Disclaimer: I don't own Square Enix or Christina Aguilera.

Summary: just some fluff. Rated K+.

Infatuation

"In the silence his heartbeat is music to me"

…

A soft sound leaves her throat and her heart flutters in her heaving chest. Her eyes wide, she stares at their intertwined fingers, feeling a mixture of intense happiness and strong nerves-induced nausea. Her palms are sweaty, and she hopes against all hope that he doesn't feel it. If he does, he doesn't say anything, he just continues to hold her hand.

They just ran for nearly an hour from a rather large colony of fiends, and somewhere along the road her hand got caught in his. She's still not entirely sure how it happened, and only now that she's not in a severe state of panic anymore does she realise that he's still holding her hand. And he doesn't seem to feel the need to let go.

She looks up at him to catch him watching her, and he doesn't look away when she does. A blush creeps on her cheeks, dying her skin a nice shade of red. Her lips curl in a shy smile, her green eyes sparkling like diamonds in the light of the full moon.

It's so quiet, she can hear her heart pound madly in her ears, as well as his beating calmly, which she thinks is slightly unfair. However, the rhythmical thump thump is quickly making her lose control over her mind, as it keeps yelling at her to say something funny and interesting to keep him looking at her forever.

"That was, uhm… quite a run, huh?", she comments breathlessly, and she mentally slaps herself for its sheer lameness. She feels her face burn in embarrassment.

He smiles, though. A small, meaningful smile, that she recognises as the smiles he sends only at her. The familiar flock of butterflies flap their wings uncomfortably in her belly.

She looks away quickly. Her mouth is suddenly dry and she has trouble swallowing, and she becomes once again very aware of their intertwined fingers. She wouldn't be surprised if her heart exploded.

"Rikku.", he says quietly, his voice gruff and not at all breathless like hers, as he lifts up her chin with his free hand. Her skin tingles where he touches her, making her shiver and bite her lip in a feeble attempt to hold back a tiny sigh.

Her eyes widen, he leans downs, rapidly yet achingly slowly closing distance between them, his hand sliding to rest in her hair, his fingers tangling in her soft golden tresses.

When his lips touch hers, she involuntarily tightens her hold on his hand as her knees become oddly weak and disobedient. The first thing she thinks when she collapses against his body is that their bodies fit just as good together as their hands.

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