Theme: 02- Bath
Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII or the characters within.
Warnings: Brief mentions of fingers in not appropriate places, but nothing too vivid.
Summary: He used to watch her.
He had a habit of watching her bathe. She wasn’t sure if it bothered her or not. In truth it was a little bit embarrassing (he did watch her so intently she felt like asking if he would be tested on how many freckles she had running down her chest later), but she didn’t really mind it. It was, in his own way, a sign he cared for her.
He would sit there calmly, sometimes sipping his coffee, sometimes reading the newspaper (peering at her from over it), and sometimes both while she lay suspended in the water, the tops of her breasts the only part of her torso (or below) visible above the water level.
She doesn’t even remember when it was decided that he would join her in the baths, sitting quietly behind her, her back pressed against the smooth, firm expanse of his chest.
His hands would run through her hair, wetting the light strands to a light golden brown, his lips pressed against her neck, drawing small sounds from the back of her throat, then his fingers would slide down her chest and disappear beneath the water, sliding to touch her and slide inside of her, and all sense was gone.