Chapter Text
Aerith is warm
Not that Ienzo never had a problem with the cold, it’s part of his family, he grew up with it. The cold is home to Ienzo, and in memories both in recent and memories distant and dark, burning heat makes him grieve.
But Aerith isn’t devastating flames, the kind that seem to make Ienzo choke and tear up for a reason he can’t quite place. Aerith the warm sensation of sitting on the opposite side of a room where a fireplace is lit, or a blanket right as it comes from a dryer. Its a comforting warmth, it’s sweet and sincere.
Much like her, Ienzo notes. Aerith is gentle when she holds his hand or cups her palm on his face. Her smile is sincere, and her laugh is sweeter than he can put into words. When he looks at her he can be what is only described at “heart struck”
Aerith is warm, and Ienzo is quite fine with it.