Room 206, Monday Evening

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine took a seat on the floor and smiled at Naminé.

"So," he said, indicating that she join him on the floor (as floors are really quite comfortable places to be, honest), "let's take a look at that sketchbook of yours."

[For the girlfriend. Backdated due to extreme dual-wield availability suck. Or something.]

Comments

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

"It isn't much," she demurred quickly, seating herself across from him and adjusting her skirt. "Don't expect that they're going to be better art than the ones you've already seen. They aren't. I'm not particularly skiled, you know."

[dark_slippy_thing]

"I suppose you shall have to let me be the judge of that, hm?" He leaned forward so that he could see better. "Granted, I know very little about art, but from what I've seen, I'm rather inclined to say that you are rather skilled indeed."

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

Naminé flushed, still holding the sketchpad closed on her lap. "I'm not. It's ... my shapes aren't proportional or accurate or anything like that. But ..."

She considered for a moment. "The mood seems right. It all has a very simplistic sort of air to it. The texture seems to fit."

And then she laughed, a little awkwardly. "Perhaps that's what all artists say, to compensate for their shortcomings."

[dark_slippy_thing]

"If the only one who really sees the shortcoming is the artist herself, is it really a shortcoming, or is it something more like modesty?"

Valentine knew nothing of modesty. Really. But it was certainly a very compelling point. Really.

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

"It could be that you're blinded by affection for me," she noted. "And I daresay I'm not the only one who sees the shortcoming. Perhaps everyone else is too polite to say what they are really thinking."

She reached for the cover of her sketchpad, still hesitant.

"Do you ... promise not to laugh?" she asked softly.

[dark_slippy_thing]

"I absolutely will not laugh, I promise."

Laughing at the sketchbook that brought him back from nothingness would be just plain stupid, really.

"And I liked your art before I even really knew you," he pointed out, motioning to the crayon drawing of himself on the wall.

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

"It's a picture of you," she smiled faintly. "Egotism certainly helps it along."

She flipped the cover open and found a page that seemed right before handing the book to Valentine. Wondering if he realized how fragile she felt.

"Here," she said. "This seems like a good place to start."

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine tilted his head slightly at this drawing.

He didn't know this girl with the red hair in the drawing, did he? No, he was fairly certain that he didn't.

"Why here?" He smiled over to her. It really was a good drawing.

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

"I suppose this is where all things start," she mused softly. "For me, at least."

Could he tell? It was strange to show her to him. But it seemed like he should know her, know of her at least.

Here, look at who I really am.

Was.

She's nothing like me but I think she has my eyes.

I suppose, really, I have hers ...

[dark_slippy_thing]

He looked back at the drawing once again. He studied it, tried to soak it in. She really was familiar. There was some sort of softness to her eyes that he just couldn't quite--

"Kairi," he ventured. "Is this Kairi?"

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

He could see it.

He'd remembered her name?

Naminé wasn't sure why she was tearing up.

"Yes," she said, nodding slightly and reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear again. Hoping she didn't sound as vulnerable as she felt. "Kairi. I thought that you ... you deserved ... to see."

Her? Me? Us?

What could he possibly be thinking, now, staring at the girl she wasn't?

[dark_slippy_thing]

"Hm." He looked back at the drawing for a moment, studying it thoughtfully. She really did look so very different from Naminé, but at the same time, there was a sort of reflection, there.

"She has your eyes."

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

She flushed. "I suppose it's more accurate to say I have hers."

She looked down at the picture again. "Can you ... see it, then?"

Our connection?

What she has that I never will?

That I was still her, when she was on that island?

[dark_slippy_thing]

"It takes a bit of looking," Valentine confessed, then looked at Naminé once again, "but I can see you in her, if that's what you mean. There's a sort of... soft... something about you both."

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

"She contains everything I can ever be," Naminé said softly, not meeting his eyes. "I'm only her echo. She's ... the one with a heart."

She's real. She's whole. She could love you in return.

[dark_slippy_thing]

"I don't know her, I know you," Valentine said, putting a hand to her chin gently. "Heart or no, it makes no difference to me. An echo isn't quite the same as the voice that causes it... So it stands to reason that the voice is different from the echo in turn."

He was smiling.

"You two are similar, but not the same. I prefer the echo I know to the stranger she came from."

Valentine was very good at wrestling back his attention-deficit 'what's next huh huh huh' issues for the sake of being serious and reassuring, sometimes.

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

Naminé's breath caught, and she swallowed, hard, before leaning in.

Because there was nothing she could say that would come out right, and she needed to be kissing him right now.

[dark_slippy_thing]

Looking at her sketchbook. Kissing her. Somehow, the current activity seemed far more important all of a sudden than the pad of paper that was between them.

Yes, this was good. This was very good.

I love you too. Really, no need to break the kiss to say it right now. We both already know. Your lips taste quite divine tonight. Perhaps because you are a sort of divinity in your own right, aren't you?

Kissing a goddess. I feel almost unworthy.

[palestshadow.livejournal.com]

Naminé wriggled closer, breathing him in.

The pictures can wait. Everything can wait. I feel whole when you kiss me. Maybe I'm borrowing your heart. Maybe I've stolen hers without her noticing. Maybe hearts are overrated. Maybe I'm only fooling myself, but if this isn't real, then I think reality would destroy me.

I show you my scars, my failings, my incompleteness and you never see it, never believe it, or maybe ... you don't mind it at all.

You are the strangest, most wonderful thing I've ever known.