A/N: This was written when i was feeling rather down and bitter about a certain loss I had, so I apologize if the emotions I felt at the time overpowered my ability to keep the characters...in character. If you found that it was way too OOC or happen to dislike it obscenely for any other reason, do leave a review so that I am aware of the mistakes I am making, and so that I am able to improve on my characterization skills. However if you are flaming the pairing, I suggest you keep your comments to yourself.

Inspired from a cutscene in the game. Title inspiration taken from Snow Patrol's 'Chasing Cars'.

Standing there with her fist nestled in the small of his back, it felt like it was just the two of them – even if they were just talking about Serah a second ago. Because in this field of long grass and wild flowers, it was just the two of them, with only the shadow of Cocoon in the corner of her eye to tell her that she couldn't believe in miracles.

She ruthlessly tore herself back to reality, to being realistic. "No doubt," she said, barely hoarse. "You taught me that." And she knew he agreed. Because for him it was all too easy to have faith, as easy as he loved - and therefore damned her for all eternity.

If she closed her eyes she could imagine that this moment meant as much to him as it did to her. If she closed her eyes she could pretend that it would – could – be like that forever; just she and him, close together, deliriously lost in the wilderness of Pulse but it didn't matter at all, when they were all they needed and the world could easily be forgotten. Just like that. Perhaps if she closed her eyes she would have found that she cried more freely in the dark where it was black behind her lids; and perhaps if a single tear hadn't leaked onto her cheek shamelessly before that, she would have made that discovery standing in the middle of a blissful nowhere, staring at his strong back with her forehead pressed against his shoulder.

The strain and torture of the past few weeks had chipped away at her outer layers, leaving her raw and exposed and vulnerable. She had been so close to breaking point. So close that she feared it would occur when she was amongst all her companions, beating the ground with her fists for all to see. But she never could have expected, that he would be the one to unravel her.

She blinked at the depth of sorrow she felt knowing that it was this man, this idiotically, theatrically, dramatic dolt of a man, who could've made her the happiest she's ever known to be. She shed more blasted tears realising that he felt the exact same way, with Serah Farron, and would die for Serah in a heartbeat and would for her as well, but only because she was Serah's older sister. Because of an obligation. Because of guilt. Not because he didn't think he could live without her. And she wiped those tears away mercilessly with her free hand, as silently as possible, when she knew she was being ridiculously weak and imbecilic by giving her heart to a man who wouldn't give his in exchange; and that he would inevitably be her fucking brother-in-law and she wouldn't do anything about it because even she couldn't do that to Serah. Precious Serah.

Searching her mind, she started to wonder when exactly she began harbouring adulterous thoughts, and it came to when she punched him in front of his fiancée, in front of her sister's crystalised form. Twice. Because he was so damned passionate about everything and so alive, that she had begun to realise she hadn't been living at all for the past few years. Which scared her and angered her and shook her so hard that after getting over the denial, she decided she didn't want to go back to being dead anymore.

She inhaled deeply the scent of his raw self amidst the sweeter tinge of the flowers. There was something painfully heartbreaking about knowing that he, this clumsy, ignorant idiot, felt like home. Because it was a long time since she had one, and she was so far away from it now that she could never go back. In a selfish moment of utter bitterness with the taste of salty tears on her tongue, she wished the world would just disappear for her and leave them both. Just as they are. How simple that would be, how easy it would be to forget. To forget that he loved Serah the way he would never love her, to forget that she still loved Serah fuck it all, to forget that she was her fucking sister of all people and as hard as she may wish for her own happiness, she could never rob her dear, younger sister of hers. She couldn't do it. Serah always came first. Always.

She knew Snow agreed.

Which was why she was so angrily, maddeningly confused when she turned to go, refusing to let him see her, that she felt him turn to reach for her; but missed. She didn't turn back, but her determined strides did falter microscopically, and her traitorous eyes let yet another tear spill over. Caught between mortification and indecision on what she should do, what she was supposed to do (Run. Now.), she halted suddenly. That was when she hated herself more for giving in to her weakness, but what could she do when he asked her to stay with just her name?

She will burn in hell when she finally digs her own grave deep enough, she knows. Did he know that too? She wondered when it is the devil will claim her soul to expose her in all blasphemed glory. And she found her answer when he gently reached for her hand, gripping her fingers tightly and fisting his hand in hers.

She sighed, so frustratingly conflicted, but defeated and exhausted. Burning in hell. "Let's…not talk about Serah. Please," she whispered.

She heard his soft breathing amongst the wind circling them, and felt the heat from his body as he moved closer. Closer to her.

"…Okay."

She could never have him. But just for that moment she could pretend that she could. And she could imagine, to dream, that maybe he wanted her too.

And so there they were, with his fist in her palm and temple pressed to the side of her head, existing, plain and evident as day. And there she felt insane because she was supposed to be in hell, but she felt alive and safe and just so peaceful that it may just be the day she found heaven. When she found a home again, with him.

She couldn't help but smile, and she didn't care at all if he saw her being happy. Because she was, honest to god, she was fucking happy with him. Damn it all to heck.

"Are you…sad?" There was a crack in her voice and a hitch in her chest, contemplation and anxious hope coursing through her veins. Asking him if he was happy right now, with her, was too much and she wouldn't cross that line.

His temple pressed closer against her hair when he shook his head, astonishingly, remarkably, typically. "No…I'm not sad." And because they weren't talking about Serah she didn't know what to say anymore. "It's nice, like this…" She could hear the tentative undertone in his voice, and the shameless sincerity strewn above so blatantly.

She thought then, that she really could bear to see the world go if it meant spending aimless hours, chasing wistful, beautiful, impossible cars around their heads. Seeing Cocoon searing the corner of her vision, she closed her eyes, leaning into his warmth. Knowing that he could very well see, in a bout of bitter conceit, she cried freely behind closed lids.

Wordlessly he embraced her tight and snug and as she felt a tear that wasn't her own fall onto her lips, she thought she died just a little bit more.

And she died little deaths here and there each time she looked at him after that, when he smiled at her – full on – like she wasn't the tear in his pocket; but Lightning, in the midst of a storming blizzard.