[it's not always when the world isn't on fire, in some kind of crisis, or needing saving from one of the many leftover machinations of shinra. it's not always—either—when cloud strife is not on the road on delivery-duty, having a bad day with his guilt and shame, or otherwise occuppied saving the world from another near-catastrophe.]
[days like these hold their weight in hold; several of these days 'off' in a row is a blessing that knows no bounds. cloud has been better about it all—about letting go, a bit, of zack and aerith, of sephiroth. all that shame, all that guilt, all that negativity that kept him from, well, being himself. he wasn't the only one who lost someone, and every day feels like a chance to make up for it. cloud knows that he's lucky to have his friends at his side; to have tifa, ever patient; denzel and marlene, a small family of his own. growing up is hard, knowing what he knows, but every day he feels a little more prepared for it.]
[like on this day, for once he awakens on the same bed as tifa, an arm curling around her middle as the sun but peeks through the curtains, pulling her closer to him. his desires aren't uncertain even if they haven't openly spoken about what it means, where it will lead them to next, or if it needs a label at all. what cloud knows is that commitment is hard, but he's... also hard? and it would be nice if the kisses that he presses to tifa's neck, her jawline, and just under her ear while his hips rub against her ass would lead to something a little more along the lines of 'being a grown up'...]
Tifa! Denzel is using all the eggs!
I'm not!
Are so!
[and then there's that, the reminder that, yeah, they got something of a family of their own.]
...
[with a sigh, cloud knows that he hasn't got a chance on occupying tifa early in the morning when breakfast is in the hands of two pre-teens.]
Should've taken Yuffie up on that babysitting gig.
[he raises himself on one arm, looking down at tifa. the muffled sound of childish arguing muffled a little by the door and the fact that it's all happening downstairs. he leans down, presses a kiss to her lips, an apology of sorts.]
ac-verse
[days like these hold their weight in hold; several of these days 'off' in a row is a blessing that knows no bounds. cloud has been better about it all—about letting go, a bit, of zack and aerith, of sephiroth. all that shame, all that guilt, all that negativity that kept him from, well, being himself. he wasn't the only one who lost someone, and every day feels like a chance to make up for it. cloud knows that he's lucky to have his friends at his side; to have tifa, ever patient; denzel and marlene, a small family of his own. growing up is hard, knowing what he knows, but every day he feels a little more prepared for it.]
[like on this day, for once he awakens on the same bed as tifa, an arm curling around her middle as the sun but peeks through the curtains, pulling her closer to him. his desires aren't uncertain even if they haven't openly spoken about what it means, where it will lead them to next, or if it needs a label at all. what cloud knows is that commitment is hard, but he's... also hard? and it would be nice if the kisses that he presses to tifa's neck, her jawline, and just under her ear while his hips rub against her ass would lead to something a little more along the lines of 'being a grown up'...]
Tifa! Denzel is using all the eggs!
I'm not!
Are so!
[and then there's that, the reminder that, yeah, they got something of a family of their own.]
...
[with a sigh, cloud knows that he hasn't got a chance on occupying tifa early in the morning when breakfast is in the hands of two pre-teens.]
Should've taken Yuffie up on that babysitting gig.
[he raises himself on one arm, looking down at tifa. the muffled sound of childish arguing muffled a little by the door and the fact that it's all happening downstairs. he leans down, presses a kiss to her lips, an apology of sorts.]
Mornin'.