[ It's true, to some degree, that Cloud still tends to build her up in his own mind. Maybe it's not so bad as it used to be, back when she was more imagined ideal than real, the girl next door who not only never seemed to notice him, but from whom he'd been expressly forbidden. Back then, of course, he'd known without a doubt that only realigning the stars barehanded (or some equal feat of impossibility) would impress her; she was (is) worth leaving behind everything he'd known, and maybe not all of that shine's worn off. It's certainly no easier to think of her as ordinary and unextraordinary, these days, but Cloud also supposes there are just a lot of things that go out the window, once you've seen a woman suplex a dragon the size of a house and punch an earthly god (or two) with only the leather of her gloves between her hands and any given harbinger of certain death.
So maybe he does. He puts her up on a pedestal, unnecessarily complicating the thought of her, and unwittingly foils himself in the same way that he always has, tripping over his own toes when he can't keep track of which way they're going for thinking too much. Mostly in circles.
But this - this is a change he thinks he can live with, and that (for now) is where the thinking ends. Doing he's always been much better with, anyway. Even if it's doing without thinking that almost always ends him up in the situations that precipitate more unnecessary thought - but that's only going in circles, again. There's a straight line in following just what she says, not needing to presume or assume the role he isn't quite comfortable with. Leading in the field is nothing like leading when it's just the two of them, together, and he's even less knowledge to go on, with regards to the latter.
Breaking away, again, he draws in a slow breath and takes in studious inventory of her expression - no obvious notes of displeasure to be found, there. ]
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So maybe he does. He puts her up on a pedestal, unnecessarily complicating the thought of her, and unwittingly foils himself in the same way that he always has, tripping over his own toes when he can't keep track of which way they're going for thinking too much. Mostly in circles.
But this - this is a change he thinks he can live with, and that (for now) is where the thinking ends. Doing he's always been much better with, anyway. Even if it's doing without thinking that almost always ends him up in the situations that precipitate more unnecessary thought - but that's only going in circles, again. There's a straight line in following just what she says, not needing to presume or assume the role he isn't quite comfortable with. Leading in the field is nothing like leading when it's just the two of them, together, and he's even less knowledge to go on, with regards to the latter.
Breaking away, again, he draws in a slow breath and takes in studious inventory of her expression - no obvious notes of displeasure to be found, there. ]
What now?