school starts soon kill me now

also is none of the ffxiii-2 cast gonna show up in lightning returns what

It's a sick desire she feels when she looks into his wide green eyes and thinks, I want to taint him.

He stares at her with utter faith, utter adoration and devotion, and she's sickened by it. Sickened that he's indulging, drowning, under the weight of his pure innocence, as pale and perfect as his own silver hair.

He cocks his head to the side.

"Did I do well, Lightning?"

"Did I do well, Claire?"

Serah grins as she holds the painting up. Lightning looks up from the legal documents. It's already midnight.

"Yes, Serah." Serah beams with all the joy a twelve year old can muster. "Go to bed."

"Okay, Claire." Serah laughs and turns, and for a single second, Lightning hates her. What are her responsibilities compared to Serah's? Why does Serah get to remain naive when she tossed her own innocence away to support them? Why?

Will I be able to pay the bills on time?

If I quit school, would I be able to get a job?

Would a minimum wage job support us?

How long do I have before they take her away?

The painting flutters to the ground, the image of a red stained girl and her white-clad sister.

Did I do well, Claire?

"Did I do well, Captain?" Lightning stands at attention.

"Well," Amodar responds, "You beat our record for most enemies defeated in a minute,"

Lightning can't help but grin. Here, she is not Claire Farron, Serah's older sister, the elder orphan of the Farron family, or even the errand runner desperate enough to take any job offered- she is herself.

"I'd say you did pretty damn well."

"If only you weren't here!" She screams, even as tears drip down Serah's face. "I would be able to live my own life! I wouldn't have to devote every fucking minute of my life to you! I never wanted to join the goddamn army, I wanted to go to college! You're so fucking selfish, Serah!"

Serah, ever the pacifist, merely runs away.

Lightning growls as she throws a plate against the ground, hearing it shatter into a thousand shards. There's no more money in the house. If she doesn't do something, they'll starve within the month.

The picture of their once-happy family sits on the shelf, mocking her. Her parents smile gently, cradling her sister (her sister and never her) in their lap.

"Did I do well, mom and dad?" Lightning laughs until a tear falls.

She thinks he's the most beautiful and ethereal when his arm is dripping with the blood of a PSICOM soldier, when his clothes are stained and worn, and the blood dyes the tip of his hair the lightest shade of rose pink. He's a walking contradiction, with eyes so full of an innocence she never got to enjoy that she wants to tear them out, and hands stained with the blood of civilians and soldiers alike.

"Did I do well?" He asks, a desperate desire for acceptance clear in his tone.

"Yes," she says, and smiles gently. "You did very well."