[ there's the part of cloud that wants to begrudge him, call him a naive man for this--"you barely know me. i barely know myself. why in the world would you trust me?"
but each and every syllable whittles away beneath his tongue, nowhere to be found. why? is it the casino, that compels him to accept this all encompassing warmth, the embers of connection he'd been so eager to snuff out. in a fraction of a second, cloud's features blank, unsure of how to externalize the haphazard, garbage assembly of feeling polluting his brain. he turns to roche's palm, teeth grit, eyes wrenched shut. a stupidly vulnerable position, and one he can't forfeit.
there's a slow shake of the head, but he doesn't remove his hand. nose to nose, cheek to cheek, roche's breath beats against his face and his heart clenches. ]
...I'm--
[ "afraid -- and alone, and i don't know why." he was never in his own mind, his own body, never at the right place at the right time. his hands curl against roche's shoulders for purchase, and he kisses him again, as if to compensate for his inability to verbalize the white noise in his head. ]
Someone's gonna hurt you one day, you know-- [ he says in a breath, fingers clenching. ]
You can't... just give yourself to people like that...
[ For the first time in all of his wildest dreams, Roche isn't entirely sure what to do with his hands. He keeps one at Cloud's face, thumb sweeping over his cheekbone while he gives him time to process and figure out what he wants to say. Even when Cloud moves back in to kiss him, to seize fistfuls of leather and cotton and hold tight, Roche simply lets him. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't taking the chance to savor this moment for what it was, too — intimacy was something he rarely gave himself over to despite his grand gestures and bravado. True intimacy, that is. Why?
Someone's gonna hurt you one day.
He knows Cloud doesn't mean it. Knows he doesn't mean for those words to sink into his heart and twist in a manner that's almost painful. Something in his expression softens, but it's gone just as quickly as Roche blinks. Maybe it's whatever they've got mixed in with the tobacco getting to him (a godsdamned miracle, he'd think). ]
What, did someone say I wasn't?
[ His tone stays light and there's the faintest hints of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips, but Roche doesn't laugh. He's still a person, yes, but with the way some people talk about SOLDIERs... He's not deaf. ]
Regardless, I can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt me. I don't mean it out of arrogance or naivety, more out of... I'm not sure. When you care about someone — truly care about them — hurting them ought to be the last thing on your mind. Tell me, would you ever hurt me? Obviously I don't mean in the heat of battle because frankly that'd be impossible considering how bright both of our flames burn, but... In the way that you're concerned about.
[ he says he isn't naive; cloud knows that too. that some people had the confidence to not be so predisposed to maintaining their guard every second of every hour. that some people weren't so fragile as he was -- and wouldn't fracture at a brush of the fingers.
cloud stops. his gaze drops, the shame hovering over him, the facade peeling away bit by bit. "why does that matter?" "that's a stupid question." "maybe. who knows?" a plethora of answers come to surface, but neither of them make it out of the confines of his mind. ]
...No.
[ he says that firmly. it shocks even himself. his palms are flat against roche's shoulders, fingers curling tightly in an iron grip. ]
...I don't want to do that to you.
[ ... ]
But you'd be surprised -- what people out there will do, even if they care... even if they give a shit.
[ his breath lingers against the column of roche's throat. for a moment, he visibly sizes him up, clearly absorbed in the sight of his features, engrossed in those mako eyes again. he studies the hard lines of his face, the way they soften even in the recessed light, how he hasn't quite lost himself to the behemoth that is SOLDIER yet-- ]
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but each and every syllable whittles away beneath his tongue, nowhere to be found. why? is it the casino, that compels him to accept this all encompassing warmth, the embers of connection he'd been so eager to snuff out. in a fraction of a second, cloud's features blank, unsure of how to externalize the haphazard, garbage assembly of feeling polluting his brain. he turns to roche's palm, teeth grit, eyes wrenched shut. a stupidly vulnerable position, and one he can't forfeit.
there's a slow shake of the head, but he doesn't remove his hand. nose to nose, cheek to cheek, roche's breath beats against his face and his heart clenches. ]
...I'm--
[ "afraid -- and alone, and i don't know why." he was never in his own mind, his own body, never at the right place at the right time. his hands curl against roche's shoulders for purchase, and he kisses him again, as if to compensate for his inability to verbalize the white noise in his head. ]
Someone's gonna hurt you one day, you know-- [ he says in a breath, fingers clenching. ]
You can't... just give yourself to people like that...
[ it's spoken out of concern. he knows that. ]
You're still a person.
no subject
Someone's gonna hurt you one day.
He knows Cloud doesn't mean it. Knows he doesn't mean for those words to sink into his heart and twist in a manner that's almost painful. Something in his expression softens, but it's gone just as quickly as Roche blinks. Maybe it's whatever they've got mixed in with the tobacco getting to him (a godsdamned miracle, he'd think). ]
What, did someone say I wasn't?
[ His tone stays light and there's the faintest hints of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips, but Roche doesn't laugh. He's still a person, yes, but with the way some people talk about SOLDIERs... He's not deaf. ]
Regardless, I can't imagine why anyone would want to hurt me. I don't mean it out of arrogance or naivety, more out of... I'm not sure. When you care about someone — truly care about them — hurting them ought to be the last thing on your mind. Tell me, would you ever hurt me? Obviously I don't mean in the heat of battle because frankly that'd be impossible considering how bright both of our flames burn, but... In the way that you're concerned about.
no subject
cloud stops. his gaze drops, the shame hovering over him, the facade peeling away bit by bit. "why does that matter?" "that's a stupid question." "maybe. who knows?" a plethora of answers come to surface, but neither of them make it out of the confines of his mind. ]
...No.
[ he says that firmly. it shocks even himself. his palms are flat against roche's shoulders, fingers curling tightly in an iron grip. ]
...I don't want to do that to you.
[ ... ]
But you'd be surprised -- what people out there will do, even if they care... even if they give a shit.
[ his breath lingers against the column of roche's throat. for a moment, he visibly sizes him up, clearly absorbed in the sight of his features, engrossed in those mako eyes again. he studies the hard lines of his face, the way they soften even in the recessed light, how he hasn't quite lost himself to the behemoth that is SOLDIER yet-- ]
...Plenty of people have suffered because of me.
[ ... ]
I'm... I'm not stupid enough to deny that.