thelast-cetra:

exnatura-archive:

         _{The movement was fast, in and out as quick as could be, a portal opening and closing in the blink of an eye. In hindsight Naminé would wonder if that was truly the best way to handle such a situation, since suddenly leaving something behind could be seen as rather odd, but in the moment she did not want to be seen. Not that time.}

                                    _{She had so little time to begin with, before the day was done.}

                           _{Left unassuming on a table was a flower, beautiful and foreign with white and purple petals, a white ribbon tied around its stem on top of a piece of paper with a painting of a meadow on it.}

                  _{No wrapping or embellishments outside of the ribbon, no box or brightly colored paper. It was painfully simple but left specifically for Aerith either way, and there was a small note besides it, written as neatly as she could handle.}

         _Aerith,

                  _{You are truly sweet. Thank you, for the jacket and for the offer to let me stay whenever I may need to, and for your kindness. All of it together is too much, but I appreciate it nonetheless.}

                           _{I do not want to burden you. That is the last thing that I want to do, and I could never repay you. I know this gift isn’t very much, and I apologize for that, but I knew that I had to get you something.}

                                    _{Thank you, again, and perhaps we’ll see each other once more.}

                                             _—Naminé

^{Though the night has not yet spilled into a new day, it has dripped long enough that Aerith can no longer hold her body up. She is weighed down by the hours, and her respite comes in the form of her kitchen table, cheek pressed flat against its surface.}

^{With arms curled beneath the cascade of chestnut curls and with lashes interlocked, Aerith allows the beginnings of sleep to carry her away. Naminé enters. She leaves. Her presence slips through the air like a half-formed sentence, and the brief, unaware hostess takes no note. She offers no refreshments. Asks no pleasantries.} 

^{There is a belated snore offered in hello, but the girl is gone before it crescendos in volume.}

^{The flower, though, and its note will not remain unnoticed for long. When the sky awakens, so will Aerith. She will not balk at the idea of a nightly intruder. She will not check the locks on her doors and windows.}

^{Perhaps she might curl the pads of her fingers, brushing petals with a feathery touch just to see if they are as soft as they appear.}

^{She will fold the note into fours, its words hanging on the tip of her tongue, preparing for an encore. It is forward to invite a stranger so completely into her heart, Aerith will admit for the second time, but she will not reconsider her choices. Instead she will keep eye and ear out for a girl in white.}

    ^{Instead she will keep an extra blanket on hand— an extra pillow and mug— just in case another night folds into day and someone needs use of her couch..}