[Listening to the steady shushing of the rain and the sound of her chocobo - well, sort of hers - munching something crisp nearby, Materia felt his cheek settle on her hair, and bit her lip.
Why did he have to be so warm, and smell so good, and be so nice to her? How was she supposed to keep calling him names and sparring with him in the Bazaar if he insisted on doing stuff like making her sandwiches and giving her hugs and lending her clothes and pulling strings - she knew he must have pulled at least one - to get her a chocobo at last?
Worst rival ever. Materia shut her eyes, trying to think past the butterflies in her stomach and work this out...]
Night?
[Her voice was tentative, and unusually small for her.]
Quicklog
Why did he have to be so warm, and smell so good, and be so nice to her? How was she supposed to keep calling him names and sparring with him in the Bazaar if he insisted on doing stuff like making her sandwiches and giving her hugs and lending her clothes and pulling strings - she knew he must have pulled at least one - to get her a chocobo at last?
Worst rival ever. Materia shut her eyes, trying to think past the butterflies in her stomach and work this out...]
Night?
[Her voice was tentative, and unusually small for her.]