WE WON'T FALL

                     In his off day, what Noel liked more is hanging out in local cafés. He always liked the pastries they offered—especially when it’s baked fresh. If he wasn’t working long hours being a line cook, he would definitely take a job in a café. But, even he couldn’t trust himself with that. He would go overboard with taking home the pastries that weren’t sold. His roommate would definitely make a big deal about that. He’s sure.

Sitting with coffee by the window, he looks over at the patrons. Everyone has something to do—like the students with papers. He wonders how cool it might be to become a student, but he realizes he’s romanticizing and that’s unhealthy. Pursing his lips, he looks at his coffee cup before gingerly taking a sip. What could he do in his spare time? Perhaps he could check the bookstore to get some cookbooks to study, or maybe get something more fictional. Lately the memories have become more prominent and his heart is aching more. The guilt was something he could never escape.

Standing up from his chair, he walks over to the creamers and sugars; noticing that his coffee wasn’t really the way he liked it. But that’s okay. Absentmindedly pouring sugar, his hand reaches over to get a disposable spoon but, instead, a warm hand touched his.

sighing over the health potion themed cocktail, fingers begin to spin and twirl the edges of the glass. careful now, aerith, you’re dangerously close to falling asleep. free hand buried beneath her chin, it’s not long before her elbow weaks and gives way, a startling thud of her palm hitting the bar counter awakening herself — and unfortunately others around her. looking around sheepishly, she can only announce herself and try to cut the embarrassment short.

vanitas is tired.   exhausted,  really,  but when is that anything new  ?   this constant dull ache that hangs onto him like a virus.   it’s better than before though,  years ago,  when he could barely get out of bed,  if you could call a pile of clothes and blankets on the floor under a wooden table a bed.   he should count his blessings,  ever since leaving his grandfather’s house,  that he doesn’t have to deal with anything other than shitty,  demanding drunks who annoy him with their woes.   it’s better than shitty,  demanding grandfathers who are shitty even without a drop of liquid poison in their system.

tonight was a busy night,  at least,  busy enough that vanitas could ignore the thoughts in his head.   he had taken on two shifts,  someone else called out earlier in the day,  and well.   vanitas was getting paid for it.   not like he had anywhere to really be,  anyways,  so he had thrown himself into the mechanical routine of it all;   simply moving like his body was on autopilot as he poured drinks;   ignoring those cheating on their partners,  those trying to start arguments for fun,  those crying in the corner about their lives.

pathetic.

he doesn’t realise it’s two am until most of the patrons have left,  those still clinging on almost passed out in their chairs while the other more sociable bartends try to contact someone to pick them up.   he wipes the counter with a clean cloth,  having already kept inventory of which alcohols they’ll need to get a new stock of.

fuck,  he’s so tired;   rubbing at his eyes annoyedly,  he places the towel down when he hears a loud squeak. 

what the fuck.

he lifts it up only to see a frowning mouse looking right up at him.   they hold a staring contest for all of two seconds before the animal turns around as vanitas looks up to see an all too familiar blond.

“It’s my turn now…”

                       With all things considered, Lightning lived her life fairly normally. She had a well-paying job, a place, and a healthy and happy mental and physical health. Well, as healthy as it would allow her—especially mental health-wise. Despite this, she can never shake the feeling that she didn’t belong in this physical space. She was certain that she was meant to be somewhere else. Arcadia wasn’t her true home, especially with the fact that she had suddenly woken up with memories of names that she had never associated faces to. 

Nevertheless, she tries her best to keep it together and not think of it so much. However, one name in her list brings her some form of familiarity—hope and sadness. Whenever she thinks of it, she would feel a pang of pain in her heart. A pain of longing and of loss.

                                                                    Serah

Lightning’s head shoots up at the mention of her name. It was then when she saw another woman at the coffee counter. A rush of feelings overcame Lightning at that point, and before she could stop herself she was already walking towards the one who identified herself as Serah.

❝ Serah?❞

chris has been doing well.   low stress   –  he’s only got a couple of online classes left anyways before graduation this spring,  having worked really hard to finish sooner.   after all,  not like he had many distractions   –  his family having left arcadia,  no real friends to party with…   well.   it all worked out in his favour,  seeing as he was able to take nearly 21 units at a time.   and,  with his programming gig,  his life is good.   more than,  even.   he’s adulting,  just the way he should be.   so who cares if he doesn’t have a Meaningful Relationship with someone  ? 

he does.   he does care.   a lot.   more than he’d like to admit,  if he’s truly being honest with himself.   the last meaningful relationship he’s ever had was with   –

“   –  sam  ?  ”

she saw him and she began to retreat.

c’mon –

sam

fuck.

He never really questioned his relationship with Serah. It just kind of happened and somehow, he never minded her all that much. As more and more time went by, he only seemed to want to protect her from harm’s way, with his feeling intensifying as more time went by. As bad as it sounded, she was starting to serve as an emotional crutch to him–someone that was helping to keep him at bay with all the changes that came with this new life.

As per his usual routine, he showed up at her workplace just as he finished with his studies, books in one arm. By this point, he was ready to go home and sleep, which was more than likely what would happen once they went to her apartment. Todoroki stood by the door before finding his seat beside others waiting for their orders, silently waiting for her.

the life she had here , it felt fleeting and incomplete – but always cherished. in the midst of her journey , she managed to meet someone who meant something to her. even more than just something , someone one she came to LOVE.  someone who made her feel safe despite the thoughts that would cast shadows in her mind. and serah farron could only hope that he felt the same way. to be a beacon that will guide him away from the darkness that plagues him, it was always the little things that spoke to her n high volumes , and seeing him waiting for her brought the softest of smiles to her. and that faint flutter of her heart was hard to ignore. she wasn’t certain of much , but it may be a naive thought – but he hasn’t given her incentive to doubt him.

and that was good enough for her to believe in him. she saw the good in others when they couldn’t see it themselves. that’s part of who she is.

“FINALLY, you’re up.” Zack greeted Cloud in a cheerful tone, he looked over at his husband with a bright smile. In another life, the smile would have seen MISPLACED, unusual for the type of person he generally was. A soldier, through and through, he should have realized he was on an endless mission. One that, no matter what, he’d fail. Time and time again. “I made some coffee. Do you want some breakfast, sweetheart?”