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Ventus loves Aqua. It’s as natural as breathing. There is no question of whether he does it or not; she’s been by his side for so long that the idea of not loving seems laughable. Comparable to questioning the existence of air. The fact that it does exist cannot be changed, even if the full understanding of it might be out of reach. Same goes for his feelings towards Terra. They’re his pillars of strength.
Terra isn’t there, in Yen Sid’s Tower. Ven and Aqua will save him tomorrow. They will show him the way home.
The fact he isn’t there right now is troubling for yet another reason, other than the fact he must be hurting for the entire time spent under Xehanort’s control - Ven loves Aqua. But Aqua he loves, or, dare he think of it, loved, is not the Aqua he’s looking at.
Ventus knows a girl, maybe a woman, who is a magic prodigy, whose smiles aren’t as big as his, but regardless, they’re full of light. Knows her by the way she looks for an order, the way rules dictate her understanding of the world. Sometimes, very rarely, he dreamt of his own dreams and not Sora’s during his too-long nap on the throne; she was there, with her feathery steps and strong strikes of the Keyblade.
He doesn’t know a woman whose eyes are always wide open, taking everything in a matter of seconds. Even there, in the room provided for them by Yen Sid, this Aqua has never once stopped observing him, seeing how absently Ven is searching for a weapon on the blanket under her gaze. She must not have realized what he’s trying to do. He doesn’t intend to; he’s not scared of her, despite everything, but he is restless and can’t stop.
The first time she ruffled his hair today, the first time in ten years, it felt gentle. Fond. Like something she always dreamed of. Every other time it felt closer to pulling, like she had already forgotten how to be soft.
If Terra was there, it would be easier. He would hug both of them, make them rest in the moonlight here, their residential teddy bear, and everything would be okay.
Or maybe not. Maybe Terra is in an even worse state. Who knows.
Aqua is exhausted. Noticing it is not the matter of being good at reading people; she’s at the end of her rope. She has chosen to crumble on the floor, to make herself as small as possible, instead of laying down on the bed or at least sitting, like him. She isn’t able not to hold her Keyblade, the wall between her and the only other living being in the room, him. Ven can’t move without Aqua catching it. Her eyes are solely on him, even if she tries to not be obvious, hiding behind her forearm.
Ventus should ask. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t think it’s fear, but he can’t be completely sure, and… It feels wrong for his friend to be afraid of him in any way. But no, it feels like it’s a habit, one that Aqua won’t be easily able to overcome. A necessity of living in the Realm of Darkness.
He hopes. It will be much easier to bear.
In that state, she reminds him of somebody, of a boy who – no, he doesn’t want to think about him.
Sleep. Aqua needs sleep. If she wasn’t as alert as she is, Ven would have tried casting a spell, to help her. Is she tense because of an unfamiliar place? It’s a possibility, right? Maybe she is scared of tomorrow, too, but this gives him an idea.
“Do you,” he starts, barely moving his lips. Aqua doesn’t jump; doesn’t move. Her eyes get sharper, and her hold on the Keyblade seems to tighten, “Want to sleep outside?
They haven’t really talked since their conversation about Terra. It felt a little awkward, sure, but it was the closest to normal they would get without their third member. Ventus can’t begrudge her, who in their right mind would?
… It’s his fault for not being strong enough for not seeing another solution but to break himself apart and let others gather the pieces. He didn’t mean to, but it happened. Aqua always wanted to wake him up. In turn, it’s only fair to help with her pieces.
The motion is barely visible, but it’s there; Aqua shakes her head.
He heavily swallows.
“Should I go somewhere else?” Not to sleep, Ventus doesn’t want to sleep, ten years and he is-
Before he can blink, Aqua jumps out and grabs his arm, almost crushing it in the process. In the darkness of the night, her eyes seem to be entirely black.
“No.” It’s a hiss, almost an inhuman one. Her hold doesn’t binge. It’s a challenge. So close it’s harder to make out her features than it was before. She won’t release him, won’t allow him to go away. Ven doesn’t react to pain, it barely registers, but he puts her palm over hers. Aqua doesn’t fight this gesture. It’s not threatening.
She has changed.
“It’s me,” Ventus says softly, as kindly as he can. Aqua’s knees are on the bed, and while the position is awkward, it makes it easier for Ven to embrace her. “There’s no Light like me in the Realm of Darkness. Remember? You saved me.”
Words are words; they’re meaningless in the world that loves illusions and mirages.
He has never tried it before, not like this. His skin has always been cold. Light is him, and he is Light. He allows it to freeze him further, to get within his bloodstream and bones, to shine from within. The message of home and safety.
Aqua sobs. She unbends, almost crushing him in the process, making both of them fall to the bed instead of sitting. Her entire body weight is on his chest, breathing suddenly becomes a difficult endeavor. Ven would prefer to be able to kick Xehanort’s ass tomorrow, so he starts moving, trying to find a more comfortable position. Eventually, Aqua is holding him. Cuddling. Her nails are scratching his back, like she’s making sure he’s there. Or his Light is there. Or just Light.
He should ask which part matters more. He doesn’t.
It takes more time, but Aqua falls asleep. Not peacefully, but that way, she will be somehow rested for tomorrow. Ventus is left alone to stare at the ceiling, the only source of warmth being his friend’s body.