lean on the other. She was smart enough to know all along that perhaps he could be something more and dumb enough to ignore it.

That was when he pulled her closer she did not fight or kick or scream. It was simple triumph: she went limp from his touch, even hummed as he bit down in approval. He could read her mind she was sure partly because this moment was perfect and partly because she refused to believe how madly she wanted him was written on her face. Her hands slid from his cheeks and found their way to the front of his shirt, a white knuckle grip taking the place of what was once tender. They were both rough by nature, his hand at the back of her neck keeping her in her new found place and the energy she put forth in the kiss quickly surpassing hers. It was only natural that neither mind. What was one to do when a wrecking ball met another wrecking ball? Get in between and try to stop it? Only at the cost of a life. 

Gracelessly and breathlessly did she sit just under him taking everything that was him and choking back how very overwhelmed she was with all that this entailed. With did she pull back, clumsily bumping her nose where her lips had once been before resting her forehead on his chin in the selfish hopes that perhaps he would be dumbfounded by her scent and all that she was after he’d done the very same to her only moments ago. “If we shouldn’t have…” she was tentative and it was strange how very long she’d kept this careful side of her going, each word placed more carefully in the jigsaw that was this affair then the last. “...does that mean we don’t tell anyone?”

“Like when we do something wrong, yeah?” Concern was in her voice and she’d never once let go of the fabric of his shirt, giving him a firm tug as a childish way of asking him to hold her closer. “We always sweep it under the rug and pretend nothing happened so no one looks at us funny.” And oh, would they have funny looks to spare if they saw these two out in the hall doing more than their usual holding of hands. She loved him, of that she was sure: but did she love him? If she did could she bare to let the world know. “Sissy will be mad,” this was quieter than all else said before it, perhaps the tiniest her voice had been since they were brought into this world. Part of her knew that would only spur him on, revenge evidently on his mind after all the things he’d said in his blind panic. Maybe the mere mention of Sice would sidetrack the conversation and concerns she had and he would pull her in once again and silence her with yet another kiss. Maybe she’d like that. For a while in the least.

   Her proximity was far more alarming, fledgling boy having scoot his chair back simply to allow her room for creative domain whilst she told her tale——one of the very few times he sat elsewhere from his secluded window seat for class, given sitting next to Machina was nothing short of absolutely awkward now. Yet despite his concerns over personal space ( & worse yet, her falling flat on her face should she teeter just enough the other way), past experience seems to be enough to grant him calm enough to hold an actual conversation regardless. “… I don’t think Quon ever goes to the stables, Cinque.”

   It’d be surprising if the Class Third cadet ever left the library, honestly. “But I’ve never talked to him, really, especially not since he asked to snoop around Mother’s office. So, I think you don’t have much to worry about.”

     She didn’t mind how very squeamish he seemed at her approach at socialization as she’d conditioned herself to ignore the signs of repulsion in other people. If she hadn’t thrown social cues to the wind a very long time ago she was afraid she’d just never be able to talk to anyone. And still all of the whimsy dropped out of her rather suddenly, failing arms that told her story for her and alarming teetering came to an immediate halt as her expression turned to something far blanker and, despite the lack of emotion, more sinister. “I could murder him and no one would notice.” Eerily quiet (which was to say for once she used her inside voice) and still less of a declaration of action and more a sudden realization.

A beat missed.

Another. 

Seconds winding by that seemed like years in the aftermath of her suddenly cruel intentions. 

Reluctance to let go took over her as he pulled away from her kiss, a sudden fear that should her teeth cease grazing his bottom lip in the way they did he would tell her it was a mistake and that she was too bold. Worse yet, he’d tell her she was no Seven. She was guilty of it herself, sizing him up against Ryid even as they kissed but she feared it when it came to listing her against another. He loved Seven and she knew it, despite how she protested the relationship all while it happened he was helpless in her hands and now that he’d tumbled out of her grip he was helpless on the floor and she was down here with him bearing the weight of his standards for her (beautiful, more mature, and most importantly smarter). She was frustrated and scared and his words were a mere buzz to her. With eyes laid intently on his lips she got the jist of what it was he was saying; comforting but not enough. 

She’d lost her voice to the nervousness that bubbled in her stomach and made her head fuzzy and light. She’d thought about bypassing what he’d said, ignoring it completely and going back in for more. She’d thought about picking herself up from his lap and leaving to return to the chatty crowd of people who would and had just as soon left him. She’d thought about crying. 

“I-    ,“ A stuttered response as she tried to compose herself for both their sakes. None of the options that’d crossed her fervent mind seemed enough. She didn’t even know what exactly it was she meant by enough, but none of it was what she wanted to do. Was there anything she wanted? He’d wanted to kiss her. She’d obviously wanted to kiss him when she’d asked but that moment had passed and with something akin to a glare she was staring him down with an ironclad white knuckle grip on his shirt with no wants or to do’s on her mind. She was never one to reflect on what she wanted to do before she did it but he’d left her with nothing but thought as she tried to piece together what it was she needed from him. He’d made a blank slate of her and she wasn’t sure where to go from there. 

She could not waste anymore time in this frozen state; staring him down, the only movement managed being the twitch of her brow as she so obviously tried to make sense of the situation at hand. So she did what any reasonable Zero would have done. With the grip she’d secured on his shirt she slammed her weight forward and his weight down pinning him to the floor and throwing on leg, still tingling from where his finger had lingered on her thigh only moments before, over his torso so she might regain control of him, herself, and the situation. Her stare was just as intense as ever, perhaps a touch more scolding now that she was on top of him but still one hand unfurled from the death grip she had on him to slide the back of her hand down his cheek, something that in any other circumstance could be considered lovingly.

The boy knew exactly what his red haired counterpart was like. He knew that she was easily frazzled and had a mind like a ticking time bomb, filled with uncertainty and a swirl of darkness that most found far easier to dismiss rather than admit to. He knew, because he too had the same thing. Jack knew what it was like to be the pillar of sunshine and glitter and smiles. To be the boy who made awfully timed jokes about awful topics in the middle of an awful situation that just screamed for him to keep his mouth shut. But he was a distraction. A bad one, albeit a distraction nonetheless. So he understood it when she would fidget and shift and hide and avoid the meeting of tired eyes and tired minds. The thought of napping certainly felt easy but with the air thick and swirling around them both he figures it was probably a bad idea.

He focuses on the way she so gently presses into his chest. Her weight feels so familiar, like a home in the middle of the place they’d grown and blossomed and just maybe should have called home instead. She was his home. She with all her not-so-graceful, glitter-stained glory. She who would cry when you spoke wrong or touched her hair in the wrong way. She who had just pressed her lips so aggressively into his own he’d forgotten who he was for a brief moment. Perhaps that was reason for telling her his name? Had he forgotten completely that he was Jack due to the sudden shock she’d brought upon them in such an impasse.

An arm automatically curls around her midsection as she talks and mutters between them, spitting questions and queries he wasn’t entirely sure on how to answer but was very intent on doing so. “No no. Jakku isn’t mad. He would never be mad at you.” Really, he’d meant that anger wasn’t exactly something he’d learn to process very well but he carries on as though nay but a beat had been missed “It was—Well it was lots of things. But Jakku didn’t mind because you made the rushing stop. I’ve never been able to make the rushing stop before. But you did. You do.” He’d give anything to make a little bit more sense for the terrified girl now plopped idly in his lap. He wanted to speak, wanted to articulate the finer things and the actual thoughts that had nestled in the black of his mind and yet even when he tried, they were jumbled. “It wasn’t weird but it was weird, yeah? But not because we’re us. Maybe because Jakku never knew you knew how to do that. Or maybe because it felt–”

Again. He stops mid-sentence, crippled with fear and uncertainty that his current state might scare her off and she’d be gone as fast as she’d came. None would have realized how bothered he’d been after the entire ordeal. That the one person that made the swirls stop had dropped him for the other person he’d feared about most. He’d spoke of such worries, he’d tried, oh Etro had he tried so hard to keep himself together but loneliness was a fracture that never quite healed right and he was healing in all the wrong places. The young samurai had never expected to lean on his best friend like this. He didn’t want to put his extra weight on her shoulders and yet when she looked at him with those eyes she simply made him feel like things were going to be alright. She always made them alright.

“I don’t–” a pause lingers a little too long for his liking “I don’t really know. I just remember faces and blurrs and a voice that’s not really a voice but it’s words and I can understand them. Maybe she’s still alive. Maybe she’s not. I think I’m kind of just guessing a lot but it’s okay because sometimes when you think something is true it makes you feel a little bit better. Sometimes.” With a faint smile a shaky exhale leaves his chest. He’s worn out, truthfully, after such a frantic reaction to such a small comment. “But, you know, Elena is a nice name. One day you might be Elena again. But Jakku doesn’t mind, he likes you no matter what people call you.”

He knows there’s no avoiding the chocobo in the room and maybe, just maybe things wouldn’t end as bad as he was expecting. He knew his best friend inside and out, mostly, at least the things he didn’t know he didn’t find himself worrying about because if he was needed she would come and that was enough to keep him happy. But this wasn’t something he could leave. It was something that would linger ever so slightly between them and it would continue to do so until one of them snapped, cracked EXPLODED into a strange mess of emotions and words and he hated words and as such would avoid them if possible “…Jakku didn’t mind it much at all when you kissed him. Jakku kind of liked it. I mean—You know, Shinku is the only one that’s special. Everybody loves us but they don’t know us and that’s weird. If anything we’re the opposite of weird and fuzzy. They’re the weird fuzzy ones, y’know?” 

Idly does he run his hand along her back, requiring some kind of movement or the like to focus more prominently on than how close and unsure he felt admitting all of this to the little one opposite him. “Does Shinku feel weird… because if Shinku feels weird and wants to pretend like today was a super weird dream or just totally didn’t happen Jakku can try to do that. He’d try for you.” She was so important. So important. He could stand to lose Seven, that scar would close over as time passed and dream upon dream would pass him by. But losing Cinque? Oh no, losing the fifth child would only create a hole that would manifest and grow before swallowing him whole. He couldn’t do that. “Jakku feels… calm. Is that weird? Should I feel like maybe I should wanna puke? Cause I definitely don’t feel that.” Carefully, tentatively, he reaches out to idly link their fingers together, lips pursing ever so slightly off to the right as he glances awkwardly down at his feet that looked much smaller from up here than he’d remembered from hours earlier. 

     “You’d never ever get mad at Shinku?” It was simply idle acceptance when she let him pull her closer, too lost in his words to kick and squirm as she usually would. She wasn’t cuddly for the front of naivety she put forward; touch made her skin crawl and made her mind race and it was on her conditions and her conditions alone she would accept it. Yet as she was pulled further into his lap and this mess of traps and careful wording they’d made of themselves she did not fight, simply putting her hand over where his hand lay. His ghost and his familiar. A tiny bit of sanity for him despite her best efforts to off put. It made sense to her that they should be together but it didn’t make sense that they were together, tangled the way that they were. But still her eyes were locked on his lips, darting up to met his eyes every few seconds for she could not bare to keep stationary for so long. How had she known how to stop him? “Ryid used to-   “ Her words drifted and her line of vision followed, words cut off with a shrug. “I know a lot of stuff.” 

It was a simple statement and still she could not carry it with confidence, be it for the slip of her tongue or her own disbelief. Thoughtlessly did she disappear back into the crook of his neck, nudging him with her nose and alerting him to her unyielding presence with soft breathes. She pressed against where his hand wandered down her back, taking in the silence and for once in her life stepping back and considering her next move before taking it. She hadn’t expected all this to come from her trot after him down the hall. Would she take it back if she could? Lips brush against his neck next, lip gloss all but gone from previous affairs. No, she wouldn’t have. She imagined all those moments of silence she’d let envelop them were driving him more crazy than a peck ever could, she could practically feel what she imagined the buzzing in his head felt like. It was very much like her own. 

“How did you stop it before?” Where he’d taken the bold step to intertwine their fingers, taking the hand she’d put ever so protectively over his, she followed in boldness rising from the crook of his neck looking sleepy and very nearly intoxicated on this display of undying faith in one another. “The rushing? You must have been able to stop it before.” Questions asked as she rose on her knees, one of his thigh captured between her legs all so she might clunk her forehead against hers with free hand running through his hair and against the grain. “If I know things, you know things. So how did you know to stop it before?” 

“Did Seven make it go away like Shinku did? I’ve seen the way you look at her. It’s not the way you look at me.” She felt more at ease looking down at him. A veil of authority was all that kept her from crumbling the way he had. Vulnerability was a common trait of their-   friendship? Was she still allowed to linger on such a word? Was it more now? Would it be less? Either way for one to see the other down and out was not uncommon. But this time around they’d lost themselves to the weakness, given into it and ruined something they’d had. Or at least she had. With a piercing stare she never once took her eyes from his or her forehead from his or the tip of her nose from his. Asserting dominance, trying to reestablish normalcy through oddity, trying not to fall in love with the cracks in his armor. Call it what you would. “Is she really special? Cinque, I mean.” 

She had more questions as much as she hated to overload him once more. She didn’t want to see him unhappy; never. But at the same time she could not contain herself or her curiosity or the buzzing that came with her fear of not being what he said she was to him. Heavy was the heart that heard he would try to forget the kiss, brought down by both the implication that he ever could and by the implication that part him never would even if it was what she wanted. She was always so sure of what she wanted wasn’t she? Domineering and towering over him even now she found herself hesitating. When he looked away she felt herself lower, sitting pretty in his lap once more. “Do you...want to try again?”

The question was quiet but it was not followed by option as she took back the hand idly roving through blonde locks to pinch his chin between thumb and pointer. She demanded attention and in this case she went out and got it for herself, bringing his eyes back to hers with gentle redirection before pulling him forward so it was his lips that met hers and later she would not have to think so heavily on the subject, They could linger this time. She could know him and he could know her and they could be frightened together.

        For the briefest, most fleeting moment, he finds himself captivated with the little red head and the sensation is so overwhelming he forgets to breathe. The way she leans into his palm brings a flutter to his chest and its terrifying because for that very moment all he wants to do is shuffle closer and press his lips into her own again just to feel that sensation of the butterflies fluttering by his stomach and his head and basically everywhere else butterflies decided they were allowed to without even asking permission. But he hopes the expression on his face is less obvious than it feels in his head and he idly cants it to the side, studying her for just a moment longer as he takes in how incredible she was in every single thing she did.

Jack’s attention when to the fifth child was always on point so it was very rare anything slipped by him. He picked up on when she was sad, or when she was overwhelmed or when she just needed a break to allow her senses to lull back into a neutral state. So it was no surprise that he noticed her every shift and fidget as he brushes over soft skin. But he didn’t want to draw attention to a reaction possibly automatic and possibly irrelevant for he had his place and so too did she and they worked so effortlessly without a hitch. He didn’t want to break that, not if he could help it, but the sound of her words snapped him effortlessly out of the brief tirade his mind had ventured upon in his little moment off in his head.

But unfortunately she was right. And that was something he’d never have a choice over. They wouldn’t notice if one was missing because it had never mattered if one of them was missing. If Sice disappeared or if Ace did, they all knew that one way or another they would come right back and wind up where they’d started. So too would Jakku. They’d assume so anyway. They never stopped to check on the loudest pair for when were they anything less but fine? They weren’t bright enough to feel anything but flighty and bubbly so why oh why would they need to be checked on? Jack could hold himself together well enough that much was true but it was an uncomfortable reminder that they had each other and that was that and that’s how it would stay. But crystal blues track her movements carefully and curiosity sinks into his thoughts “But you shouldn’t have to. Cinque shouldn’t feel like she has to do anything she doesn’t like.”

Idly he moves with her pulls and tugs and recalls how much heavier he actually is while thinking particularly carefully about his next reply. It was no simple feat for Cinque to offer such a heavy statement. For most you would expect them to give you their attention, that if their train of thought disappeared you’d scold them irritably and draw their attention back once again. Cinque was different. Jack understood that better than anyone. It was hard keeping a solid thought when things seemed to turn to squiggles and blurred and birds were practically screaming in your ear alongside Queens firm lecture. It was hard. So even just the offering of her attention made those warm fuzzies flow through his body.

“… Jakku’s name is Benji, Y’know? I mean you don’t know and that’s why Jakku is tellin’ you. His name is—was? Benji Harris.” The boy wasn’t really sure why he’d started this conversation now of all times but it had slipped and running with it just seemed like the right thing to do regardless of how strange and out of place it might seem. “Jakku can remember a blonde lady calling out to him. At least he thinks he does… It sounds happy in his head but sometimes he wonders if he just made it all up and there’s no blonde lady at all.” Lazily does he settle to rest in a way that mimics the younger ones posture before missing the closeness, humming softly to himself as he carries on “But sometimes it’s nice when stuff gets weird and fuzzy to just… think about the blonde lady who Jakku assumes was his mom. I think I loved her a lot.” Another pause as a gentle sigh escapes his lips, rubbing at his eye now the intense unease had subsided into a sickening lull “Cinque does the same thing, yeah? She makes Jakku feel like everything is gonna just end up okay. Because she stays with him. She follows when nobody else does.” His lips quirk into the softest smile before redirecting his gaze back to her face “Jakku would be a mess without you.”

     She was trying to be attentive as she promised she would be, trying so hard her head swam in the dark cavern of where she once held the light behind her eyes, but when his speech lulled she found herself half-lidded on the verge of a cloudy glare trying to understand and wondering. Wondering if he’d already forgotten her desperate albeit passionate attempts to distract him, wondering if he was suddenly as tired as she, wondering how they’d ended up here. The excitement had all but left her, where there were once butterflies she was only left to wonder if they’d ever speak of what she’d done ever again. She was weary, she was tired, she dared not contain the frown that came with these revelations of how very quiet she was in the wake of his want for comfort, his want for something happier than her. Perhaps she could have plugged herself into the idea of being happy again, gone the distance and ruffled his hair and smiled bright and blinding as she was. But as she looked in his eyes, really looked, she found she didn’t need to. “Are you mad?” It was simple, the first words she’d spoken in awhile that was not repeating the same old track of harsh truths. She stammered, trying to keep up with how they’d taken to speaking, forgetting it for a moment, “Is Jakku mad Shinku kissed him?”

Nose to nose, she could only bare to wait for the answer for so long. With furrowed brows and a straight line in place of expression she braved his stare for only seconds before she opted out, burrowing her head under his chin and seeking refuge from him within him. “She shouldn’t have.” It was a statement, simple and as she knew it true. She knew why he was in this state, she knew he’d been abandoned by the last person he kissed. She had been too. But that didn’t make it better, did it? All this talk of listening and she’d failed to put the listening to use. “It wasn’t right. It was...weird? Wasn’t it?” Her nose pressed against his throat and she found it in herself to finally shut her eyes, tight as she could to focus her thoughts, as she dwelled on her own question. Wasn’t it? Wasn’t it supposed to be odd? “Wasn’t it?”

Her hands made busy work of bundling the fabric of his shirt behind his back but otherwise her touch was light, waiting for him to speak from underneath him considering herself hidden despite proximity because she did not have to look him in the eye as she asked question upon question. With the best of luck he’d ignore it still and they’d never talk about it again, with the worst he’d suddenly find issue with her means of dealing and ask her to leave. It was a weight she’d felt once or twice before but was never able to get used to. 

Her silence was consuming and selfish and had he not spoken up it would have been there to stay. She looked up at his startling confession but she hadn’t the common sense to move away from the niche she’d made of him, making her nose collide with his chin with a startling amount of power. But she didn’t seem to mind. Like many times before where she hurt herself and even other’s she kept going, looking up at him perplexed at the sudden information laid at his feet. She didn’t know what to do with it, she didn’t know that she should know what she now knew. “Benji?” It was an idle question, that didn’t bring about any questions so much as let the name roll of her tongue, an experiment of sorts. She let the moment sit as she considered evening the playing field, letting him in on her secrets. She’d never seen a reason to before. She wasn’t even sure why he’d want it to give her this information now and thinking about it brought back that sinking feeling that always overtook her when she thought too hard. It was better to act then to dwell, she’d always found despite how her voice cracked in protest as she began, “Cinque was Elena.”

“Oh dear oh dear….”

CHEEP CHEEP IM A SHEEP