Word count: 600
A/N: sorry, no M-rated this time.
It was common knowledge: Lulu wore too many belts, and oftentimes, she would flick a little silvery dust off her gown. The shine and sheen of her belts twinkled and sparkled against the noonday sun. She wore a protective fur lining along her abundant breasts, and whenever she bent over, fire and lightning flickered from her polished fingertips. Her eyes look slightly dark, lustrous in the twilight when the sun has gone down. Her sleeves were always impeccable, long and swished loudly against the tornado twin-winds she produced in single file.
When Lulu was tired, she never complained or balked, but kept going along with everyone at a steady pace. She could lift a Behemoth King with her high level magick and call the storm to her side. Did those belts hinder or help her? Yuna observed her friend with growing curiosity. She spent much too much time paying attention to Tidus. This time, she decided she would take some time to talk to Lulu. She was fascinated.
She found the magick-user staring across the horizon, where the water laps like a long blue tongue. Slick dew drops brush at their garments, evaporating as soon as it made contact. Lulu turned a little, to the side, giving Yuna notice. Her hands placid against each other, profile gentle against the water’s reflection, and she reached out, after a moment to bring the young woman close to her.
Yuna could feel the heat, the tingly warmth of her friend’s hand. The cold metals of her rings contrasting soft, warm, glowing skin; and there were smiles between them, under that moonlit dusk. Yuna took a deep breath, was unexpectedly anxious, but she needn’t fear. Lulu spoke for her, all with low-dulcet-honey tones, along with faultless soothing words. She was not too tired, she said-- that the quiet between them spoke volumes. She knew why Yuna came. Their fingers pressed hard, breaths release, like tender sighs.
She wasn’t lonely. Not in this world, not with Yuna there, by her side. Even her belts, those belts that clink and look heavy, were undone, clasp by clasp, until she produced the smallest one—a thin leather of black and complex design, like those of a snake-slithering shiny against her darkened gown. This was for Yuna, and in return, the summoner could only nod against her friend’s dark head. It was not because she was in love with Lulu, she was not. Her love was already taken—to a man with full smiles and a heart of gold. But tonight, she would spend this, with Lulu, take the belts, and place them in a neat pile.
Tonight, when the fireflies in the night merged with the pyres, she would tell Lulu of all the things she wanted to tell her, ask her things, listen and maybe get a little closer. Her heart soared, as Lulu’s blue lightning tingled her skin. It was only a touch. A slight merge, a small whispering kiss; enough so that her breath caught, like a bird in a gilded cage. Feathers, yielding like a dove’s back, divined into her spirit, and the summons of light, healing phoenixes take flight between their lips. It was not much. But it was more than Yuna could afford. For Lulu, her lost love was a testament to her strength.
Did unbuckling all the belts help? Yuna had to ask, silence between them yawned. Lulu did not lean into her friend, managed only to drop her damask lashes against the pale-cool cheek. So close.
Yes. It helped.