[Does Cloud have any idea how healing he is to be around? He probably doesn't. Probably doesn't get told enough. Mental note to work on that.
He thinks on those words. Gotta be here. He sure tries to be. Physically, he's moved in, has been for months and months. (The other house is collecting dust. His smoker's in the yard. Why did he ever think any of them would need space?) He loves seeing them every single day, bumping into them as they cross paths in the hall, catching quick lazy kisses in the kitchen while someone's cleaning or cooking, stealing bites of each others' foods or picking up a towel to dry while someone washes. The sunny smiles and warm looks when eyes meet. He loves it. He loves it.
Mentally, emotionally, he never wants to leave their sides for long. Nothing gives him as much joy as waking up with them, hearing their voices throughout the house, the little hum Aerith utters when she gardens or the huff of Cloud's breath when he trains nearby. The way they each look at him in turn. The way he is loved, every single day, and he can see it, he can feel it.
Cloud's hands on him are warm, the arms around him are so protective and all-encompassing. The sound of his voice as he says those words is so beautiful.]
I love you, [He whispers back. How can he not? How could he ever not?] I'm here. I'll be here. I promise.
[He may be dead, but he's alive. Sharon can be mad if she wants, but he can be grateful for this.]
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He thinks on those words. Gotta be here. He sure tries to be. Physically, he's moved in, has been for months and months. (The other house is collecting dust. His smoker's in the yard. Why did he ever think any of them would need space?) He loves seeing them every single day, bumping into them as they cross paths in the hall, catching quick lazy kisses in the kitchen while someone's cleaning or cooking, stealing bites of each others' foods or picking up a towel to dry while someone washes. The sunny smiles and warm looks when eyes meet. He loves it. He loves it.
Mentally, emotionally, he never wants to leave their sides for long. Nothing gives him as much joy as waking up with them, hearing their voices throughout the house, the little hum Aerith utters when she gardens or the huff of Cloud's breath when he trains nearby. The way they each look at him in turn. The way he is loved, every single day, and he can see it, he can feel it.
Cloud's hands on him are warm, the arms around him are so protective and all-encompassing. The sound of his voice as he says those words is so beautiful.]
I love you, [He whispers back. How can he not? How could he ever not?] I'm here. I'll be here. I promise.
[He may be dead, but he's alive. Sharon can be mad if she wants, but he can be grateful for this.]