#but !!!!

All he really recalled was him agreeing to spar with her in the evenings, to help ‘let off some steam’ as she had suggested, which he found no harm in, after all, their day to day consisted of many battles, patrols and meetings, one would expect to remain wound up even after the day has ended. It had remained cordial for a time, the Captain had even found himself looking forwards for their matches as time went on, for fighting against Lightning always brought a challenge, with her speed and strength against his defense and endurance.

It was like a dance, a push and pull and a round and round they went – meeting in the middle but never closing the distance, the tempo of their silent song always reaching a lull as neither dancer wished to cross that threshold that would lead to the crescendo. That is until one day, when Lighting had managed to pin him to the ground, his sword and shield flying out of his hand and her legs straddling him, keeping the Warrior in place beneath her with her blade just inches away from his neck. 

His chest heaved with every breath he took as did hers, their eyes locking…and he’s not sure when her sword had fallen to the wayside but all he could remember was the clanging of the metal against the floor and how Lightning's hands grabbed the front of his shirt and his own reaching for her waist and finally – they met in the middle, the threshold had been crossed and their dance became one and the same. 

It didn’t happen often but neither of them didn’t put a stop to it either…finding themselves gravitating towards the other when that itch became too unbearable – and they would find themselves amongst tangled sheets at night but a silent rule had been implemented. 

Neither would remain to sleep in the other’s room. 

Seeing how they lived in a building with many others, which included children ( Onion Knight would protest), it would be in poor taste if any of them were to be seen leaving the other’s room in the morning. 

Light never questioned it, he understood the logic behind it. 

But it never did stop the sudden cold that his bed would take on once Lightning left for the night. A sort of loneliness would take hold of his heart but he had no way of explaining it – he couldn’t ask any of the others about it, for it would mean exposing their arrangement and quite frankly, the Warrior was a private man, he’d rather not have to endure seeing Balthier’s knowing smirks and Clive’s well-meaning but unneeded advice. 

And he certainly couldn’t speak to Lightning about it. 

It left him wondering if this…meant something to her. Or nothing at all.

If she felt that same loneliness as he did. Or if she merely saw him as something to distract her for just a couple of hours.

‘I want you to stay the night’ 

She said it quietly – her usual sharpness dulled and put away like a blade within a sheath. It was said like a secret she finally wanted to share, in the safety of this room that they shared their warmth in. 

Light, gathering himself, finally turns to face his companion – his periwinkle hues meeting the sea-like ones of her own. The air between them was still, nary a breath nor even a sound from outside could be heard. It was as if the world put itself on pause, as these two secret lovers figured out where to go from here. 

The Warrior decided to choose for them. 

“If that is what you wish…” he says at last, his own voice soft, the usual stern cadence it bore null and put away for the night. All that remained was a tenderness Light has yet to find an explanation for. Undoing the buttons he had just done, the star-hued warrior slipped his shirt from his broad shoulders, allowing the garment to fall back to the floor. Moving carefully, Light pulls back the covers and settles back in beside Lightning, his head resting on the pillow and once more does his gaze meet hers. 

All is quiet between them– two warriors, summoned to a strange world to fight for beings unknown – finding a semblance of solace in between tangled sheets and quiet, city lights glittering from the windows. 

She’s beautiful like this. 

Bare as the goddess of love upon her birth from the sea foam, and hair mussed and falling along her face like rose petals – before he could stop himself, Light’s hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, sword calloused fingers grazing along her cheek as he did so.

Carefully, longingly…

He wants to hold her, pull her close and cradle her against his frame – would she let him? 

Would she allow him this one thing? This closeness that had nothing to do with exchanging heavy breaths and passion fueled touches. 

Would she allow him, a man with nothing else to give, to hold her and never let go?