Dream of the Phoenix

A Dream Your Heart Makes

Chapter 11: A Dream Your Heart Makes

.o.0.o.

"Cloud..." he stirred slightly at the sound of his name, full awareness still hiding from him.

"Cloud," the voice repeated with the hint of a smile in the gentle timbre of their voice.

"You're going to have to get up sometime," it continued. Now he was aware that it was a feminine voice. He knew the voice but he couldn't place it.

After several more moments of silence he felt the blanket pulled from his upper body. As the colder air of the room hit his exposed torso he knew of only one person that could be that cruel.

"Aerith," he said without thinking. His mind and body acting on impulse, he pulled the blanket from her grasp and fell back into the mattress. "It's Saturday."

"So?" she asked with a laugh as she shook his shoulder before ruffling his mussed hair.

"Saturday," he repeated with a yawn, sitting up slightly so he could look into her jade green eyes. "It's that magical day that follows after Friday and comes before Sunday. What makes it magical is that it is the one day I get to sleep."

"Not today," she said as she put her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into her for a morning kiss. "Come on, get up, I've got breakfast made."

He only nodded at her as she released him and retreated from the room. Before the door had even closed he was back amongst the pillows, a soft snore was heard as the blankets began to settle again.

"CLOUD!!!!" Her voice once again broke through his sleep and woke him. He knew that he had to get up or face the consequences. An upset Aerith tended to do evil things, especially when her lazy husband refused to wake up.

He tried to suppress a shiver as the memories of the freezing cold water she threw on him once came to the forefront of his mind.

Stretching with a yawn thrown in for good measure he rose and staggered into the bathroom. After a quick brush of his hair and teeth and a nice warm splash of water on his face he made his way down the stairs.

Absently scratching his hair as he yawned again, he all but fell into the kitchen chair. His senses almost failing until that first wonderful cup of coffee was placed before him. Cracking an eye he smiled happily at his wife as she sat across from him, two covered plates before her. Taking a sip of her own tea she waited until he had swallowed the first reviving sip.

"So you have two choices Mr. Strife. On my left is breakfast A and my right is B. Now you can only have one. Choose wisely for one is poisoned and the other is not."

He stared at her a moment before glancing at the still covered plates.

After thinking for a moment he reached forward and took the plate on her right, breakfast B if he recalled. Taking the napkin off, he found scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and jam. With a smile he raised his fork to the eggs and took a generous amount and placed them in his mouth. After swallowing he looked at her and smiled but quickly grabbed his throat and began choking.

"You have chosen, poorly," she said as she watched him collapse against the table before breaking out in a peal of laughter. As her laughter reached his body one eye cracked open even as he began to chuckle at their childishness.

Sitting up he placed the napkin on his lap and looked over to her. She too had removed the napkin and had revealed an identical meal.

"You know," he began as he raised the toast and took a bite, thinking for a moment as he chewed. "We really do watch that movie too much."