FFXIII: Peace at Last

Not in a million years would Hope have expected his dreams to actually come true. As a l'Cie, he knew better than to act on his impulses. As a minor, he knew it would be wrong of him anyway.

Three years passed after Cocoon came to rest in Fang and Vanille's crystal sacrifice. He was freed from the bondage asserted by the brand on his wrist. And all it took to get the one other thing he wanted was a few words.

Hope told Lightning how he felt about her when he was seventeen.

He didn't expect her to share his affections.

But he had no complaints.

The innocence in their relationship had only recently begun to give way to passion. Hope had begun spending his weekends with Lightning, often spending the nights at her house. She'd shown him a more timid side of herself – a side that resembled Serah to an extent. The crimson that had splashed across her cheeks when she pulled him off the couch and up to her bedroom wasn't something Hope could account to the sweltering New Bodhum heat.

Every night they lay in the darkness of Lightning's bedroom, Hope couldn't help the overwhelming joy that washed over him. To think that the woman who had once been the one person he feared the most was now the only person he could ever see himself loving was still a novel idea. His heart skipped beats whenever he thought about it. Just think – Lightning Farron was his girlfriend. No, she was more than a girlfriend. 'Girlfriend' didn't seem to do his former mentor justice. There was no backing out of their relationship nor any desire to do so. There was commitment even in the absence of legality. Hope doubted that even Snow and Serah, as clearly dedicated as they were, could have shared the kind of relationship that he did with Lightning. Somewhere out there, Hope knew there was a word to describe them. If not, he mused, feelings would suffice.

Lightning. It flashes bright and fades away. Destroys in its inability to protect. Lightning, just like her namesake, brightened Hope's world, but he knew her light would never fade. She'd protected much more than she would give herself credit for. Anymore, Hope wondered if she ever really fit into her adopted name the way she said she did. She continued to protect. Her influence – her light – refused to die. But then Hope remembered – lightning kindled fires. Slow, tame blazes that could quickly grow into raging wildland infernos. Lightning had kindled the fire in his heart when he was only fourteen, and without knowing it, she'd fed and nurtured it over the years until it spilled over, consuming both of them. The fire they shared was what led them to Lightning's bedroom several weeks before Hope turned eighteen – with more than heated kisses and pure cuddling in mind.

It wasn't often Hope got to see Lightning sleep. He had a tendency to fall asleep before she did – the result of her discovery of a bundle of nerves behind his ears that sent him straight to sleep. Tonight, however, was an exception.

Hope's modesty had a tendency to get the best of him. In spite of his knowledge of Lightning's current living conditions – completely alone in her beachfront house – he couldn't help the shyness that overcame him when he woke up naked beside an equally naked Lightning. He smiled when he saw that he'd finally woken up before she had – only to look at the glowing display of the clock on her nightstand to see that three am had yet to roll around. Hope pulled on his discarded boxers and turned back to look at Lightning, who slumbered peacefully with her back to him, the blankets pulled up to her shoulders as she curled around herself. Hope nearly succumbed to the urge to brush the now-wild, silken pink strands of hair away from her face to kiss her cheek, but when he got a glimpse of her face under the tangled mess crowning her head, he  thought better of it. Her cheeks were still flushed pink, and he noticed with his own tinted cheeks that one of her hands ran over every mark he'd left on her neck and shoulders. The bites peppering her body mirrored his own, and Hope touched the ones that he remembered had brought him the most pleasure, shivers coursing through him.

Content to let her sleep – for now – Hope stood and walked to the dresser, quietly pulling a drawer open and retrieving a pair of pajama pants from its confines. He slid them on over his boxers before running his hands through his hair and making his way down to the kitchen. He had only recently learned that it was alright for him to forgo a shirt at least in Lightning's house – especially now that he had some muscle to show off. That would teach Snow to tease him about how scrawny he was.

While downing a glass of water, Hope became aware of the aches plaguing him. He tried not to dwell on what action may have led to which ache. He DID console himself by tying Lightning's powerful legs to the sharp pains on the outside of each hip. The ache inside he could guess too, but in his residual naiveté, he refused to think about it.

One thing crossed his mind and lingered.

If I hurt this much, Lightning's probably going to hate me when she wakes up.

Goosebumps rose on his arms at the thought. Maybe his inexperience wasn't such a bad thing, after all. He had been terrified of hurting her, even when she demanded he move harder, faster. He'd been convinced he was hurting her, but grew more afraid of facing her wrath if he didn't satisfy her.

Maybe he should be more afraid of her hating him for his incompetence.

Hope began making his way back up to the bedroom, dread building in his stomach. What if she really did end up hating him for something?

His worries melted when he opened the door and saw that she'd invaded the pocket of warmth he'd left behind. One arm hung off the edge of the bed while her head rested on the other, her pale skin taking on an ethereal glow in the moonlight filtering through the bedroom window.

Hope slunk to her bedside, sinking to his knees and resting his elbows on the bed. For a seasoned soldier and former l'Cie, the innocence she radiated made his heart race. To think that such an amazing woman was his sent the butterflies in his stomach into a frenzy.

If all he had left was Lightning, Hope couldn't have been able to complain. She was love, and she was all he needed.

"I love you, Light," he whispered, lacing her fingers between his as he rested his head on his arm, still content to watch her sleep. Warmth filled his chest when she squeezed his hand, her long black lashes parting to reveal her sparkling eyes, glacial blue and sleepy. A smile turned up half of her mouth as she drifted back into a peaceful sleep.

"I love you, too."