i was driveby-ing this post and saw this prompt and had a whole Feeling about it so here you go!! ♥ (i'll probably put this on ao3 later when i think of an actual title.)
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It's safe.
He's been nothing but a gentleman from the moment they got here, these ten small years into the future that he's had to slowly walk by himself, her the last one to leave; smiling when she talks, offering his hand to help her up. He's still the same. Still thoughtful, still harbouring a burden that isn't the one she passed to him, but it is what's led both of them here.
She knows how hard having to be strong in defiance of fate is.
It's like no time has passed at all, and for her, it hasn't. But she was alone when she left, and he's been entirely alone since.
It's safe, and it's familiar, Serah supposes. Because he doesn't press her, doesn't ask. They're both supposed to be asleep but they're not, and distantly she thinks of Snow, because it's the same level of attentiveness with which Hope regards this kiss, that, the next. All quiet. Maybe he's thinking of Alyssa, his assistant. Maybe he's thinking of her sister. Maybe he's just thinking of only her, that it's come to this – and that here, now, they can both pretend that the twisting knife isn't there.
It's just another meeting, another departure. The loneliness is inevitable. Come morning they likely won't speak of this, and that's to assume they'll say anything at all as she kisses him a little more fiercely, sincerely, because he's real and not gone, and his fingers lace securely between hers and she sniffs.
"We can stop if you like," Hope says softly. Wanting to spare her it, as they all always have. It shatters any illusion she has, brings the reality crashing back. That if this ends it'll be just another night spent worrying: her journey's barely started, but she has so much to carry. They both do.
She could talk to Noel, who lived at the end of days. He could talk to Alyssa, who dreams her own death.
But they don't understand. Not like they do. Not after everything the seven of them went through, now just two.
"No," Serah says. Gentle, breaking. "I don't want to be alone."
His smile is bare. Neither does he.
She's here now. And this time, as he kisses her, he's Hope.
serah/hope, loneliness, g-ish (angst)
-
It's safe.
He's been nothing but a gentleman from the moment they got here, these ten small years into the future that he's had to slowly walk by himself, her the last one to leave; smiling when she talks, offering his hand to help her up. He's still the same. Still thoughtful, still harbouring a burden that isn't the one she passed to him, but it is what's led both of them here.
She knows how hard having to be strong in defiance of fate is.
It's like no time has passed at all, and for her, it hasn't. But she was alone when she left, and he's been entirely alone since.
It's safe, and it's familiar, Serah supposes. Because he doesn't press her, doesn't ask. They're both supposed to be asleep but they're not, and distantly she thinks of Snow, because it's the same level of attentiveness with which Hope regards this kiss, that, the next. All quiet. Maybe he's thinking of Alyssa, his assistant. Maybe he's thinking of her sister. Maybe he's just thinking of only her, that it's come to this – and that here, now, they can both pretend that the twisting knife isn't there.
It's just another meeting, another departure. The loneliness is inevitable. Come morning they likely won't speak of this, and that's to assume they'll say anything at all as she kisses him a little more fiercely, sincerely, because he's real and not gone, and his fingers lace securely between hers and she sniffs.
"We can stop if you like," Hope says softly. Wanting to spare her it, as they all always have. It shatters any illusion she has, brings the reality crashing back. That if this ends it'll be just another night spent worrying: her journey's barely started, but she has so much to carry. They both do.
She could talk to Noel, who lived at the end of days. He could talk to Alyssa, who dreams her own death.
But they don't understand. Not like they do. Not after everything the seven of them went through, now just two.
"No," Serah says. Gentle, breaking. "I don't want to be alone."
His smile is bare. Neither does he.
She's here now. And this time, as he kisses her, he's Hope.