Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XIII, or any of the places, characters and events mentioned therein; all credit goes towards Square Enix and its affiliates.

Author's Note: Well, this is one of my first attempts at writing in First Person as the main body of a story; let alone for Fang. I tend to gravitate more towards Lightning, but I digress. I'd enjoy some feedback on how I did with the perspective, if anyone would care to give it. Anyhow, let's get on with the story!

Secondary Note: I have no definite plans for this story, and I don't go to great lengths to plot out my works. I "go with the flow" and I rarely plan ahead of the chapter; updates may be few and far between, but I'll try and reduce the wait as much as I can. Thanks, again.

Burning the Days

Afterglow

It was amazing that someone could transition from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows, all in the space of a few seconds. I suppose that's always what our relationship was like, Lightning and I, that is. One moment we could be spending a lovely, romantic night together and the next we could be at each others throats, arguing and bickering over some trivial thing. Our relationship was like a ticking bomb; you never knew when it was going to go off, but you knew it was coming. I kept things exciting, I suppose.

However, looking at the kind of relationship Serah and Snow shared, I don't think Lightning and I could ever be like that; the two were hopeless romantics in every sense, they depended heavily on each other and shared practically everything. Between my sometimes insatiable need for freedom and the heavy, indifferent wall Lightning built around herself, it was pretty obvious that we were never made for that kind of co-dependence—we had both been raised to fend for ourselves, and that was a hard lesson to forget. Still, I loved what I had with Light for the spontaneity of it all; not knowing what would happen in the foreseeable future, we clung to each day like it was the last. Lightning, because she was afraid of a repeat of her last relationship, and myself because you never quite knew what was going on inside my girlfriend's head, both an annoying and a beloved factor in my eyes. Heh, trust Lightning to turn me into a cynic, and a mushy one at that; she had a way of changing people, whether she realized it or not.

Still, no matter what would happen in the future, whether we remained together or not, I was certain of one thing. I, Oerba Yun Fang, was in love with the insufferable, stoic Guardian Corps Lieutenant, Lightning Farron—and that…that wasn't about to change.

Looking down on her sleeping face, I smile softly to myself. She's beautiful like this, so unguarded by her waking inhibitions and emotions. Her peaceful features are illuminated softly by the light leaking through the curtains; the subtle curl of her lips, the exotic fringe that flops over her forehead, and her creamy complexion that would never change, no matter how much time she spent in the sun.

I know, without a doubt, it won't be long now until she awakens. A true soldier, born and bred, Lightning wakes up at almost the exact same time each day, always an hour or so after I have. Propping my head up on my arm, my lips curl into a smile. This day was beginning right on track, as any other, under my watchful eye. I've spent many morning afters just watching her sleep, as I do now. I don't know what it was about her, but I never got tired of looking at her. I likened her to a drug, as inconceivable as the notion may have been to some; just being with her, talking to her, touching her, it was an addiction I could never get enough of.

Right on cue, she moans.

"Fang?" he voice is groggy, clouded with sleep.

I hook my arm around her middle, drawing her warm body tightly against my own. I lean down to toy with the lobe of her ear, gracing it with a few restrained nips. "Good morning, Sunshine."

Lightning leans into my gentle teasing, her eyes at half-mast. Again, the morning is perfectly on track. Her brightly colored hair falls away from her neck as she shifts, revealing the pale expanse of her neck. Moving lower, I place a few soft kisses along the ivory flesh, tongue coming into play occasionally. Lightning moans, a breathless, whimpering sound that lets me know she's enjoying the treatment.

"Morning," she replies quietly.

It doesn't take Lightning long to awaken fully, a true testament to her military lifestyle, and to that effect, she's a light sleeper, too. I remember during our time as l'Cie, seeing her wake quicker than her namesake, gunblade at the ready, prepared to take on a monster we hadn't even heard yet; this was why she often handled guard duty. Still, my ministrations probably helped.

I ease up on my attack as she pushes herself upwards with her elbow. I rise with her, my arm still tangled around her middle, just below the supple curve of her chest. I rest my head on her shoulder, smiling.

"What time is it?"

I thread my fingers through her silky hair, which is mussed from sleep and other, more explicit, activities. It looked cute, her hair sticking up at all sorts of crazy, probably impossible, angles. "A little after eight thirty," I reply, straightening out the mess. "You don't want to rest more? It's only been a couple of hours."

Last night had been a bit of a crazy night, even for our standards. By the time we collapsed back in bed, finally spent, it was a little shy of five o'clock in the morning. I had barely managed to curl my naked body around Light's before I fell asleep, lured by the warmth of skin on skin. Though I wasn't necessarily tired, I could tell she still was—not really a good thing. Something I had learned about Lightning, when she was running low on sleep she became irritable, and that was different to her usual easily-annoyed attitude. The difference manifested in the fact that her trigger finger was extra twitchy, and violence always seemed like a great answer to a problem.

From what she had told me, before she became a l'Cie, Lightning hadn't been sleeping. The guilt of fighting with her sister, along with letting her get kidnapped, had resulted in sleepless nights. Snow had been bruised for days as a result, and I saw the results first hand when I met him. Sunshine had a mean left hook, and a downright fearsome right one.

"No, I'm fine."

I allowed my hand to slip downwards, trailing along the soldier's ribs and down to her stomach. Gently caressing and kneading the flesh, I relished in the way Lightning leaned into me, positively asking to be ravaged. Sometimes, she made it so easy. "You sure?"

"Absolutely," Lightning breathed, leaning back to initiate a kiss.

Our liplock was brief and chaste, Light's plush lips pressing softly against my own. I didn't try to deepen the kiss any, happily accepting the affectionate display. Kissing, of any kind, was one of my favorite activities, and Light knew it; she often used it to her advantage, too.

When we broke apart, I grinned as I caught the curling of her lips subtly upwards. That she was happy this early in the morning was good. It's not like she hated morning, she was just a little dull during those hours—she usually joined the land of the living at around ten.

"You hungry?" I asked, my hands trailing through her hair again. Petting her was like petting a cat, all soft and content to be touched; she also purred and mewled like one, though that usually took a bit of prompting. Her hair was one of her weak points.

"A little," she replies honestly, eyes closing.

"I'm not surprised," I laughed. "Maker knows, you barely ate anything last night."

Lightning shakes her head a little, crossing her arms. She opened her eyes, shaking away my hand. "And whose fault is that? If I remember correctly, whose idea was it to skip the rest of dinner?"

"Point." I concede, rolling my eyes. "But regardless, you barely eat as it is."

"I eat enough."

"Whatever you want to believe, Light." I shake my head. "So, how about that breakfast?"

Lightning smiles, nothing more than a curl of her lips.

"Yeah, breakfast sounds good."