Renovating the Heart (FFXV)

I) Pull It Together

I'M NOT GONNA LIE; I HAVEN'T WRITTEN A 3RD PERSON/PAST TENSE STORY IN ACTUAL YEARS. I'VE ALSO HAD THIS IDEA IN MY NOTES SINCE I FIRST PLAYED FFXV IN DECEMBER OF 2016. CRAZY HOW THE YEARS FLY :D 

ANYWAY, THIS STORY REFERS A BIT TO MY BIGGER FFXV FIC, RAYNE DROPS, BUT YOU DON'T NEED TO READ IT TO UNDERSTAND ANYTHING AT ALL. ALSO, THERE AREN'T ANY SPOILERS FOR AT LEAST THE FIRST SIX OR SO CHAPTERS IN, SO FEEL FREE TO REST EASY AND READ THAT ONE WHENEVER 

ANYWAY, ENJOY, LEAVE COMMENTS/CRITICISMS, IDK WHAT I'M DOING AND IT'S OBVIOUS, THANKS

The tiles were cold against the pale skin of the folded legs that pressed against them. The low melody of another generic pop song echoed off the smooth white walls and an ever-so-slightly flat voice sang along quietly. The tune was occasionally covered by the satisfying sound of blades slicing through strand after strand until knobby knees were surrounded by mismatched piles of inky black hair.

Feet pressed to the floor and pushed a slender woman upward, her faded eyes catching sight of the chipped polish on her toes and her sore throat pouring out a sigh. The blinding light that beamed down from overhead cast dark shadows across her freckled face as she snipped a final section off the back and let the silver scissors clatter unto the smooth counter like a small announcement of victory. But there was no feeling of satisfaction, no sense of accomplishment. Trembling fingers tucked a piece of hair away from her tear-stained cheeks; blue-gray eyes overflowed with defeat. She still felt dirty.

Taking a deep breath, the young woman squared her shoulders and flicked the light off sharply, leaving the mess for later. Her right arm raised and scrubbed away her tears and her left hand ran through her chopped locks, pulling out little snipped bits that she had yet to brush out—if she ever got to that point. The light of the sun rising over the city slowly began to creep into her small apartment as she waited for the coffee machine to quit its gurgling. The smell of cheap grounds and vanilla-flavored cream wafted into the air, lifted by clouds of steam.

Carrying her mug to the futon across the carpeted floor, she sat down, crossing her legs and pulling the thin curtains open to watch the sun drag itself into the sky. Beams of light shot out from edges and corners of towering glass skyscrapers and rows upon rows of coffee shops, boutiques, and restaurants. Feeling some semblance of peace at last, she closed her eyes and brought the ceramic mug to her lips, taking a cautious sip of the piping hot beverage. Her eyes fluttered open again and her nose crinkled a touch. Too sweet.

The next signal to move was when the light reached over the top of an old friend's favorite book store. She had timed this a hundred times before—if she got dressed and left within five minutes of this occurrence, she would reach the Citadel with two minutes to spare. Two minutes meant she was in a hurry; no one would bother to stop for a chat. Just the way she liked it. She set her mug in a sink that had been collecting dishes for well over a week and headed to her bedroom to pull on the same clothes she brought to the heart of Insomnia nearly every day. On her way out the door, she tugged a bulky denim jacket off the door and slung it over her slender shoulder before locking up and stuffing the key into the side of her boot.

The morning air should have felt heavier with that amount of rain that had fallen over the past month or so. Puddles lined every street and water droplets clung to railings and the eaves of roofs, letting go to drip onto the sidewalk or an unsuspecting passerby's head every so often. The woman pulled her jacket on as she went, ignoring the buzzing of her phone in her pocket.

This walk was the same as it always had been over the past month—but the feeling was different. Her stomach was lead, her heart was on the verge of pounding, and her nerves were just barely quelled by her deep, steady breaths that puffed out into the air as steam. This was the day they got their results back. The day they found out if all the work they'd put in over the past six weeks was worth it. The day they were chosen as the new set of glaives.