Prompt: #60. Enemies
Word Count: 1419
Summary: Enemies find comfort in each other one night.
She knows this is wrong, but she doesn’t really care. It was a decision, made by both parties, that this would be a one time thing. They were enemies, after all, and enemies didn’t do this sort of thing. They were more careful, more aggressive, more violent. This wasn’t how enemies should be, but they didn’t care. He was trying to regain some form of humanity; she was trying to gain some kind of balance.
Perhaps she had known he would find her when she wandered off on her own from the group. She knew if she left while they were asleep that they would never find her. They were too wrapped up in their own little world or sleep and dreamless times. They were too concerned with their mission to wonder, really, how the others were doing.
He had startled her at first when he found her, coming up behind her and wrapping an arm around her waist, dragging her back against him. She followed her first instinct, bringing her elbow back harshly into the stomach of the man who had grabbed her. He had grunted loudly, but his arm didn’t loosen up on her. As a matter-of-fact it tightened. She could feel his breath close to her ear, warm enough that even if she was afraid, it made her shiver. “You are lucky I am the one that found you here.” Then, as quickly as he had grabbed her, he released her.
She had turned, fists raised to lash out at him, but he had made no move to take a fighting stance, didn’t move from his spot at all. He merely watched her in the dark, almost like a statue. For a moment she had to remember he was in fact breathing, because it was pretty easy to think he wasn’t. She never saw anyone so still before, and the idea was actually a little bit scary.
“You shouldn’t wander off from your friends.” He stood there, adjusting his tie. “It can get rather dangerous. And if the others had found you, you wouldn’t be standing right now.”
She knew, vaguely, that this was the most she had ever heard him talk, even with all their fights, she barely saw him talk. His partner was the talker, loudmouthed and rather annoying. He was the quiet, strong presence standing next to him with the dark glasses and the unwavering expression.
She relaxed her stance, arms falling to her sides. “I couldn’t sleep,” she explained. “I had to get away for a bit.”
He nodded, once again being the silence presence. She couldn’t understand it, she should have wanted to hit him, or run, or both. He was her enemy, but, she wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t going to try to hurt her. Not then, she could tell. How she wasn’t sure, but she knew it deep down.
She sat then, folding her legs beneath her. “Do you ever…..need to get away from everyone? Just sit and think and be you for a little while?” She paused slightly as if waiting for him to answer, picking at the grass beneath her legs. “Sometimes I need to get away from everyone, just need to think about things.” She watched him, without invitation, sit next to her, long legs half bent towards his chest. “I guess….you can’t understand.”
She turned to look at him slightly, peering from under her hair. “Maybe you can. We both have our purposes, our missions, don’t we? They’re just….different.”
“I suppose so.”
“I…just want to try to forget sometimes. There are things I want to just leave my mind. Things that happened, things that might. Sometimes I need to be away from them. I want to forget about my past…..Cloud is always trying to talk about his for us, for himself. I want mine to go away. I want it to have never happened. I hate that feeling.”
He had watched her for a while, quiet as he usually was. Maybe he wasn’t sure what to say, or maybe just not sure how to say what he wanted to. But he did speak after a while, almost too quiet to be heard. “I know how it feels to want to forget.”
She didn’t remember later on who had moved first, or who had decided this was a good idea, but she ended up laying on the grass, his lips against hers, firmly, almost bruising her mouth, but she kissed him back with the same intensity, the same need. She would look back and forget when their hands started to wander across each other’s skin, when their clothes were removed. The air was cold, and she shivered before her body was warmed by his, much larger than her own, resting gently on hers, his mouth pressed against her neck. His fingers danced across her skin, calloused tips making her shudder.
She remembers being so self-conscious about her scar that she almost pulled away from him, she was afraid he would look at her and see that damage and find her as ugly as she felt. Then his fingers brushed against the scar. She tensed, wishing she could crawl under a rock and hide her mark from everyone, wished she had never let him see it. But his fingers were sweetly tracing the scar, almost caressing it, almost telling her it wasn’t ugly, she wasn’t ugly. It was oddly sweet for a man who was her enemy to be doing that. It made her lose all train of thought. She was afraid to think, afraid to rationalize what was going on, because if she did that she would make it stop, but this was a comfort thing: she could tell he was looking for a comfort as much as she was, even if he didn’t say it. He actually didn’t do say much of anything, and that didn’t surprise her- he was the strong, silent type.
She had closed her eyes and let his lips press against her skin, across the skin of her neck, her collarbone, down her chest, across the scar. She let her mind wander away from where they were and what they were doing, let herself just dwell in the moment, and the movement of his mouth and fingers against her, the way his hand reached down, stroking her softly until her eyes rolled in the back of her head and she was bucking against his hand, whimpering, trying to get both closer and to pull away.
The sex wasn’t quite as gentle as the rest of it. He had slid inside of her quickly, sharply, making her bite her lip to keep from making sounds too loud. She had gripped his shoulders tightly, digging her nails into his skin, drawing blood out under her pale, pale nails. His movements were precise, quick and deep and rough, and at first she whimpered slightly with pain, but it didn’t take long for her to get used to it, arching her body up against his, meeting him thrust for thrust, her whimpers turning quickly into almost inaudible moans as she tried to keep her voice down, afraid if she was too loud they would be discovered, and then what would her companions think? But, she wasn’t actually focusing too clearly on that, mostly on the thrusting of his body inside of hers, the way her toes curled into the ground, the way his breath was hot against her neck. She felt a warm coiling in the pit of her stomach, that growing trembling feeling that said she was close, very close. He felt it, too. She knew he did, because his calloused fingers reached between them, flicking at her swollen clit until she reached her orgasm, throwing her head back into the dirt, crying his name out in a harsh whisper. And he was right there with her, grunting quietly against her neck as he spilled inside of her, his thrusts slowing until he had stilled completely inside of her, watching her lying there with her eyes closed, chest heaving, her breath slowly returning to normal.
Afterwards they lay next to each other, half asleep, her pressed against his chest. She thought how she looked so pale next to him, so much cleaner in many ways. They stayed like that for a while before they separated without a word, dressing again and going their own separate ways.
They knew the next time they met, what they had done, would mean nothing.