Enchanted

Clorith. (: first in many years after my hiatus. Enjoy.

Cloud never gives in to personal touches or weaknesses. Then there's Aerith. At 3 in the morning, knocking on his door, clad in nothing but sheer fabric. [clorith]

IN-GAME. (: location vague, but I've pinpointed Costa de Sol, if you like that idea. Otherwise it's up to your imagination as you please. The wonders of fanfiction. And I take to spelling Aerith more so than Aeris. Sorry if it's a pet peeve of mine.

Cloud spent years perfecting the craft of being stoic.

When he was younger, he found it hard to frown when people treated him nice. Years later, this was less a problem. He had mastered the art of masquerading that impersonal, aloof façade that maintained his face of pride to those around him. He learnt overtime how to keep that impenetrable, unbreakable stare into those Mako-colored eyes no matter what he was faced with, what circumstances he was pushed into.

Just keep the pride going, the act strong.

It was a doctrine he had ingrained and programmed into his brain, until he forgot the liberty to smile, to fake anything on his facial expression other than that same pursed, set lips. It was easy, once you got the hang of it. Like they said, practice makes perfect, and he had spent much of his adolescent years watching Sephiroth do the exact same thing. Emulating his hero was a priority second to none.

That was why, when she came knocking on his door at 3 in the morning, clad in nothing but a light ivory sheer gown that made her seem almost luminescent as the moonlight reflected off her small, tiny frame, it made no sense why his years of training and mastery failed him, and exposed him to the one vulnerability he could not ever, ever comprehend.

It was not just women that was the problem. He could never get how Sephiroth and his SOLDIER comrades, especially Zack, was so charming and charismatic when it came to the opposite gender.

Then again, maybe it was just this one.

When she stood in the doorway, gaze set on him, he was sure it was that exact moment his ego and all those years he took perfecting his so-called craft over giving in nothing but one set expression on his facial features, lost it, and was obsolete; forgotten.

He was pretty sure he looked stupid, gawking at her.

My god.

This was even worse than the first time years back then when he still harbored a crush on Tifa and had caught the raven-haired girl changing in his bedroom unintentionally knowing he would be back home earlier than expected.

If he had it bad then, he had no idea what this was.

On a scale of ten, with ten being looking extremely stupid, he scored a perfect ten, he was sure.

Nobody taught him how to deal with this.

Henceforth, his stupidity in looking like a gulping, performing guppy as she stood innocently staring at him.

"Are you going to let me in? Or are you just going to let me stay here cold and chilly in a night like this?"

He hadn't even mean it. But his eyes were already cast down at her face, down, down, lower…onto her cleavage where her luscious curves were unmistakably peeking through that sheer pastel fabric.

Cloud wasn't even aware he was capable of feeling any emotion other than…nothing. Wasn't even aware he had that humane ability, equipped with the sense, to blush. But that was what he was doing now. He was furiously red, comparatively similar to any tomato from the fruit stores of Costal De Sol where the group was currently rooming over for the night to rest up before they set off the next morning.

"What are you doing here, Aerith?" He blurted out.

What a dumb question, moron. What else can she be doing here?

"Yuffie accidentally locked me out of our room," Aerith admitted sheepishly, cocking her head to a side, "I went to take a short walk at the beach an hour ago, and I came back…I don't think she realized, but I didn't want to wake her."

"…And," Cloud couldn't help it but scowl, "…You'd think I'm awake?"

Aerith didn't look hurt. She knew Cloud too well. He was too good at feigning harsh, cold emotions that when he wasn't really feeling that…well, it was pretty easy to tell.

And Cloud didn't know why he was being so harsh, or rude. He seldom was, especially to the girls on his team. Tifa, Yuffie, Aerith – all of them. He treated them like a gentleman, just like he would to any of his comrade, but because he was so careful and guarded with girls, he always made sure he kept a safe distance from everyone of them.

But Aerith was threading on dangerous territory; into his personal space and privacy. She was testing his…his goddamn hormones.

Which he didn't even know existed. Until today. Apparently.

Especially when she looked like she wasn't even wearing a bra beneath. And the way the moonlight shone beneath her gown to illuminate her thin, smooth legs that contrasted with the darkness cloaking around her. Her silhouette was like a halo in the night, and Cloud wasn't exaggerating.

He took in a breath. Reminded himself to breathe.

"Come in." He gestured.

Worst decision he ever made in his life.

The moment she neared him and stepped into his room, and sat on his bed, his senses flared. Everything went into overdrive, his mind whirled, his radar was on full alert.

His blood churned. His stomach clenched.

God, how would Sephiroth deal with this? How!

He did the only rational thing. He turned his gaze away. Something in him drove him and propelled him to make his way towards her. Something animalistic, irrational, insane. To…to go up to her…and do something. Anything. To just close this distance that was paining him, but yet still—

"I'm just going to sleep on the couch for tonight, okay, Cloud? You can have the bed—"

"No—" He quickly spun around. A gentleman, as always. "Aerith, get up. Go to my bed. I'll take the couch."

A mistake, to go up to her, to touch her.

Her closeness scared him. Her stray strands of hair tickled his nose. She smelt…smelt like strawberry and everything sweet. It was like incense that dazed his senses. He couldn't think.

They were just caught in the moment like that -

(And did she really had to smile up at him like that? When he was sure he looked stupid as hell with his mouth open, and all that goddamn years of training that one expression to sit on his feet being useless and pointless; down the drain, just like that, with just one touch of hers.)

His fingers gripped, not harshly, around her tiny wrist, and through some force of motion, she had neared him so much, her fingers were against his abdomen muscles, palm pressed gently against his chest.

Breathe, Cloud, breathe. Inhale, exhale.

The hell, what would Sephiroth do? Quick, what would any sane man would do in his space. Then again, he lost all sense of sanity the moment she stepped into his room like that.

He stopped breathing.

"Aerith—" He sucked in his breath. He felt like her touch was burning, scorching holes in his chest. "Go to my bed."

It sounded…wrong. It came out so much like an invitation..for something else, that he was blushing ten folds harder than ever. He thanked whatever random deity above that it was dark enough to hide the crazy pink hues on his cheeks that was so unlike the almighty Cloud Strife façade he had channeled and kept up to throughout the years. If anyone knew how easily his insides could turn into mush when it came to women (no, just her), they would laugh.

"Okay." Her eyes was smiling.

She didn't let him go. Didn't stop touching him.

The worse part was, he couldn't find himself letting her go either.

They were too close for his comfort. And he hadn't even known, or researched, or rehearsed, or practised any sort of moves when it came to the female species. Hadn't even had time to learn, or saw any warning signs that told him this was coming.

He had to improvise; think on the spot, be spontaneous. And he sucked at things like that when it came to instincts and trusting his guts on the spot.

Nothing was coherent to him now. He could barely think.

He could feel her pulse through her night gown.

Shit, she was so pretty.

"Aerith—"

"Ssssh." She placed a soft finger to his lips to shush him.

He quietened.

Swore he could hear her pulse racing. Again.

No wait, it was his.

Shit.

All SOLDIER masquerade, all strength, all ego, all pride, vanished. Just like that.

Who was this woman? And what was she doing to him? It wasn't fair.

No time spent with Tifa ever prepared him for this array of emotions. His face was a classic expression of confusion, dazzelement, entrancement, fascination, curiosity and...And he hadn't even had time to get used to feeling this much when it came to himself, much less another person. He wasn't even aware he could feel anything outside his spectrum of somber, melancholic, angry, distressed, negative emotions.

"It's fine. I'll take your bed then. No arguing. Just one night. Okay?"

With that, she let go of him, for his bed.

He felt childish that he felt…angry. Angry and jealous. And discreetly, subconsciously infuriated that she had chosen his bed over him. His bed. Of all things, he was envious of an inanimate furniture. Childish like a young schoolboy who was mourning his loss when the woman he was entirely smitten with had abandoned him to his loneliness again. Embarrassed, and angry with himself for feeling like this, Cloud made for the couch, and threw himself on it, crushing the pillow to his ears and ensuring he shut everything out; her out, and forgot all of this stupid…stupid emotions, rush of crazy insane, irrational feelings, that was churning out of his heart, pouring incessantly…

He hadn't felt this much since Sephiroth burnt Nibelheim. And it was a different type of feeling that was punctuating his chest and leaving a hole there.

"Night, Cloud." He could hear her a distance away.

He mumbled something under his breath, determined to shut her out still. If he could not hear her, could not see her, he would forget her presence and the fact that she was the source of his current distress and awkwardness right now.

"I'm sorry to intrude on you like that," She was still talking, "I'll make up to you some day…"

Still talking…God, don't these women ever shut up?

Next time, he was going to save the world with an all-male team. Damn female and their weird psyches.

He could barely hear her now, but he knew it was going to be a sleepless night.

How was it that he had roomed with Tifa and even Yuffie before, and slept like a baby, and then Aerith had to barge in at three in the morning like that, and his senses were forever changed, on red alert?

Minutes slipped by, and he dared himself to peek out under the cushion, and stare at the lone silhouette tangled in between his bed sheets.

Something in him caused him to groan. That same animalistic, foreign feeling again to do something…to close this distance. To go up to her and take her into his arms and, just, just, something.

Did she really have to look so gorgeous, so vulnerable, so fragile, in the moonlight like that? Like she was made of porcelain. God, like she was unreal.

The way her arms were enveloped around the sheets as she laid on his bed, her hair falling freely around the pillow, disheveled and unkempt like caressing waterfalls, her crescent eyelids reflecting off the moonlight, her lips parted slightly as she snored ever so softly…

And occasionally watching her yawn and stretch her limbs, and exposing her nude creamy arms snaked around the sheets, how unintentionally she would drape the sheets in a strategic way around her small frame to reveal her sheer gown clad around her beautiful figure –

She was perfectly sculpted. Like an angel.

Cloud groaned. Something in him was churning again. His pulse, his blood, everything was too much. It was getting so hot around here.

But he couldn't take his eyes off her.

Fists clenched, he knew he had to do something, or he would be that cowardly man who would run away in situations like that that dealt with the opposite sex. He would never live it down as someone who emulated Sephiroth. And Sephiroth would never be this bad at women. Then again he was sure nobody was bad when it came to women when it boiled down to just him.

With three strides, he literally tossed himself onto his bed, not caring if he woke her up, or surprised her from sleep.

He didn't even care.

He just laid there, closed the distance, came behind her small frame, and enveloped her into his arms, and tucked his head onto her shoulder, and closed his eyes.

Damn it all. Damn hormones. Damn expectations. Damn the years of perfecting some so called crafted coldness on his face. Or playing some perfect soldier that had no emotions whatsoever.

He was Cloud Strife. And he was human.

And there was an angel in his arms he knew he couldn't let go of tonight.

He knew he had awaken her, because he could hear her murmur something.

But he knew she was still in peace, because he picked up a slight, "'Night, Cloud."

…Like she had expected this, and didn't mind, at all.

He couldn't believe how perfect this felt – the way their bodies fit like that, in spooning position, as his arms came all the way around her (she was so small), the way her fingers invited him to touch her like it was alright as she reached behind to rest her palms on his thighs.

It was getting so hot, and so comfortable still.

And he was getting sleepy.

It felt like the most natural thing to do, to bend his head abit more, to rest his jaw against her neck. So natural, for her to arch her nape to allow him more space, to arch her back to meld perfectly into his embrace.

His fingers touched her thigh, playing with the hem of her nightgown.

He was groaning again, this time, softer.

She was falling asleep, he could tell, and he didn't want to ruin this moment. It was already perfect.

Their legs tangled, she moved abit. It teased him further, but he was a gentleman, and he would savor this enough already.

Her hair tickled his nose.

It was still too hot, but right here, with her in his arms, everything was right.

He pulled the blanket over her (pretty sure he was just the one feeling the heat), made sure it covered her well, before enfolding her into his arms again, and just slept, forgetting the world and leaving everything else but this moment behind.

Half asleep, he faintly felt her tracing the fold of his thighs, teasing.

"'Night, Aerith." He said, softly.

Cheek to cheek, his chest to her back, he slept, but not without a small smile lifting the corner of his lips prior.

Maybe next time, maybe another night, when she would visit him like this again, they could do something…more. He was still felt so inadequate at this; so inexperienced. He would have to take it slow, and experiment.

But for now, this was enough.

FIN

My apolgoeis…if it got too sexual at the end, I couldn't resist. Poor cloud, I'll make it up to you someday heh.

Review, otherwise, my dear readers.

myst-san.