driftfleet | Yadrolla System Mingle

[ It's very easy to slip close into his arms, leaning up for another quick kiss. ]

I love you too, Zack. [ And she's glad. Even if it's scary it's something that she gets to share with him, and that makes it okay. She can survive this - it'll be worse for him when they get there, she's sure. ] Lets go.

Mm.

[He lingers for a long moment, reluctant to take that first step, but her support and their joined hands is courage enough, so at last he backs up and gives her a gentle tug, guiding her out and towards the artisan's part of the city. It isn't that far of a walk - easily made on his own - but he's only able to lead the way while she's with him. He keeps a tight hold on her hand, carefully controlled but most certainly strained.]

[ There's no need to say anything while they walk, she thinks. Aerith is here - she knows - to be a guardian, a support, someone for Zack to lean on. She holds onto him and walks at his side, standing tall and proud with no hesitance, complete faith in him clear in everything that she does.

He can do this. It might be a lot, it might be frightening, but she believes in him. ]

[It's an uneventful walk, which is unusual but merciful for Zack at this point; for once he needed the quiet, and the soul-soothing experience of getting to walk through the streets hand in hand with his girlfriend. Small talk and gentle smiles help him move his feet one after the other, and over time, it does get easier. He even starts to get a little excited. He's finally doing something about his situation rather than mope at his own reflection, instead of depending on Aerith's reassurance that it isn't so terrible to look at every time he takes his shirt off. He likes being naked with her, and he wants to feel comfortable in his own skin again. This is just one path to getting there.

At last they reach the tattoo parlour, and after one last-second hesitation, he steels himself, squeezes her hand, and guides them inside. The smell is there, of course- the clean chemical scent, soap, accompanied by the buzz of needles at work. Even knowing it was coming, it's hard not to let the sudden onslaught of emotions and memories overwhelm him. This isn't the lab, this isn't Hojo's private torture chamber under Nibelheim. The smell is bleach and alcohol, not mako. And the friendly face behind the counter isn't one of his lackeys. He's not here to be locked up and experimented on- he's here for art.

He exhales a held breath and looks back at Aerith, as much to check on her wellbeing as to let her face reassure him further that he's safe and free as ever.]

[ The walk itself is the easiest part, she thinks; they go together, hand in hand, and she doesn't let her pace fall away from his - she just walks with him, keeping her head high and her fingers pressing against Zack's. She can be a pillar, here, she thinks. People at home had been so strong for her for such a long time... Aerith thinks it's about time she was strong for her friends as well, to open her arms and let them lean on her as surely as she had leant on them.

The actual parlour isn't quite what she was expecting, but she's never been to have a tattoo before. It smells, but it's not like being in the labs at Shinra or the vague memories of her mother and father. It's cleaner, and the people seem kind, nice, with soft smiles and excited expressions - they must enjoy their jobs, right? Even so, Zack's hand squeezes her own and she moves forward, tilting her head up to look at him, face softening into a smile. ]

This seems like a nice place. Good choice!

[Her smile is a breath of fresh air, and it's so easy to smile back at her, the tension easing in his shoulders. He nods.]

Right? That's what I thought, too. I never did this back home but I went with a couple of my buddies a few times, and the Midgar places were real scrappy in comparison. I like it here. Oh, and- hey, lemme show you.

[He scoots to the counter, exchanging a quick greeting with the girl who checks him in. "Your designs are done," she tells him when he asks, and she passes over a folder, which he opens up to show Aerith two images within, one on each side: on the right a sweeping pair of folded black wings with scattering feathers, the placement for each marked and intentional, and on the left a watercolour smear of green with twisting vines, peppered with numerous familiar flowers.]

So... what do you think?

I'll bet they weren't safe either.

[ This looks like the sort of place that's going to treat Zack well, where there's no risk of anything unclean or dirty. Life was okay in the slums, for the most part, thanks to her mom and her house, but Aerith knows it wasn't like that for everyone. Death and disease was a normal part of life and she had seen many sick people, enough to leave her frustrated and angry with Shinra as they tried to capture her.

As Zack opens out the folder she moves closer, reaching out and tracing her fingers over the shapes. Her face breaks into something soft and gentle - she knows the wings, of course she does, and the flowers are like her home to her. When she manages to look up at him again she's coloured with her emotion and trying not to cry. ]

I think they're beautiful.

[And with that, then and there, Zack knows he made the right choice. His expression brightens and he leans in to cup her cheek and kiss her forehead, then briefly on the lips; the artist is waiting so he doesn't want to get too PDA, but he can't not kiss her. That expression on her face is just so beautiful.

This is good, this is right. He always wants to be able to carry a piece of her with him, no matter what, and the flowers from her church binds them all together- not just him and Aerith, but Cloud as well. It's how they met her, tied by some strange fate to find that place.

And the wings? Well, the wings have always been for him. He can be a little selfish sometimes.]

It's gonna take a while. Should I start with the back, or the front? I can't decide.

[ Aerith leans up into the kiss, returning it with a small smile. It's a small price to pay, she thinks, coming to a place like this in order to make sure that Zack is okay. She knows she would do anything for him, really, but this isn't even that much to ask. A tattoo parlour isn't Hojo's lab. She keeps reminding herself of that, time and time again. She can breathe.

She understands the importance of the symbols, at least. The flowers mean so much to her, to him, to all of them, that having it as a part of his body, something beautiful to hide the awful parts... It's incredible and she cannot even begin to put it into words. ]

The back is going to hurt more, isn't it? So whichever one you want to get over with first.

[Oof... so in the end, the decision's his- though he suspected it would be that way. It's his body and kind of a big deal after all. He gives it a moment's consideration, then offers the folder back to the girl, pointing to the flowery design.]

This one first, if that's okay.

[Pain isn't something he's worried about- SOLDIERs are durable in plenty of ways, and a tolerance for that sort of thing is one. A bit of digging into the skin with a needle is surely nothing compared to blade and bullet wounds. Anyway, he can't see his own back as easily, and he'd rather focus on putting his best front forward. Flowers first; the rest can come later, when he's braver.

They're led inside to the work area, where a couple of artists are already at work with other customers, and he doesn't let go of Aerith's hand until they greet the guy he'd booked and he's told to get his shirt off. No one's surprised by the scars this time - he'd given them a full view when they'd marked out where to put the flowers in the design, after all - and before long he's stretched out in the chair, watching with nervous fascination as his skin is cleaned and smeared with alcohol in preparation for the tattoo. He holds a hand out for Aerith again, lips pursing.]

Oh man... I should've told you to bring a book or something.

[ It has to be his, she thinks; Zack has to be completely sure about what he wants and how he's going to get it, and Aerith can be here just to hold his hand.

She knows that the pain isn't going to be the problem - it's going to be the time taken, the ache afterwards, the feeling of needles and the smell of the cleaning fluid. She knows that her role here isn't really to critique the art - she's here to make sure her boyfriend is okay, that the man she loves is okay. ]

It's okay. I don't mind - I bet it'll be interesting.

[ Lifting his hand, she presses a kiss to his fingers. ]

I'll be right here.

[He gives her hand a squeeze, and he keeps his gaze on her to stay calm as the tattoo artist warns him and begins to slow, gently-stinging process of painting his skin. It's truly a testament of her calming effect on him that he doesn't instinctively jump right out of his chair and throw something when the needle presses into his flesh, and after his initial flinch, it actually starts to get easier. Aerith distracts him with gentle conversation, the artist interrupts only to check on him and give a progress update, and every time he glances over at his chest there's more colour and less immediately prominent scarring to be seen. It helps. It helps a lot, and as the hours pass he focuses less and less on the process and more on Aerith and the art itself as it comes together. The worker they'd selected for him is fast and skilled, efficient with each stroke, and eventually, as the sun begins to set outside the shop and the other employees prep for close, he gives Zack's arm a pat and comments that they're done for the day.

Only then does Zack look down for the first time in a long while, and- ah.]

Holy shit, Aerith.

[What the heck is this beautiful canvas on his torso?? ...Like okay it's also kind of messy and a bit bloody and red-raw as hell but still, he can see it...!]

[ Aerith watches the entire process with wide eyes, drinking in the movement of the artist and the shape the ink takes. It's beautiful, she thinks, truly beautiful, and she feels a little awestruck that she's been able to witness this happen, that Zack asked her to come with him. It's remarkable, to see the horror of his scars being covered up by something beautiful, something that she recognises as being close to something of her own, and her heart is thudding gently in her chest as she holds his hand.

She doesn't stop, either, stroking her fingers over his, giving him little moments to relax, to talk if and when he needs it, smiling fondly and gently the entire time.

It's not until the artist leans back a little that she really drinks in the design and her eyes widen, a gasp caught in her throat. ]

Oh... Zack...

[It's a good thing that Aerith's here, because Zack's only half-listening to the artist's instructions for after-care, setting up another appointment, all that fun stuff. He's sort of busy staring at the tattoo, still. He snaps out of it when the guy offers out his shirt and prods him upright to get it wrapped. He's still a bit dazed as they go through the whole process of paying and rescheduling for touch-ups and the next steps, he's handed some papers for care (mostly because he was obviously not listening) and then, just like that, they're standing outside of the shop again.

Zack glances back, glances at Aerith, and glances down.]

Oh man... I guess that's that, huh. One down...

[ Aerith is, at least, listening very carefully to everything that Zack needs to do, giving her boyfriend a fond, gentle look as she nods along. She's the one that reaches out and plucks the papers from Zack's hands (she'll probably be the one taking care of him anyway, especially since she wants to) before they step outside the shop and she turns to look up at him with a bright, fond expression on her face. ]

One to go.

[ Leaning up, she draws him in for a quick, soft kiss. ]

It's beautiful, Zack.

Nah, you're beautiful. But this is pretty good, too.

[He leans in for a kiss, this smooth bastard. ...But when he pulls back he's actually looking giddy instead of pleased with himself, practically bouncing on his heels.]

You recognized them, yeah? The flowers? Did I remember them right?

Zack. [ She laughs quietly, lifting her head and drawing him down to return the kiss, pushing herself up just a little to match his height. Both her boys are so tall...

Her fingers are gentle when they rest against his chest, not pushing or trying to hurt, but resting where she knows the flowers are. ]

You did. They're perfect.

[Her touch is light enough that it doesn't even sting; his body is already knitting itself together anyway.]

I'm glad. Though I guess it's a bit late at this point, huh.

[Lies, if they were wrong he'd pay for corrections. Only the best for his girl.]

I would've told you before you got it done, silly.

[ She did get to see the art before it was tattooed, so she would've mentioned something that important.

For now, though, her hand trails down and finds his, fingers squeezing his. ]

I'm proud of you.

Proud?

[He glances down, head tilted.]

Isn't this kinda running away from the problem?

[He'd struggled with it for a while- the idea that covering up the scars might just be hiding from what happened, or something like that. His whole reason for doing it is purely self-interest (and vain, besides).]

I don't think so.

[ Aerith turns, staring up at the sky as she thinks. ]

I think... Running away would be like... Never looking at it. Pretending it isn't there, or that it didn't happen. Ignoring it. Not showing anyone anything under your shirt. Acting like you're okay when you're not. You're not doing any of those things.

Mm... not anymore, I guess.

[He's done his fair share, especially at the start. The beach date, his unease during their first time- he's no stranger to shame about it at this point. But like this... yeah, he feels like it'll be different.]

I'd still be doing that if you weren't here, y'know.

Then I'm glad I'm here.

[ Lifting her hands, she cups his cheeks, fingers brushing over his skin gently. ]

You've become so strong.

I haven't changed that much... it makes more sense to say that about you.

[She's grown leaps and bounds beyond where she started, when he first met her. She changed when he couldn't even watch it, but he's glad to see the results.

If he's changed it all, it often feels like he's changed for the worse. More cynical, more angry, more hurt. More tired. It's his own fault, though, if she doesn't know it. Not like he's really showed much but his usual smiles.]

I think you've changed more than you think, Zack.

[ But she pauses, turning around to look at him, her dress fluttering around her heels. Slowly, her hands lift and they press against her stomach, gently hovering. ]

I think... We grew up.

Yadrolla System Mingle

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