Modes of Existence: Chapter Six
Some time later—seconds, minutes, hours, the blond couldn't tell, so skewed was his sense of time—Cloud felt himself drifting away as he leaned against Leon's body. This is getting ridiculous, he thought. Pushing away from Leon's chest with one hand, he swiped at his face with the other, brushing away the remnants of the tears. His body shook with a few stray sobs as Cloud gathered himself together, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes.
So...this was what it had come to. All of a sudden, Cloud's life was falling apart again. Sephiroth shows up, says a few words, and he breaks down like a child, crying all over his psychiatrist, no less. Cloud's nose flared as his pulled in a deep breath. Sweet goddess, he thought miserably. His stomach hurt from the muscle spasms of only minutes before, his face felt cracked from the dried tears, and his throat was dry, tight, and incredibly uncomfortable.
Wordlessly, he helped himself to his feet, feeling Leon shift beside him as he followed along. Cloud made his way back into the bedroom and headed for the tray Leon had brought him, taking conservative sips from the glass of orange juice on it. His back was still to the doctor, but Cloud could feel the heat of the brunet's gaze on his back. He almost choked as he snorted derisively. If Leon thought that he was going to suddenly start spouting confessions, he had another thing coming.
Cloud turned around and crawled back onto the bed, carefully holding the glass in his hand, to sit with his back against the headboard. He lifted his eyes to meet Leon's, finding the brunet staring at him shadowed eyes as he leaned against the doorway to the bathroom. They eyed each other for a minute, neither moving, neither attempting to speak.
Finally, Cloud's lips opened. “Don't expect this to be a regular thing,” he warned. His own voice sounded foreign to his ears. He supposed that a year and a half of not using it would do that to a person. Still, it was strange.
Leon almost missed Cloud's words, he was so captivated by simply hearing the sound of Cloud's voice. It was rusty from lack of use, rough and choppy, but it made Leon's heart race like nothing else ever had. He belatedly remembered his own voice. “I wasn't expecting anything,” he answered calmly with a shrug. “But do you mean the talking, or...?”
Cloud narrowed his eyes and pointedly looked away.
A smirk lifted Leon's lips. “I see,” he said, crossing the room in purposeful strides to sit down in the chair again. “So childish...”
“Look, just because I'm talking doesn't mean I'm going to be a Chatty Cathy about it,” snapped Cloud, his eyes locking with Leon's. As the brunet raised a questioning eyebrow, Cloud looked away. “It doesn't matter anymore anyway,” he said much more quietly. “Sephiroth—” His voice caught on the name, and his head hung against his chest.
Leon frowned. “Cloud,” he said. “It—”
“I don't need your pity,” mumbled Cloud with a sigh. His free hand came up to rub his eyes, and he took a swig of his juice. “And I don't need your help. I just...” Cloud trailed off helplessly. He didn't know what he wanted anymore.
Leon's lips thinned. If Cloud kept up such a defeated attitude, he would be clinically depressed in no time. Depression on top of whatever else was plaguing Cloud would not make his job any easier. “After all the shit you've done to make my life a living hell, you're not getting a single ounce of pity from me,” he grumbled, taking pride in seeing the corner of Cloud's lips lift a tiny fraction. “But the fact still remains that it's my job to help you get through this.”
The admission hung heavy in the room, until Leon spoke up again, this time with no small measure of discomfort in his voice. “And,” he continued, “I would be lying if I said I didn't care what happens to you on a personal level. I don't like see you like this, Cloud. I was so fucking terrified when you passed out last night, I just—” His hand ran through his hair in frustration, his voice breaking as he realized exactly what he was professing.
Cloud opened his mouth, perfectly prepared to argue with Leon, to tell him not to say things like that to him, he didn't deserve the kindness, when he looked up and caught sight of the unguarded emotion on the brunet's face. Leon's eyebrows were knit and his eyes were stormy, expressing anger, fear, worry. All of the fight drained out of Cloud in that instant. How many lives had he ruined already? How much pain had he caused? If he could help it, Cloud wouldn't add another person to that list; despite his constant defiance to the psychiatrist, Cloud had never intended to cause him pain. Instead, he simply nodded to himself, and reached out to nudge Leon's knee with his foot.
“Hey,” he said, and Leon looked up at him, his eyes back to their usual sheltered appearance. He raised an eyebrow as Cloud continued to stare at him with wide, unblinking eyes and his mouth set in a serious line.
“What,” Leon finally said, unable to stand the silence any longer.
Cloud's eyes flickered to the ground, and then back to Leon's face. “I...generally try not to hang around pussies, so you're gonna have to cut that shit out,” he said, keeping his tone even.
The pair watched each other fixedly, Cloud struggling to keep the smirk off his face, Leon wondering when the hell Cloud had recovered enough to start insulting him again. At some point, he became aware of his mouth curling into a smile, and noticed the matching smirk making its way across Cloud's lips. A soft chuckle, and Leon replied, “Only if you take your own advice. I'm gonna have to hire you to water my plants if you continue like this.”
The smirk dropped straight off Cloud's face, and Leon only laughed harder. Cloud sent him a meaningful glare. I will make you pay for that, and you know it.
“Whatever,” Leon said as his chuckled died down. He picked up the plate from the tray he'd brought, holding it in Cloud's direction. “You should try to eat something. The toast might be helpful.”
Cloud glanced at the plate impassively. “I'm not hungry,” he said mildly, passing over his half empty glass of orange juice. “I don't want to talk about this anymore, either.” His eyes quickly flicked over to Leon's, before dropping to the ground. At least not right now.
Leon took the plate and glass, placing them back on the tray. “Fine,” he acknowledged, his unspoken words hanging in the air: You can't keep silent forever, Cloud. “Then what do you want to do? I could take you outside of the asylum, if...you'd rather not be in the same building as Sephiroth right now.” Leon's voice was edged with hesitation. He knew he was messing with touchy business, and it was imperative that he tread lightly. He didn't want to offend Cloud, but... “I've already informed all of the staff here that the two of you are never to be anywhere near each other,” he added.
Cloud stared at him with narrowed eyes and a tilted head. You what?
Leon frowned sheepishly, his cheeks dusting with color as he recalled his impassioned exclamation from the night prior. “It was mostly a spur of the moment thing,” he admitted, “but still necessary. For Shiva's sake, Cloud, you passed out when he looked at you.”
Cloud looked away from Leon and up at the ceiling in defiance. A petulant sigh escaped his lips as he let his head drop. “I'm not a child, Dr. Leonhart,” he said, his voice dripping with haughtiness, “and I don't need you coddling me like I am one. And don't you have other patients to see? I know you just can’t resist my stunningly good looks, but damn. You shouldn’t neglect your job over it.” Cloud's lips remained in a straight line despite the teasing nature of his comment; he was still thinking of how he'd woken up sans boxers or a shirt.
The psychiatrist gave a dry laugh. “Ha, ha, Cloud, you're so funny. It’s Saturday,” he explained. “I tend to leave my weekends free of appointments in case of emergencies and fuck-ups such as yourself.” Nevermind the emotional break-down the blond was going through, Leon wasn't about to start taking abuse from the blond, verbal or nonverbal, without retaliation.
The blond's lips curved into a grin at the doctor's biting response. “Oh, how you wound me so, Doctor. And to think, last night you had me naked,” he drawled, “and all to yourself.” As much as he try to play it off as casual, Cloud couldn't ignore the chill that crawled down his spine at his own words, the heat that flooded his body at the images that arose.
No matter how Leon tried to fight it, a healthy blush still managed to make its way over his cheekbones. As if he hadn't wrestled with that thought, those scenarios already. “I already told you, it wouldn’t have been proper or sanitary for me to leave you in bloody clothes–“
“Whatever you say, Doctor,” Cloud cut in, nearly bursting with amusement at how uncomfortable Leon was, even though he was rather discomfited himself. “But I think I’d rather hang around here. There isn’t really much for me out there right now anyway.” His voice took on a gloomy tone as he contemplated exactly how little there was out there for him: his best friend was gone, his family—his mother, she had sent him here in the first place, and any semblance of a normal life he'd hoped to have had disappeared long ago.
Leon didn't like the idea of leaving Cloud to his thoughts for an entire day, but he didn't press the issue. “Suit yourself. I’ll be in my office if you feel the need to torment me with your presence,” he said unenthusiastically, rising from his chair and making his way over to the door.
Just before he opened it, Cloud called out to him. “Hey, Leon,” he said.
Leon paused, his hand still on the doorknob, and turned his face to the side.
“I just might have to take you up on that offer.”
Leon snorted, and Cloud grinned.
