#i was searching for flowers that meant longing and found out camelias meant that and i was like “omg so cool�� but only pink camelias

[strawdool]

Subsconciously you search for ways to deny

Deny the warmth, deny the sun

Would you keep running from the light

or succumb to the comfort of it

(TROD au by @bamsara <33)

Speedpaint below

[ectocosme]

sefikura week: Day 3

prompt: hanahaki [AO3]

Nothing surprised Cloud too much now. He had affronted too much of 'impossible things' to consider the impossible to exist. When the Tuks announced Sephiroth was back, it worried him but didn't elicit any shock. Though he'd been curious as to why the man only stalked through the ruins of Midgar, not searching for a fight. The Turks were quite pleased with his announcement he'd go take care of the problem. Now he was driving slowly through the ruins full of ghosts and whispers.

He stopped in front of the church. Sephiroth's presence inside had drawn away all the people who came here to pray or to heal their geostigma. The place in front of the church looked strange without people buzzing around. Yet Cloud found it better like the church had been before: calm and welcoming. A crunch under his feet made him automatically look down, he frowned at the dead leaves but didn't linger on it. The purple of a flower held his attention longer. He picked it up, fascinated by the ten or so blossom coming from a stem and forming a whole. Though he pinched his lips at its smell: a hint of honey and blood. He turned it in his hand and brushed the red hue that tainted a few blossoms and the stem. And now his fingers. Did Sephiroth attack someone?

Cloud kept it in his hand, his love for flowers strong since meeting Aerith, and opened the old door in a series of tiny cracks. So much for the discretion. He was saved by the sound of a coughing fit covering him. Cloud didn't enter and start the fight, as he froze in the doorway. Sephiroth didn't look up as he coughed, hunched over himself in the garden of flowers. The healing pound had drowned most of it, but the kids, Tifa and him had saved a few, creating a new path of flowers where Sephiroth was, blood trickling down his chin, his hair in disarray hid most of his face to Cloud and pooled around his crossed legs.  Though, the flowers tainted with blood that fell from his mouth were clear, their colours vivid. There were the sisters of the purple one he had in hand, pink camellias and the dead leaves he'd walked on sooner.

Sephiroth looked up, a camelia blossoming on his lips. For a short moment, everything was still, only the particles of dust moving through the ray of lights indicated the passage of time. Then Sephiroth jumped to his feet, his face contorting in anger, the handle of Masamune appearing.

“Shit!”

Cloud draw his sword and parred the other's sword, blocking it in its slashing motion.

“I'm not fighting you!”

“You're not?” Sephiroth asked, voice hoarse and lips curling into a ferocious grin only to be taken by a coughing fit. He still didn't lose his grasp on Masamune, but flowers and dead leaves ended on their feet.

Even if he was his enemy, Cloud's heart ached at the pain written on Sephiroth's face. He pushed back against him, divided First Trusugi and with a quick succession of moves, overtook Sephiroth so he let go of Masamune. The man threw a punch only for Cloud to invade his space, avoiding it, then tripped Sephiroth.

“I'm not fighting you!”

“Why!” Sephiroth punched him in the ribs, eliciting a sharp pain in Cloud. The blond grabbed the hand, then crushed it under his knee. “I'm going to die anyway. I'd prefer you to kill me.”

Cloud froze, holding one of Sephiroth's hand above his head, “What? They rejected you.”

“They will!” Sephiroth roared, bucking into Cloud's grasp but not moving him. He was too weakened.

Cloud squeezed his tighs around Sephiroth to hold him in place, “So you didn't ask. How are you sure?”

Sephiroth send him a glare that expressed clearly his doubts about Cloud's intelligence, “I'm a killer. Why are you not killing me?”

“I'm not fighting a sick man.”

“I'm sick of love, and I'll die anyway, the healing water didn't cure the disease.” Sephiroth squirmed then sighed. “Why aren't you killing me? Before that, you never hesitated.”

There was truth in those words that Cloud pondered. Was that only because Sephiroth was obviously sick that he refused to fight him? Or the fact the man was talking like a sensed man rather than a madman who tried to take over the world?

“You took healing water?”

“Yes,” Sephiroth hissed, followed by a full body spasm before he coughed, blood coming first, then petals.

Cloud let go of him, squatting near as Sephiroth rolled over, and spite differents flowers from Aerith's ones. Hesitantly the blond patted the other's back as his mind stumbled against an half-formed though again and again. When Sephiroth looked back at him above his shoulder, the thought settled: did Aerith's water changed something in Sephiroth for him to came back? For his mind to come back? The aching hope it created in Cloud scared him. He took a short breath, looking away from the other slumped on himself.

“Jenova controlled you,” Cloud blurted out, as much as a question than a semi belief.

Sephiroth redressed himself and sat cross legged as he wiped away the blood on his chin, “She wasn't. I wanted it.”

It could have been true, Cloud had believed it, but the way Sephiroth looked at Aerith's flowers without seeing them, the way his breath hitched told another story. Cloud couldn't stop the impulse that took him, he lifted his hand to Sephiroth's face and pushed away a strand of hair to look at him.

“Really?”

“It's better to think that,” Sephiroth confessed in a murmur, his words rasping around more flowers.

The hand clenching around Cloud's heart stopped him from emitting any sounds nor words. Not that he had something to say, Sephiroth's vulnerability stunned him into silence. It reigned in the church for a moment with the sound of Sephiroth fighting to breath as only sound.

Cloud let his eyes wander away from the dying man, he noticed the book on flower's meanings and took it, skimming over it distractedly. He wondered how the man had ended with the disease anyway. It wasn't like he talked to a lot of people when he came back from the dead. Most often he'd go searching for Cloud and fight.

The image of camelia's in the book caught Cloud attention, the pink one meant longing, which was expected from someone with unrequited love. Curious, Cloud looked up the two others, an eye on Sephiroth new flower that he wiped distastefully from his mouth. Dead leaves meant sadness and the purple hyacinth a synonymous thing, though it could be “I am sorry” too. The last flower, an array of little bluebells, meant “thank you for your understanding”. Their newness made Cloud's heart squeezed and his breath catch.

“When- when did it start?”

“It's been a few years, though you killed me before the flowers could grow.”

“What changed?” Cloud asked, pushing his words through the ball obstructing his throat.

“Less Jenova's cells,” was Sephiroth only answer, his voice lowering like he was in pain. “Me roaming the ruins rather than chase you.”

Cloud liked his lips and stared at the man, his heart beating so hard he could only hear it.

“I fell in love so long ago,” Sephiroth murmured a long time after, surprising Cloud. “He liked me too, before the slaughter and madness.”

“How was he?”

“Better,” the word made Cloud frown. “Better than me. He wasn't the best socially but surmounted his own anxieties for me. I liked his laugh. I couldn't make him laugh, but Zack did. He was setting goals that became to highs for him only because he spent more time helping others than himself. And then said he wasn't interested in them. He wasn't interested but he helped.”

“Sounds like an idiot,” Cloud said in a choked up sound.

“I love that idiot,” Sephiroth said in a blank tone, his dead eyes set on his hands holding the flowers. “Before and after I did such horrid things to him. I think the disease started at Nibelheim when I attacked him, the pain and anger on his face-”

Sephiroth seemed far away, drawn in a memory, explaining why he hadn't realised what he'd said. But seconds after Sephiroth's whole body tensed, his breath caught in his throat as he stared straight ahead with eyes huge with shock. He'd realised what he said. Cloud smiled to himself sadly at the shock it elicited from the man, then lifted his left hand to Sephiroth's face. He grasped his chin and tilted it down, forcing Sephiroth to look at him. Cloud kissed the man before he could get free. Warm lips with a taste of blood and sugar parted in surprise under Cloud's. It tasted like long lost memories.

A gasp escaped Cloud at the flashing images that crossed his mind. He backed away, stared at Sephiroth who stared back, mouth slightly agape. Stunned, and acting more by instinct than any rational thought, Cloud cupped Sephiroth's cheeks and met his lips again. A simple brush first, then a pressing kiss when the other didn't pull away. In fact, he actively participated, grabbing Cloud neck and holding him close, kissing him with a sort of desperation. Cloud shuddered, overwhelmed by sensations and memories, then tried to slow the pace, calm the both of them.

He did good, since Sephiroth, as he let Cloud control the kiss while humming in approval, lifted his other hand to hug him, but forgot it was what kept them upright and he lost his balance. Cloud fell on him, pulling back enough to met surprised eyes. He liked his lips at the sight: Sephiroth lying under him, silver hairs splayed around him on flowers and lips red from their kiss.

A shudder of excitation coursed through Cloud. He leaned down again only to be stopped by a hand on his chest. It elicited a confused noise from him. Maybe it was a whine. To his surprise, the corner of Sephiroth's lip lifted in an almost smile. But he lost it quickly, the amusement on his face replaced by worry.

“But I did horrible things. I killed-”

Cloud kissed him so he'd shut up, the words stirred something hateful in him he didn't want to bring up now. He let go of the other's lips to let him breathe, knowing his lungs were still filled with – now – dying flowers, “Shut up. Don't talk about that right now. Don't.”

He met Sephiroth's eyes but closed them seeing the mix of hope and sadness in them. He didn't know what he was doing and why. A stupid thing with unseen consequences, but he couldn't let go of Sephiroth now. He couldn't kill him and it terrified him.

A gloved hand in the back of his neck made him open his eyes to stare curiously at Sephiroth, sparing a glance to his lips. The man seemed torn too, echoing Cloud's state of mind, as he laid in the bed of flowers composed from Aerith's and his. They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds before Sephiroth emitted a short huff, his lips quirked in an almost smile. Sephiroth's other hand lifted to Cloud's face and he cupped it, the tips of his gloved fingers touching on Cloud's neck. The blond shuddered at the hold. It was gentle, almost like Sephiroth was afraid to touch him fully, but his warmth spread to Cloud's cheeks. Sephiroth's thumbs moved slowly, caressing Cloud's who felt his chest expand with a bittersweet emotion he couldn't fully identify at the time.

Then Sephiroth pulled down Cloud, his lips grazed Cloud's in a chaste kiss, then ensnare him into another. Deeper, but sweet and slow, like Sephiroth was making the most of the situation.

Cloud caught himself starting to hope that it would last. He hoped this Sephiroth could stay.