A/N: Another short drabble. Short things are SO much easier to write than long things!

This was requested by me.

The flower girl sat on her bed, running a pink comb through her thick, lustrous brown hair. "Hmm... quite a few tangles there..." she winced as she hit a particularly messy knot. Forcing the comb through, she sighed as she flopped back on her bed. The ex-SOLDIER in the room next to hers ought to still be sleeping for a while longer. One of the things she hadn't told him (and would probably never - it was a secret between her and her mother) was that through the Planet, she could feel the presence of people around her, and an approximate of their feelings at the moment. The blond-haired beauty - it was the only word for him, though it might seem a bit inappropriate - was feeling determined, and she would bet her church she knew what he was so determined about.

It was a long time indeed, since she'd last felt this... this passionate about something. Sure, she still seemed cheerful and optimistic and happy all the time - but no one but her knew how much of that was real or a lie. No one would know about the times she had forced herself to smile - or laugh and thank her occasional customers - or greet every single person she came across. No one else knew about the times she had felt like just giving up hope.

Recently, though... things were different.

She supposed it had started when she had - yet again - been pushed, and, losing her balance, had fallen on the wet, muddy ground on her rump. Only a thin cloth and her panties protected her from the damp and dirt, and she winced, starting to struggle up.

That was when he'd appeared.

She'd accepted the hand gratefully when it was offered, blushing as she felt the strength beneath the callused-yet-surprisingly-smooth skin. The warmth from his hand permeated into hers, and she started to form a mumured "Thank you".

Unfortunately, she'd chosen that moment to look up into his eyes.

She knew about the phrase 'a picture's worth a thousand words', but she had never seen an example before, until that. His face... it was perfect and beautiful and aristocratic and a hundred other things all at once. A strong, stubborn jaw and high cheekbones gave him the bone structure, and a perfectly formed nose and soft, slightly pink lips were the icing on the cake.

But his eyes... they were the double fudge sundae with whipped cream and chocolate syrup.

Glowing a faint azure, they lit up the dark with a shimmering blue glow, which paled in comparison to the utter colour of the irises. They were a shocking, intense blue, like all the oceans in the world or a bolt of lightning in the moonlight...

She blushed as she realized she was staring, but couldn't blink or look away, either. Luckily, it seemed he didn't notice. "Listen..." he said, his voice enough to send a pleasurable shiver up her spine. It was husky, and warm, and... filled of life. "You have to get away from here."

"Okay." She nodded. "What's the matter"

"Nothing..." he replied, running a hand through his silky hair. Helplessly, she felt her eyes go to that sun-bleached hair and wondered, distractedly, what it would feel like to bury her nose in those thick spikes.

She regained enough presence of mind to say"Would you like to buy a flower? They're only one Gil..." She hated herself for saying that. It sounded as if all she wanted to do was sell her wares... and that sounded even worse, as if she was one of the money-women who paraded the slums in their flimsy, see-through clothes and a glazed look on their faces, a look of despair and - quite often - addiction to some drug or another.

His eyes focused on her, and she fought to swallow. "Alright." He dug in a pocket and pulled out a coin. "Here."

"Thank you" she found, to her surprise, that she hadn't needed to force the enthusiasm and bounce. It came naturally. Handing the flower to her customer, she was startled when he refused it and pressed the flower back into her hands. The contact was like electricity, and she barely suppressed a gasp.

"Take it" he said with a wry, lopsided grin. "It's not like I have any use for it anyway. You, on the other hand, probably deserve a gift."

Aeris couldn't breathe for a moment, then tried to call after him. But it was no use. He was gone.

And then a few days later he came crashing down the church roof.

She smiled at that memory. He'd recovered in an astonishingly quick time - but then, so had Zack. The flower girl frowned at that, absently playing with her ribbon. She still couldn't figure out the uncanny resemblance - there were so many familiar mannerisms and the body language was almost exactly the same...

"Oh man, he's gone" she blurted out angrily to herself. How like him... to go off when she was distracted and wouldn't pay attention to him! She rushed downstairs - she'd have to take a shortcut to get ahead of him.

Lifting her skirt, she positively flew down the stairs and out the front door, barely pausing in her step to yell a quick farewell to her mother.

end