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Title: Secret Keeper
Characters: Sephiroth, Aeris, Cloud, OCs.
Word Count: 493
Prompt: 027 - Parents
Rating: PG-13
Notes/Warnings: One OC's thoughts about another OC in a pretty farfetched 'verse.
Her father tells the story with pride; how he was the first to hold her, all warm and soft and wriggling when she was placed in his arms, but going still immediately when their eyes met. Green eyes, like his, with just a hint of glow. The grin on his face is ridiculous when he tells it. Uncle Cloud always says her father never did look a bigger fool than when she was born, when he finally shuffled out of the delivery room with her in his arms. There's no sting to the words and her father doesn't even deny it.
It's not entirely true, though. Oh, her father did look ridiculous, everyone agrees on that, and he was the first parent to hold her, but she had been in someone else's arms first. This is the part of the story her mother tells, with a roll of her eyes and an exasperated sigh. Her memories of the birth are understandably less idyllic. Between a frantic husband's attempts to intersperse comfort with mistimed yells of 'Push!', the crackling voice on the belt radio he had forgotten to take off and sweet Gaia, the pain, it's a wonder she had time to take note of some particulars. But then, perhaps certain things were memorable.
It was the doctor who held her first, if one wants to be specific. It's the doctors who hold just about everyone first, perhaps, but they get overlooked. Only family counts at a birth. Except her doctor is family, sort of. Not really. Her godfather, her mother's friend, no blood ties there, no marriage link either, nothing but trust that her father does not share. Her godfather held her first, and not just the more usual rotating her head right or holding her up by the feet to deliver a smack to her newborn baby bottom either. She's grateful he didn't.
No, he held her properly, cradled close to his chest though she was still gooey and wet, held her securely in arms that never shook, did not even tremble at the flashing arc of silver that must have been too close for comfort. Her mother often claims to have been screaming at this point, calling her husband the jackass he was, but her godfather had been unmoved at a point when other men had wet themselves, or fled. She can picture him, almost remember it if she tries hard enough, an ocean of calm amidst a screaming mother, an overenthusiastic father and unholy battle raging overhead.
"General," he says, "most people use scissors to cut the cord."
She asked her godfather about it once. He confirmed it with a smile, but didn't add anything to the story.
Certain truths in her life are evident at this; her father can be a bit out of his head at times, her mother handles a lot from all sides; her godfather has seen more than he lets on. She sees too, and follows suit, keeping these secrets close to her heart.
Characters: Sephiroth, Aeris, Cloud, OCs.
Word Count: 493
Prompt: 027 - Parents
Rating: PG-13
Notes/Warnings: One OC's thoughts about another OC in a pretty farfetched 'verse.
Her father tells the story with pride; how he was the first to hold her, all warm and soft and wriggling when she was placed in his arms, but going still immediately when their eyes met. Green eyes, like his, with just a hint of glow. The grin on his face is ridiculous when he tells it. Uncle Cloud always says her father never did look a bigger fool than when she was born, when he finally shuffled out of the delivery room with her in his arms. There's no sting to the words and her father doesn't even deny it.
It's not entirely true, though. Oh, her father did look ridiculous, everyone agrees on that, and he was the first parent to hold her, but she had been in someone else's arms first. This is the part of the story her mother tells, with a roll of her eyes and an exasperated sigh. Her memories of the birth are understandably less idyllic. Between a frantic husband's attempts to intersperse comfort with mistimed yells of 'Push!', the crackling voice on the belt radio he had forgotten to take off and sweet Gaia, the pain, it's a wonder she had time to take note of some particulars. But then, perhaps certain things were memorable.
It was the doctor who held her first, if one wants to be specific. It's the doctors who hold just about everyone first, perhaps, but they get overlooked. Only family counts at a birth. Except her doctor is family, sort of. Not really. Her godfather, her mother's friend, no blood ties there, no marriage link either, nothing but trust that her father does not share. Her godfather held her first, and not just the more usual rotating her head right or holding her up by the feet to deliver a smack to her newborn baby bottom either. She's grateful he didn't.
No, he held her properly, cradled close to his chest though she was still gooey and wet, held her securely in arms that never shook, did not even tremble at the flashing arc of silver that must have been too close for comfort. Her mother often claims to have been screaming at this point, calling her husband the jackass he was, but her godfather had been unmoved at a point when other men had wet themselves, or fled. She can picture him, almost remember it if she tries hard enough, an ocean of calm amidst a screaming mother, an overenthusiastic father and unholy battle raging overhead.
"General," he says, "most people use scissors to cut the cord."
She asked her godfather about it once. He confirmed it with a smile, but didn't add anything to the story.
Certain truths in her life are evident at this; her father can be a bit out of his head at times, her mother handles a lot from all sides; her godfather has seen more than he lets on. She sees too, and follows suit, keeping these secrets close to her heart.
