( ▪ ) ᴛ ɪ ᴅ ᴜ s
He’s been at this for /days/ - transforming the church, her church, into a place radiating Christmas joy. Surviving pews are draped with garland, mistletoes are hung in every doorway, lights are strewn along nearly every inch of floor, wall, and ceiling, and a Christmas tree ( larger than the one at home ) is full and decorated by the alter, presents surrounding it. Gifts for her, Cloud, and their friends; people Tidus doesn’t exactly know on a personal level. But Christmas is exciting so he bought jewelry pieces, scarves, and small weapons from the markets in Spira and even purchased a blitzball for the children Cloud watches over.
By the end of Christmas Eve, her home is bursting with life and holiday cheer, his wallet is empty, and there is no blank spaces under the tree. He thinks it’s worth it and is excited to see the reactions of friends, old and new. But, despite eager readiness, he promptly crashes on his usual bed, face in the pillow and sheet hazardously draped over his legs, exhaustion dragging him to heavy sleep on the pew closest to the front. And he can only hope that this is the best Christmas Aerith ever has.
she didn't know. didn't understand. didn't expect what she'd return to find. he had been gone so long, she had begun to grieve him. another zack. another mother. another her. lost to the currents of time and space, body scattered through the cosmos. hadn't he told her of his fate once? of his existence and its liminality? she is a child of the universe; he is a dream.
gone gone gone. every path lead to death. aerith promised herself that she would not live in denial. another four years wouldn't pass before she acknowledged the death of someone she cared for. she promised herself that she would not carry his name through the mud just to keep him from being buried. she promised herself so much, but how it all crumbles at the sight before her.
it is as if minerva had heard her prayers. it is as if santa had deemed her nice. it is as if someone had decided enough. no more loss. no more loneliness. no more grieving. tidus has turned her makeshift house into a home-- again-- but it is not the trailing garlands or the sprawling gifts or the way her church contains an entire galaxy of stars up its walls that draws forth a smile. it is not the effort and money and time he has placed into surprising her.
it is his presence. it is the gentle rise and fall of his chest. it is the fact that he has come back to her again, and that she is alive to witness it. for once. for once. for once.
if she were not so terribly angry, she would kiss him. ❛ wake up before i dump a bucket of water on you. ❜
