[This close, Cloud can see the flecks of other colors in Zack's eyes. Blue, with that green mako glow that makes them an unnaturally saturated cerulean, but with a soft ring of brown around the outside of the iris, untouched by the mako. Pretty.
This close, the minute tremble of Zack's lips is obvious; not cold. Nerves, probably, terror at what they did, what they're capable of, what they could do. What they will do? No, Zack's never been afraid of a challenge like that. Zack's always been more afraid of never having the chance to try.
So this close, Cloud's heart splits neatly into two parts, fear and want: fear, because for a while he wasn't there but his body was and anything could've happened; fear because Zack still has mysterious, fragile parts to himself that Cloud can't understand, no matter how desperately he wants to be the sure, steady source of comfort Zack needs.
But then he wants, god does he want, he wants Zack to be safe, he wants Shinra to be dead, he wants to stay in his body with Zack's fingers around his wrist, pulling Cloud's arm tight around him. He wants that seething, acidic anger that eats away whenever he sees that ugly Shinra logo to disappear but he also wants to feed it until he can burn down the entire fucking Planet. He wants Zack to exist in a time and place separate from all this hurt, maybe even from Cloud, if only to protect him from a future Cloud can't even begin to see.
It's that there, the fear-want pounding away inside his ribs that makes Cloud act. It's not like what he'd always thought it would be, when he was thirteen and innocent, imagining himself giving Tifa flowers and her thanking him with a kiss. It's not like what he'd recoiled from that one time after making it to Midgar, as he slogged his way up onto the plate and a leering old man had offered to help him make a quick buck. It's not like anything, because in this, like everything else, Cloud is woefully unprepared.
But Zack's still here. And his eyes are...so, so pretty.
Cloud's answer, You with me, Cloud? is a brush of his free hand against Zack's cheek, over his scar, curious, clumsy. Touching in a way he's never touched somebody else before. He slips his hand behind Zack's hair to curl his fingers against the back of his neck, his thumb just barely against Zack's ear, and he leans over to press his lips off-center to Zack's own.
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momijizukamori
NOT THIS TIME
Date: 2020-08-02 08:20 am (UTC)This close, the minute tremble of Zack's lips is obvious; not cold. Nerves, probably, terror at what they did, what they're capable of, what they could do. What they will do? No, Zack's never been afraid of a challenge like that. Zack's always been more afraid of never having the chance to try.
So this close, Cloud's heart splits neatly into two parts, fear and want: fear, because for a while he wasn't there but his body was and anything could've happened; fear because Zack still has mysterious, fragile parts to himself that Cloud can't understand, no matter how desperately he wants to be the sure, steady source of comfort Zack needs.
But then he wants, god does he want, he wants Zack to be safe, he wants Shinra to be dead, he wants to stay in his body with Zack's fingers around his wrist, pulling Cloud's arm tight around him. He wants that seething, acidic anger that eats away whenever he sees that ugly Shinra logo to disappear but he also wants to feed it until he can burn down the entire fucking Planet. He wants Zack to exist in a time and place separate from all this hurt, maybe even from Cloud, if only to protect him from a future Cloud can't even begin to see.
It's that there, the fear-want pounding away inside his ribs that makes Cloud act. It's not like what he'd always thought it would be, when he was thirteen and innocent, imagining himself giving Tifa flowers and her thanking him with a kiss. It's not like what he'd recoiled from that one time after making it to Midgar, as he slogged his way up onto the plate and a leering old man had offered to help him make a quick buck. It's not like anything, because in this, like everything else, Cloud is woefully unprepared.
But Zack's still here. And his eyes are...so, so pretty.
Cloud's answer, You with me, Cloud? is a brush of his free hand against Zack's cheek, over his scar, curious, clumsy. Touching in a way he's never touched somebody else before. He slips his hand behind Zack's hair to curl his fingers against the back of his neck, his thumb just barely against Zack's ear, and he leans over to press his lips off-center to Zack's own.
I'm here. I'm here, I'm here I'm here.]