[ It takes Tifa a little longer than she means to send him a time and a place, mostly because she bothers to go check out the dining options. She doesn't want it to be too over the top ( or too, uh, sex friendly ). She ends up settling on the Red Cardinal, which could, for all intents and purposes, be a normal classy restaurant and bar in the slums.
Message sent, gym and shower had, she returns to her new room. She's meaning to run down to the shops to get a dress, but there's a package on her bed with a card only marked with a diamond. She opens it, and her eyes go wide. Her dresses, from Sector 7. They shouldn't have survived. Nothing should have. Does that mean -- ?
She can't dwell on it. It's too much. But she does pull the blue one out, the one she meant to wear when they went out together. It hurts, a little, but it's nice too. One thing that didn't get taken from her. From them.
Time won't move fast enough, even as she draws out getting ready. When it is time, she feels oddly self-conscious walking through the hallways, tucking her hair behind her ear near compulsively. The dress is low enough that the scar between her breasts and the slightly mottled skin is just visible, even if the bow hides some of it. That and it's a little dated, a little short, even for her. Something she'd bought two years ago and never gotten a chance to wear.
She's so in her head, she almost doesn't notice him standing outside right away, but when she does, her face lights up, and she waves at him, almost laughing. Some part of her thought this was gone forever. Because of Sector 7, because of Nibelheim, because of this game-- ]
[ this is a date -- and he's never been on a date.
he lays on his bed, legs kicked up, palms beneath his head. his heart judders against his rib cage, but he couldn't tell you why; he wonders what she'll wear. if she'll be happy to see him. she's just being nice -- cooperating with an old friend, trying to latch onto some semblance of normalcy here...
and he's overthinking it.
he doesn't know what to wear. he rummages through the little clothes he has. a white dress shirt and ebony slacks -- but what if that isn't enough? what if she thought he was homely, or inadequate for the occasion?
it doesn't matter, he thinks, heaving out a breath. it doesn't matter! she doesn't want him anyways. he shuffles out of his room. he's early, and the red cardinal bustles with its usual business; it distracts him just enough that he stops honing in on the possibility of her standing him up.
his head angles up, and she's here-- and for a moment, he holds his breath before quashing it. his eyes skirt her thighs, and then the contours of her hips, roving up her chest before settling on her face. she was stunning and his stomach is bursting into butterflies. cloud blinks once -- then twice. ]
...Hey. [ it comes out a bit rigidly, but his eyes are bright. ] I, uh, got a table for us.
[ a hand swivels up to rub at the back of his head: a small, sheepish gesture. his eyes are fixed onto her -- enraptured and affectionate. he doesn't have the words for it. he never does.
eventually, a waitress guides them to their table. the restaurant is limned in red light, casting jaundiced shadows against the walls. there's an ambiance about it, and it feels more romantic than it should.
they're seated now, and he goes quiet, having yet to touch his menu. ]
[ She was worried too, that he wouldn't show. Not so much that he'd stand her up, but that he'd get too uncomfortable and take a rain check, and then she'd never get him to agree again.
Which would be okay. He was allowed to do that. He didn't owe her anything.
But he's there, and -- oh wow, he's in a button down and slacks, and she's not sure if it's actually flattering on him or not. Somehow it looks even more like a generic uniform than his SOLDIER clothes, and it's like he recedes a little, almost like it's saying don't look at me.
But she's also so ridiculously happy that he's here and that he tried that her chest hurts with the force of her feelings. She's breathless as she watches him look her over, and her stomach does flips. Is he -- checking her out?
For a moment, the image of him naked and sweating flashes in her mind, and it's all she can do to hold her gaze steady, praying she isn't blushing. That's not fair. They weren't themselves. And whatever he's doing now, it doesn't make her feel like a piece of meat, or even the same as that night. It's gentler and more affectionate.
Friends.
She can set the pang of disappointment aside. It's not his fault she has feelings and he doesn't. That's normal. It happens all the time. This is more than she was promised, and she's going to enjoy it, because she cares about him no matter what they are. ]
Thanks. They're busier than I expected.
[ He's hard to get talking sometimes, when he's aloof like this. That's okay. She can give him his space. What she can't do is stand too close, because then she's going to start thinking about the fact that he looks really cute in a teen-boy-at-a-dance way, but also in a you-have-beautiful-shoulders way, and that's not okay. She's not making this weird.
The waitress leads them in, and Tifa doubts her choice for a moment. It is a little romantic, and that wasn't her intent but...it was still better than the other choices.
The menu gives her something to latch onto, because her hands are suddenly sweaty and she wants to stare at her feet. But when Cloud speaks, her eyes fly up like she was waiting on him this whole time. Maybe she was.
And then she's smiling, bright-eyed and girlish. She's been called beautiful so many times, but he isn't the kind of guy to just say that stuff. ]
You do too. I'm impressed.
[ She bites her lips. Was that condescending? ]
It's been...better than the first day. My room is nice. Nicer than my old apartment. And the people on our floor seem normal. It's better than--
[ She winces. She doesn't really want to talk about that, because she doesn't want him to know how bad it was, those first years, or how stupid she'd been. ]
A good, solid carving knife, at that. While she could do this somewhere private, messing it up in her own room wouldn't do. To make sure she could remember the perfection circle fully, it was better to pick a halfway hidden spot to vandalize with it. After some hunting around, she finds a nice hallway nook around the rank 5 rooms.
There's a loose rug she pulls aside and beneath it is soft wood flooring. Ideal. In no time, she has carved out a broad circle. Within it, she's digging in geometrical shapes with steady handed accuracy. For something "occult", the circle looks more mathematical in nature than magical...
She's not paying much attention to her surroundings, but the scratching sound is probably peculiar to any passing by at this hour,]
[ the sound tugs at his nerves; calls to his irritation, grinding down on his ears. cloud is leaving his room when he recognizes her. daan's alleged best friend, the one who had called him to breakfast that morning.
one of the resort's esteemed employees is striding down the halls when he sees her. cloud moves quickly, shoulders stiffening, posture straightening. ]
Hey, [ he says to marina. ] someone's com--
[ the employee is there before he can finish. he arches a brow, peering over cloud's shoulder to examine the newfound carving.
"and what is all this?" ]
Don't worry about it. [ cloud's eyes flit to marina. ] We were playing a game.
[She jolts in surprise when he speaks to her, having not noticed his approach. Whoops- she should really be more aware, especially if she's out vandalizing the flooring.
Cloud's warning gives her just enough time to stow the knife away, not wanting it to be confiscated. She just got it! This would be way too soon to lose it. Luckily, she had been blowing away any debris she carved out through the process, so there's nothing that really screams fresh about the sigil.
She immediately feigns that they just found it this way!]
Hoi, staffer! We were looking for haunted stuff. This looks pretty suspect, don't you think? [Yeah, she blames it on the hotel.
The staffer just kicks the rug back into place and says they'll... deal with it later. In the tone of someone who doesn't get paid enough at the 5th rank patrol to actually do anything about it OR further investigate what these two were actually getting up to. Marina stands and dusts off her skirt, skipping over to Cloud's side and nudging him with her hip. Her hands arms reach to loop around one of his,]
We can hunt ghosts somewhere else, let's go. [yeah, playing at Ghost Adventures, just harmless fun together in the hotel nothing to see here, staff]
[ Tifa thought she was calm and prepared for this. Other than grinning to herself a lot more than she fully cared to admit, she'd kept herself pretty composed, doing her usual training, seeing someone else for coffee, and popping down to the shop to get a dress since she'd been meaning to anyway. And honestly, after everything at home and everything here, she wasn't going to waste feeling so smiley.
She spends awhile shopping, just enjoying getting to browse, and flushing every time she catches herself picturing Cloud's reaction. It's a date, yes, but she shouldn't get ahead of herself, and it's not like he notices that stuff.
The Glided Cage is fancy, but she stays away from the full evening wear. It reminds her too much of what she was wearing the night of the auction. Instead she settles on on something a little more practical, even daring to show a little more chest -- and the scar that goes with it. Cloud's already seen her naked, so...it doesn't entirely matter. And it's nice not to have to worry about her clothes being the reason someone treats her weirdly.
So she's feeling confident and excited and just a little nervous when she shows up at the Gilded Cage a little before eight. She barely has time to smile and say hello before they're being swept away to a table.
A couple's table. In a corner, with curtains that clearly can be drawn for privacy. With a bench and no chairs, sitting nearly thigh to thigh, and handed a "for two" menu.
She's trying so hard not to turn bright red. However awkward she's feeling, he has to have it worse. But she's also trying extremely hard not to give in to the desire to slide her leg against his, or put her hand over his thigh, and she's pretty sure those aren't first date things. She doesn't want to be too eager and make this weird. ]
I don't know why I keep expecting anything in this casino to be normal.
he's had dates here -- gotten more accustomed to the social formalities behind them. don't overdress, but make sure to impress. don't take too much initiative, but be forward -- bold. don't overdo it with the platitudes, maintain some sense of earnestness, but don't bare the wholeness of your heart either.
it's a difficult game to play, especially when it comes to people whose opinions he gives a damn about. he arrives on time, not as early as before, realizing that had made him look overeager. this time he's suited up in a much more complimentary fashion; another dress shirt, stark black with its sleeves cut off at his elbows, properly fitted and accompanied by a waist high belt and slacks. his hair is slicked back slightly, not so much that it loses the entirety of its shape but just enough that his face is more visible than it typically is.
tifa looks-- breathless, as always. more settled into herself. he doesn't say it outright, but his features soften when the bright blues of his eyes settle onto her, brisk and easy for a change. they're seated in a private booth, and the fact hits him facefirst: this is a date. there was no coming back from this. either he fucked this up tremendously or made it out in one piece. they're close. so close, he can feel the warmth of her thigh seeping into his clothing, the heat of her breath beating against him. ]
...It isn't all so bad. [ he says with a tinge of soft spoken playfulness. ] Like hell I could afford this back home.
[ there's a pause. an awkward silence before he gestures the white orchid tucked away in his dress pocket towards her. ]
...Here. [ his stomach is going to burst into butterflies, but his voice doesn't betray him, unwavering as he speaks. ] ..Made me think of you.
[ Tifa, somehow, has less experience than he does. She hasn't processed that the time she's spent with Nami or Mitsuru could count as a date. But the social rules have been ingrained in her since childhood. It's why she fussed so badly about what to wear, and why she's being so careful with her words and how much they touch.
She does notice how much more nicely he's dressed, staring a little too long with her chest tightening. She's...attracted to him. She can admit that, in this context. But there's something else too. He didn't know how to do this in Midgar, she's pretty sure, but she doesn't know. That space between them feels wider than ever. Did she misjudge him? Or had he learned this here, where their precariously crossed paths were hurtling away from each other again?
She couldn't think like that. He'd wanted to do this with her. That was all that mattered. Right?
It's easier, once they're seated. She sees that soft look in his eye and it calms her. They're still the same kids they always were. Even if it feels like, somehow, she's going to do the wrong thing and break everything they've managed to piece back together.
She's thankful for his teasing; it pulls her back to the present. ]
That makes two of us.
[ She smiles, but her throat is too tight to find more words. She needs to, though, because she knows its harder for him, and he asked her, so she should help-- ]
O-oh. [ She's staring at him, to the flower, and back to him. For a moment, it feels like this can't possibly be real, that she has to be in the throes of another dream.
But her dreams are never this detailed, and the surprise twists into a grin wide enough she ducks her head, embarrassed by her own enthusiasm as she takes it. Her heart is going wild and she's trying not to hide her face in her hands. Cloud got her a gift. He dressed up. He asked her on a date. Did he-- Had he been thinking about her--? ]
It's beautiful. Thank you. [ No pockets of her own, she tucks it behind her ear. She lifts her hand, like she's going to squeeze his thigh take his hand or something, but it falters mid gesture. She recovers by curling it into a fist, bumping him lightly on the shoulder. ] You look really nice, you know.
[One of the skills Daan hadn't really gotten around to really learning is cooking. He can make an okay sandwich, but that's not really substantial enough for two sad guys, and on top of that he does want to do something special for Cloud.
And so, he had called in a favor, and Daan eventually returns with a hot container of beef stew.]
Not sure how hungry you are, but you should probably eat something. [It's the first thing he says when he comes back, setting the pot onto the table.
He isn't sure how much Cloud will be able to taste it. Is reminding Cloud of a lost home and a lost parent even a smart idea? He genuinely isn't sure; this is territory he's unfamiliar with himself. Daan doesn't really have those kinds of associations after all, and Cloud might not even be able to entirely taste it.
...But maybe the smell will be enough. That's what he hopes.]
it’s hard, being alone — even though he’s spent so much of his life steeped in solitude. he’s gotten too used to having someone, to the comfort of daan’s presence. it’s fine. they both need the space, and he’d be back before he knew it. it was far from daan’s duty to babysit him.
when the door maneuvers open, cloud’s head jerks up. and then— the smell follows. rich, savory, umami—
he recognizes it well. it takes him to another time, long, long ago. memories of sitting at a small, wooden dinner table trickle into his consciousness. he sees her face — her smile, hears the lilt of her jovial voice, and he realizes— ]
…Daan?
[ he approaches gradually. cloud’s eyes are reminiscent of big, shining saucers, blues glittering beneath the halogen light of his room. he looks more like a kid than he does a man in this moment. ]
[ a good minute or so passes before it occurs to him-- ]
got caught up with something last month.
[ read: he was fucking tripping. how does he go about this...
another minute passes. ]
sorry.
[ not something he would normally say but-- this place has softened him, unexpectedly. he didn't think the guy was genuinely interested; people had very little reason to be. ]
didn't think you really gave a shit, honestly. seem the type to do whatever you want.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text; un: tifa lockhart
Notes: Virgin Auction - half
Funds available same day if transferred before 7pm.
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impulsively, stupidly, cloud responds immediately: ]
you don't owe me anything
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she types and deletes her message a few times. RIP not knowing about the 'user is typing' feature ]
You were in there too.
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action: date follow up
Message sent, gym and shower had, she returns to her new room. She's meaning to run down to the shops to get a dress, but there's a package on her bed with a card only marked with a diamond. She opens it, and her eyes go wide. Her dresses, from Sector 7. They shouldn't have survived. Nothing should have. Does that mean -- ?
She can't dwell on it. It's too much. But she does pull the blue one out, the one she meant to wear when they went out together. It hurts, a little, but it's nice too. One thing that didn't get taken from her. From them.
Time won't move fast enough, even as she draws out getting ready. When it is time, she feels oddly self-conscious walking through the hallways, tucking her hair behind her ear near compulsively. The dress is low enough that the scar between her breasts and the slightly mottled skin is just visible, even if the bow hides some of it. That and it's a little dated, a little short, even for her. Something she'd bought two years ago and never gotten a chance to wear.
She's so in her head, she almost doesn't notice him standing outside right away, but when she does, her face lights up, and she waves at him, almost laughing. Some part of her thought this was gone forever. Because of Sector 7, because of Nibelheim, because of this game-- ]
Cloud!
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he lays on his bed, legs kicked up, palms beneath his head. his heart judders against his rib cage, but he couldn't tell you why; he wonders what she'll wear. if she'll be happy to see him. she's just being nice -- cooperating with an old friend, trying to latch onto some semblance of normalcy here...
and he's overthinking it.
he doesn't know what to wear. he rummages through the little clothes he has. a white dress shirt and ebony slacks -- but what if that isn't enough? what if she thought he was homely, or inadequate for the occasion?
it doesn't matter, he thinks, heaving out a breath. it doesn't matter! she doesn't want him anyways. he shuffles out of his room. he's early, and the red cardinal bustles with its usual business; it distracts him just enough that he stops honing in on the possibility of her standing him up.
his head angles up, and she's here-- and for a moment, he holds his breath before quashing it. his eyes skirt her thighs, and then the contours of her hips, roving up her chest before settling on her face. she was stunning and his stomach is bursting into butterflies. cloud blinks once -- then twice. ]
...Hey. [ it comes out a bit rigidly, but his eyes are bright. ] I, uh, got a table for us.
[ a hand swivels up to rub at the back of his head: a small, sheepish gesture. his eyes are fixed onto her -- enraptured and affectionate. he doesn't have the words for it. he never does.
eventually, a waitress guides them to their table. the restaurant is limned in red light, casting jaundiced shadows against the walls. there's an ambiance about it, and it feels more romantic than it should.
they're seated now, and he goes quiet, having yet to touch his menu. ]
You... [ cloud swallows thickly. ] look nice. Really nice.
[ "don't be a creep," the voice at the back of his head coos. cloud shakes his head in response. ]
How...have things been?
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Which would be okay. He was allowed to do that. He didn't owe her anything.
But he's there, and -- oh wow, he's in a button down and slacks, and she's not sure if it's actually flattering on him or not. Somehow it looks even more like a generic uniform than his SOLDIER clothes, and it's like he recedes a little, almost like it's saying don't look at me.
But she's also so ridiculously happy that he's here and that he tried that her chest hurts with the force of her feelings. She's breathless as she watches him look her over, and her stomach does flips. Is he -- checking her out?
For a moment, the image of him naked and sweating flashes in her mind, and it's all she can do to hold her gaze steady, praying she isn't blushing. That's not fair. They weren't themselves. And whatever he's doing now, it doesn't make her feel like a piece of meat, or even the same as that night. It's gentler and more affectionate.
Friends.
She can set the pang of disappointment aside. It's not his fault she has feelings and he doesn't. That's normal. It happens all the time. This is more than she was promised, and she's going to enjoy it, because she cares about him no matter what they are. ]
Thanks. They're busier than I expected.
[ He's hard to get talking sometimes, when he's aloof like this. That's okay. She can give him his space. What she can't do is stand too close, because then she's going to start thinking about the fact that he looks really cute in a teen-boy-at-a-dance way, but also in a you-have-beautiful-shoulders way, and that's not okay. She's not making this weird.
The waitress leads them in, and Tifa doubts her choice for a moment. It is a little romantic, and that wasn't her intent but...it was still better than the other choices.
The menu gives her something to latch onto, because her hands are suddenly sweaty and she wants to stare at her feet. But when Cloud speaks, her eyes fly up like she was waiting on him this whole time. Maybe she was.
And then she's smiling, bright-eyed and girlish. She's been called beautiful so many times, but he isn't the kind of guy to just say that stuff. ]
You do too. I'm impressed.
[ She bites her lips. Was that condescending? ]
It's been...better than the first day. My room is nice. Nicer than my old apartment. And the people on our floor seem normal. It's better than--
[ She winces. She doesn't really want to talk about that, because she doesn't want him to know how bad it was, those first years, or how stupid she'd been. ]
Than when I got to Midgar, at least.
[ She bumps his foot under the table. ]
I didn't have any friends there.
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Action, End of Jan
A good, solid carving knife, at that. While she could do this somewhere private, messing it up in her own room wouldn't do. To make sure she could remember the perfection circle fully, it was better to pick a halfway hidden spot to vandalize with it. After some hunting around, she finds a nice hallway nook around the rank 5 rooms.
There's a loose rug she pulls aside and beneath it is soft wood flooring. Ideal. In no time, she has carved out a broad circle. Within it, she's digging in geometrical shapes with steady handed accuracy. For something "occult", the circle looks more mathematical in nature than magical...
She's not paying much attention to her surroundings, but the scratching sound is probably peculiar to any passing by at this hour,]
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one of the resort's esteemed employees is striding down the halls when he sees her. cloud moves quickly, shoulders stiffening, posture straightening. ]
Hey, [ he says to marina. ] someone's com--
[ the employee is there before he can finish. he arches a brow, peering over cloud's shoulder to examine the newfound carving.
"and what is all this?" ]
Don't worry about it. [ cloud's eyes flit to marina. ] We were playing a game.
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Cloud's warning gives her just enough time to stow the knife away, not wanting it to be confiscated. She just got it! This would be way too soon to lose it. Luckily, she had been blowing away any debris she carved out through the process, so there's nothing that really screams fresh about the sigil.
She immediately feigns that they just found it this way!]
Hoi, staffer! We were looking for haunted stuff. This looks pretty suspect, don't you think? [Yeah, she blames it on the hotel.
The staffer just kicks the rug back into place and says they'll... deal with it later. In the tone of someone who doesn't get paid enough at the 5th rank patrol to actually do anything about it OR further investigate what these two were actually getting up to. Marina stands and dusts off her skirt, skipping over to Cloud's side and nudging him with her hip. Her hands arms reach to loop around one of his,]
We can hunt ghosts somewhere else, let's go. [yeah, playing at Ghost Adventures, just harmless fun together in the hotel nothing to see here, staff]
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text; un: meow_wow
You busy?
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you need something?
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And then he made a very interesting suggestion, so I want help making a choice.
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Action: Date 2, Gilded Cage
She spends awhile shopping, just enjoying getting to browse, and flushing every time she catches herself picturing Cloud's reaction. It's a date, yes, but she shouldn't get ahead of herself, and it's not like he notices that stuff.
The Glided Cage is fancy, but she stays away from the full evening wear. It reminds her too much of what she was wearing the night of the auction. Instead she settles on on something a little more practical, even daring to show a little more chest -- and the scar that goes with it. Cloud's already seen her naked, so...it doesn't entirely matter. And it's nice not to have to worry about her clothes being the reason someone treats her weirdly.
So she's feeling confident and excited and just a little nervous when she shows up at the Gilded Cage a little before eight. She barely has time to smile and say hello before they're being swept away to a table.
A couple's table. In a corner, with curtains that clearly can be drawn for privacy. With a bench and no chairs, sitting nearly thigh to thigh, and handed a "for two" menu.
She's trying so hard not to turn bright red. However awkward she's feeling, he has to have it worse. But she's also trying extremely hard not to give in to the desire to slide her leg against his, or put her hand over his thigh, and she's pretty sure those aren't first date things. She doesn't want to be too eager and make this weird. ]
I don't know why I keep expecting anything in this casino to be normal.
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he's had dates here -- gotten more accustomed to the social formalities behind them. don't overdress, but make sure to impress. don't take too much initiative, but be forward -- bold. don't overdo it with the platitudes, maintain some sense of earnestness, but don't bare the wholeness of your heart either.
it's a difficult game to play, especially when it comes to people whose opinions he gives a damn about. he arrives on time, not as early as before, realizing that had made him look overeager. this time he's suited up in a much more complimentary fashion; another dress shirt, stark black with its sleeves cut off at his elbows, properly fitted and accompanied by a waist high belt and slacks. his hair is slicked back slightly, not so much that it loses the entirety of its shape but just enough that his face is more visible than it typically is.
tifa looks-- breathless, as always. more settled into herself. he doesn't say it outright, but his features soften when the bright blues of his eyes settle onto her, brisk and easy for a change. they're seated in a private booth, and the fact hits him facefirst: this is a date. there was no coming back from this. either he fucked this up tremendously or made it out in one piece. they're close. so close, he can feel the warmth of her thigh seeping into his clothing, the heat of her breath beating against him. ]
...It isn't all so bad. [ he says with a tinge of soft spoken playfulness. ] Like hell I could afford this back home.
[ there's a pause. an awkward silence before he gestures the white orchid tucked away in his dress pocket towards her. ]
...Here. [ his stomach is going to burst into butterflies, but his voice doesn't betray him, unwavering as he speaks. ] ..Made me think of you.
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She does notice how much more nicely he's dressed, staring a little too long with her chest tightening. She's...attracted to him. She can admit that, in this context. But there's something else too. He didn't know how to do this in Midgar, she's pretty sure, but she doesn't know. That space between them feels wider than ever. Did she misjudge him? Or had he learned this here, where their precariously crossed paths were hurtling away from each other again?
She couldn't think like that. He'd wanted to do this with her. That was all that mattered. Right?
It's easier, once they're seated. She sees that soft look in his eye and it calms her. They're still the same kids they always were. Even if it feels like, somehow, she's going to do the wrong thing and break everything they've managed to piece back together.
She's thankful for his teasing; it pulls her back to the present. ]
That makes two of us.
[ She smiles, but her throat is too tight to find more words. She needs to, though, because she knows its harder for him, and he asked her, so she should help-- ]
O-oh. [ She's staring at him, to the flower, and back to him. For a moment, it feels like this can't possibly be real, that she has to be in the throes of another dream.
But her dreams are never this detailed, and the surprise twists into a grin wide enough she ducks her head, embarrassed by her own enthusiasm as she takes it. Her heart is going wild and she's trying not to hide her face in her hands. Cloud got her a gift. He dressed up. He asked her on a date. Did he-- Had he been thinking about her--? ]
It's beautiful. Thank you. [ No pockets of her own, she tucks it behind her ear. She lifts her hand, like she's going to squeeze his thigh take his hand or something, but it falters mid gesture. She recovers by curling it into a fist, bumping him lightly on the shoulder. ] You look really nice, you know.
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action; idk sometime while cloud is still staying in daan's room
And so, he had called in a favor, and Daan eventually returns with a hot container of beef stew.]
Not sure how hungry you are, but you should probably eat something. [It's the first thing he says when he comes back, setting the pot onto the table.
He isn't sure how much Cloud will be able to taste it. Is reminding Cloud of a lost home and a lost parent even a smart idea? He genuinely isn't sure; this is territory he's unfamiliar with himself. Daan doesn't really have those kinds of associations after all, and Cloud might not even be able to entirely taste it.
...But maybe the smell will be enough. That's what he hopes.]
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it’s hard, being alone — even though he’s spent so much of his life steeped in solitude. he’s gotten too used to having someone,
to the comfort of daan’s presence. it’s fine. they both need the space, and he’d be back before he knew it. it was far from daan’s duty to babysit him.
when the door maneuvers open, cloud’s head jerks up. and then— the smell follows. rich, savory, umami—
he recognizes it well. it takes him to another time, long, long ago. memories of sitting at a small, wooden dinner table trickle into his consciousness. he sees her face — her smile, hears the lilt of her jovial voice, and he realizes— ]
…Daan?
[ he approaches gradually. cloud’s eyes are reminiscent of big, shining saucers, blues glittering beneath the halogen light of his room. he looks more like a kid than he does a man in this moment. ]
…Where’d you get this from?
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text | un; @speeddemon
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[ a good minute or so passes before it occurs to him-- ]
got caught up with something last month.
[ read: he was fucking tripping. how does he go about this...
another minute passes. ]
sorry.
[ not something he would normally say but-- this place has softened him, unexpectedly. he didn't think the guy was genuinely interested; people had very little reason to be. ]
didn't think you really gave a shit, honestly. seem the type to do whatever you want.
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text; @fullofsurprises
Hotstuff!!
Did you help me out with something last night?
I can't remember anything at all. What happened?
Woke up married. Gross. :<
(Whatever it was, I might have let Daan know you were involved.)
(On accident! My bad!!)
(He's so annoying.)
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i told you not to tell him
now he’s up MY ass
and you
you went to “”jail””
except it was just some cell with no security
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text; un: The Bliss-Soaked Emissary of this Night's Pleasure Eternal
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[ a beat. ]
for convenience’s sake though, let’s say yeah, it is. you need something?
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text; un: gongaga
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[ then comes a long, drawn out silence before he texts again. ]
sorry. for not being around. i've been trying sort some things out.
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