Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Pairing: Rude/Tifa Lockhart
Theme: #30- Cooking
Summary: She amazed him.
He watched her pale hands moving: one holding the smooth expanse of the silver toned knife and the other holding the tomato steady. Her hands moved in a steady pace, never once faltering in their movements. It was a fluid motion he marveled at: so very much like her fighting style, all grace and muscle tone.
She turned to him, a small smile quirking at the edge of her mouth. “Am I that interesting?”
He turned back to the vegetables she had assigned his to chop, a faint blush coloring the tan of his skin. “Not really.”
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, before falling back on the food she was lovingly slicing. She treated the food like she did her friends: precious, irreplaceable. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw anyone treat such seemingly meaningless objects with such care. He found it both oddly cute, and at the same time unnerving.
“Pay attention or you’ll cut yourself.”
His gaze fell back to his own cutting. Sure enough he had come dangerously close to chopping into his own finger. “My apologies.”
“Don’t apologize. Just be more careful. Don’t want you getting hurt, do we?” She gave him one of her smiles, the beautiful ones that made his legs feel weak. He would always chastise himself for acting like a school boy with a crush around her, for becoming undone at the sight of her smile, the sound of her laughter. They were art, music, beauty, and he cherished every time he got to see her smile, hear her laugh, or hell, even hear her voice at all.
She reached over, stilled his hand and picked up the vegetables he had already chopped, dumping them into the pot on the stove.
“You didn’t have to cook,” he told her softly. “I would have taken you out.”
“I know,” she assured him with another one of those smiles. “But I wanted to.”
He watched her carefully, took in the smooth slopes of her cheeks, the shine of her hair in the kitchen light. She laughed, a small twinkling sound. “What are you looking at?”
She blushed, a brilliant red stain across her pale skin. He cupped her chin, tilted her head up. “Very beautiful.”
She smiled slightly, let out a shaky laugh. “Well, thank you.”
“You are quite welcome.”
He kissed her, soft, gentle, kind. She let the knife in her hand clatter to the floor as she lifted her arms wrapping them around his neck, dragging him closer.