I am late to give him a fluffy blanket but I have not forgotten!!!
From this game 🧣 - A fluffy blanket
Writing Prompt
Brown.
It became the first color Sephiroth loved. Brown like the earth, like warm fur and bubbles of hot chocolate. Brown like the covers of the leather-bound storybooks Professor Gast used to read to him in the Shinra library. Brown like….the occasional and small pleasures of taste….like cinnamon, tea, and vanilla.
Brown.
Her eyes were brown.
And she looked so dearly warm for it. He could picture her smile, all rosy like rubies and sweet like honey. She’d have stars in her brown eyes, golden glints shimmering like the fires of Venus. She would have soft hands that would slide through his hair and soothe his frosted scalp. She would smell like flowers - like roses in June.
Every thought became frantic heartbeats.
Sephiroth knew of roses and fondly so. He had caught their sweet scent once in a secretary’s office after the woman had been gifted the flowers by a secret admirer. He remembered spying yellow roses in the bouquet and liking them most, but he had kept his admiration carefully hidden after the first few glances and displays of interest. The execs had been in the room at the time. Some of them did not like it when Sephiroth became focused on trivial nonsense.
But he did not forget the mild shade of yellow that the blooms flaunted. He had never forgotten.
Yellow.
Much like the satin thread of ribbon woven into the brown of her hair.
Sephiroth would thereafter dream of a meadow painted with swaying roses, silky and alight with the sun’s kiss. Mother was always standing amidst the fragrant sea like an angel in cloud-white linen, her eyes squinting to compliment her beams of affection and open, welcoming arms.
In those dreams, her loon-like calls and laughter would carry across the wind to his ears. He would run to her for an embrace with his arms brimming with the roses, and he would not care for the thorns that pricked his arms. No, he’d endure every sting and stab - just so she could lean down to inhale the offering deep into her lungs.
Then Mother would pull him into her arms again and she’d let the roses fall aside as her world began to orbit her son’s. Sephiroth would not let go. No, not even once. He would cling to her gentle coat, he would sink his fingers into her hair, and his face would vanish to meet her heartbeat. He would be swallowed in her forever.
Entombed. Returned to that enveloping, serene island….back into her….
“Sephiroth…..”
He’d go home to her…..what a wonderful idea…
“Sephiroth, wake up….”
It would be so safe….so safe….
“Sephiroth, can you hear me?”
A veil of light hit Sephiroth’s twitching eyelids as they were pried open against his will. He groaned.
No…no….come back…..
Her image was like a wisp in the woods, fading just as it was to be caught. A ghost shivering into silence.
“No….no…..” he gasped.
“Wake up, come on…you’re drifting again…”
“She wants to see me…..she’s…..”
“It’s not her….”
Something downy and comforting fell across his shoulders. Sephiroth nuzzled into it without thinking much about the gesture, clinging and clawing at the softness.
He wanted…he wanted…
His head fell back and he sputtered as he began to hear his own haggard breathing. The walls of invulnerability he usually kept standing were already crumbled thanks to the dream. A weight in his chest burned. It was so heavy, the grief.
Hold me…please….
He forced himself to face the world again and the first thing he saw was blue. Angeal’s eyes gazing down at him with worry. Tender, sky-blue. Like a summer rain from above.
Gasping, Sephiroth reached to grip Angeal’s arm for support, just for a moment.
“You were dreaming again. Just hold onto my voice, okay?” Angeal said, ever so soothing. He had thrown a brown wool blanket around his friend, who had fallen into sleep sitting upright on the sofa in Angeal’s quarters. It was the only place Sephiroth slept more than a few hours, and he needed it now more than ever. The past week had been a cyclical hell of unique R&D visits.
“Who is “she?” Genesis asked in the background, his tone hinged with sparked curiosity. He was in the other room, working on an edit to one of his recent research projects.
Angeal only sighed and sat on the sofa next to Sephiroth who nearly collapsed against him, finally breathing halfway normally again. “Never mind. Don’t let us interrupt your studying, Gen.”
“Hmph.” Genesis’ disgruntled voice vanished back into his secluded area of the apartment.
Angeal smiled and went back to fussing like a mother hen over his younger, sleepier friend. Sephiroth was now cocooned in the blanket, which was rather endearing to see. Especially with how tousled his silvery hair was.
“You okay?” Angeal asked quietly. Sephiroth appeared to be clutching the blanket like his life depended on it, having let go of Angeal.
“I like this color,” was all the hero said, ignoring the question and closing his eyes again. His mouth was covered by part of the blanket, leaving his words muffled and sleepy.
“….dark b-brown….?”
“Mhm.”
Angeal thought for a moment. He had learned years ago that Sephiroth had issues with sleep. He wasn’t used to finding rest in cushioning spaces. But…he needed to grow used to the experience badly, even if he would never admit it.
“When you sleep on guard, you have nightmares. You need to lay down properly,” Angeal urged, moving to make space for Sephiroth’s ever-growing size.
“No.”
“Yes. Sephiroth, I’m serious.”
“It wasn’t a nightmare.”
Angeal glowered at him and debated whether or not to protest with his next point. “It would have become one and you know it…..”
Sephiroth went still. He slowly dared to open his eyes and there was a knowing sadness in the green rings of his irises. He bit his lip, looking at Angeal with some hint of regret. The truth had been spoken with no quarter.
“You need to relax and actually sleep or else your mind will become a target for shadows and ghosts that neither of us need to be in contact with,” Angeal said. He placed a strong, guiding hand on Sephiroth’s shoulder and shook his head. “Lay down. Head on the pillow. With this blanket. Sleep all night. The sun is setting. I’ll wake you when it comes back.”
It was an order. Sephiroth once used to grimace at the way Angeal would demand he follow these “needless” routines to preserve himself, but in the days they presently shared, he knew better than to argue.
Angeal knew him.
“Fine….” Sephiroth sighed and forced himself to stretch out across the sofa with the blanket covering his lithe form. He winced once he let his head rest on the pillow Angeal had provided. It was almost frightening….the feeling of being propped up and cradled by such warmth and comfort. It felt wrong. It felt right. His chest hurt. His heart sang.
And eventually he breathed easy.
The dusty gold light of sundown spilled through the blinds of Angeal’s westward window and caressed Sephiroth’s serene visage as he faded back into sleep. Quiet snoring followed not long after.
Angeal was satisfied. His friend looked safe beneath the gentle covering of the mahogany blanket. He looked….homey, free from all dreams and nightmares. Free from the grief.
“Sleep well, my friend. I’ll be here when you wake,” Angeal whispered, fondness dripping from every word.
He secured the blanket tightly around Sephiroth and then went to make some tea.
The ShinRa PR department is begging SOLDIER Director Lazard to please keep his subordinates in control and off of PR filming sets. A bill for damages is attached.
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