"No." She looks away and loves-loves-hates that she's breathing fast. "… no."

"… 'Lena." He's so gentle, right now; Elena can barely feel his hand on her wrist. Knows how hot it is on her cold skin; feels how his eyes are going deeper into her soul than she should. "C'mon."

"Just—" Elena closes her eyes and the words die on her lips. Maybe the intensity will be lost if she can't see him. "I can't." It doesn't.

"I'm just asking you to give up." His voice is so loud against the silence and the hammering heart in her chest. "Is that really so hard to ask?"

And she looks at him. really, really looks at him.

His mouth is saying I like you.

His heart is saying something similar, yet a little different.

"Yes." The female Turk whispers, unaware of how quiet they are being. "It is."

"Oh, 'Laney." It must be a crime to say her name like that, lifting her heart so high in the air.

"Stop." Her voice is soft, but also firm. She has a boyfriend. A boyfriend. And… to give in, to give up… no matter how lovely that would be… she… she—can't. Can't think. Can't move. Can't think straight when Reno holds her like she's a queen; and the female Turk has to consciously snatch her hand away, his long fingers sliding from her wrist like gossamer silk. "Don't do this, Reno. I don't—" Elena wets her lips and finds the strength to speak and stand her ground, even if right and wrong is slipping before her very eyes. "I told you, I don't want this anymore."

"Fine." Restrained, Reno keeps his temper in check, but even that doesn't stop the anger from flashing in his green, green eyes; tenderness easily replaced.

And he's gone, unable to linger any longer.

Elena knows, and hates herself for knowing that for Turks, despite casting such a perfect façade of detachment and cruelty, they are such wooden actors to each other.

She wants to say sorry—

But it's too late for that.

x x x

cygnus

x x x

The first time it's an accident.

No, perhaps not even that.

But it's certainly the most innocent kiss between them.

She—they—herself and Reno, thought that were going to die. They were in a mission and there was a bomb on the stake, ticking the seconds away.

He must have been standing too close. Far, far too close. That's what it was, Elena decides later, upon reflection, and they didn't realize that the bomb hadn't exploded and that they were still alive.

It could barely even qualify as a kiss.

Two lips touching… that's all it was.

Even so, it makes her face blush beet red.

Then the door opened, and Rude was there with a stoic expression, as always. He didn't comment, merely inclining his head to tell them to get a move on.

They didn't talk about it.

… maybe that was the problem.

x x x

She'd like to say that she never felt it.

That spark.

This… bond with the redheaded, green-eyed Turk.

But the truth is, she'd always felt it; even as he teased and patronized her, even as her temper flared and heart quickened. Though she put it to annoyance, denying what was really there.

Always there, like gravity pulling them towards each other.

Never quite the same as what she felt—feels for Tseng.

x x x

"It's not that I believe in the legend," Elena says to Rude, hating the antiseptic smell of the hospital that she is forced to be in due to unfortunate circumstances. It's not that the hospital is clean; it's too clean and clinical even for her. Nonetheless, her hands fold a piece of paper into a crane so easily, it's almost an unconscious thing, like a nervous tic that she is compelled to do. With a grin, she hand the finished product to him. "But I like pretty things."

"…" Her bald friend takes it easily, delicately placing the crane in his pocket. "Are you sure that you're all right?"

"I'm fine!" Enthusiastically nodding, the blonde assures him. "I'm fit as a fiddle with a broken string. Well, leg, really, but since fiddles don't actually have legs… I'm not entirely sure how the analogy could be anatomically equivalent or correct. Do you?"

There is silence.

Rude plays with the buttons of his shirt, seemingly debating whether he should take out her crane and admire it some more.

"… I'm glad you're all right." He says finally.

"I'm glad you visited." Quick to shine, Elena beams; realizing that she had probably spoken too much too quickly. The silent apology is accepted.

Out Rude goes and in comes Reno, an understanding between them.

"Hello," Elena starts, but doesn't quite know what to say. Her hands are already forming another crane, the supply of paper apparently endless to ShinRa resources.

"Hey," Reno grins, mouth wide. He kisses her cheek and she tries to hide her slight blush. "How are you?"

"Good." Her smile fades a bit. "I'll be better soon."

"Yeah." Absentmindedly, Reno sits on her bed, grin still visible. "That a swan you're making?"

"Crane, actually." Finished, she lifts it up into the air. Wishes it could fly on its own and flap to life. "I never thought it could be a swan."

It's a lie – before she picked up the origami book, she really had thought that crane was another word for swan, less pretty, but still – she wants him to talk to her.

"So you believe in the legend, then?"

"Me? No." A bashful smile, and her brown eyes meet his. "For that, I'd have to do one a day, with a wish. This is my second, and they're purely for fun." A thought occurs, and now seems the perfect time to say it. She swears her ears perk up like a puppy, though, and doesn't quite know why. "Here. You can keep it. I mean, it's for you. I made it for you."

"Thanks." A scuttle of paper, hands brushing for the longest second, and the crane is his, her hand playing with her hair. And still he grins cheekily as if nothing in particular has happened. "I'm still calling it a swan though."

"Oh yeah?" Intrigued, she sits up, as best she can with a broken leg and with Reno beside her. "Why's that?"

"Far more romantic, 'Laney." A slapdash grin, and he flicks her nose. "Cranes, you have to reach a thousand of them to get whatever the hell you want. Swans, though, they know in a heartbeat. They know the love of their lives in a heartbeat, and once they know, it's for the rest of their lives. Their mate dies, and the swan will just wait until he joins her, remaining in that spot, not eating, not moving… simply staying there."

"You don't think that the swan should look for someone new?"

"What's the point, Elena, if no one can compare?"

She wonders when this conversation began to mean something else and can't quite find the words to reply immediately.

x x x

Their second kiss is in front of Tseng.

But at the time, she didn't know that he was there.

At the time, she was more concerned with the white cream tinged red with strawberry juice that stained the corner of his mouth.

Impulsively, she had intended to just lick it off, a playful gesture. Reno held on hand of hers in his, and her other hand rested on her thigh.

But in that slow, slow second her free hand found itself settling on his neck. Just as his free hand crept onto her hip.

And then Tseng had cleared his throat and they'd jump apart, though their hands remained together.

She couldn't meet either of them with her eyes, though later she shared a giggle with Reno.

x x x

The thing is, Elena's confused.

It's not sudden, how it happens, whatever it is.

It's slow and building before her very eyes.

Yet it somehow escapes her notice that she's been thinking more and more of Reno and less and less of Tseng.

She wonders how he feels about this.

x x x

Reno's been getting less phone calls. Either because he's avoiding the women that he likes to chat up, or because he's hanging up on them and forgetting their very names.

Elena doesn't notice. Or—rather, she tries—pretends not to notice as she talks with Rude in the bar and doesn't (no, not at all) see Reno out of the corner of her eye and see some lady write her number on a lipstick marked napkin. Even if she does see Reno throw it in the bin without a second thought.

It's just—

"Hey!" Reno grins, infectiously bright.

"Hey yourself!" She replies, slurping down her ginger beer, the closet to alcohol that she'll ever get.

It's just the way he smiles… she can't really find a reason to not smile back.

x x x

The hugs must have come through one of her boys drunken episodes. Reno usually leans on her for support as they stumble back home, while Rude is quite content to merely let her take his hand and guide him forward.

It must have been that, but even so, it doesn't stop there.

The hugs transfer in moments of sobriety too. And… it's not an unwelcome change, not really.

Elena likes the weight of his arms around her, and how she can inhale his scent whenever she wants to in their tight embrace.

It feels natural.

The hugs don't even have to be big teddy bear hugs that Rude is fond of giving when he's feeling especially affectionate. The hugs that Reno and Elena share can be small hugs that make her twirl into his chest, or simply a brush across her cheek, fingers resting not a moment too long, or pushing back a lock of hair behind her ear. Her redhead friend loves to tease her that she only grew her out hair for this purpose. She herself will insist that this is not the case, and would immediately set to work on braiding his hair. And if he had a problem, then really, Reno, despite his complaining, would have cut it long ago.

She likes being affectionate with Reno. Maybe even a little bit more than that, though she'd rather die than admit it.

But she doesn't like it as much when he's incredibly drunk and he'll mumble some strange rambling. Every few minute he would stop and tell her a compliment, pressing a kiss against her ear in between every word.

They make her ears tingle a different kind of red.

x x x

These are her secrets that she'll never tell and Reno doesn't comment and Rude doesn't mind.

And every piece of paper that folds into a crane—or is it swan?—is like a confession that she'll never make.

x x x

Disclaimer: ffvii is not mine.