Wilted Rose
Summary: Vincent's rather pessimistic musings on Valentine's Day.
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or the characters. It is the property of Square-Enix.
Red.
The color of passion. The color of love. The color of blood. Red was the color of paper hearts and roses, teddy bears and cards, with a few lines of tacky poetry written inside them to express the feelings of the giver to the recipient.
Or at least, that was the idea. Vincent sat on one of the rooftops in Edge, watching the happy couples hold hands, laugh, whisper, kiss, caress. There would be marriage proposals tonight, and bold declarations of love in the form of love notes and flowers sent from secret admirers.
Ironic, so the name was his namesake, and yet, he was forever alone, since his dear Lucrecia was gone, her body encased in crystal for the rest of eternity.
The former Turk had never been a big fan of the holiday, even when he had been a mortal man. He thought the holiday was pointless and silly; a fake holiday created just to sell candy, cards, and flowers, just like Christmas seemed only all about presents.
Ah yes, Valentine's Day…it was wonderful when you were in love, miserable if you weren't. And Vincent was very much alone. This day held no meaning for him, since the one he'd so dearly loved was no more. As he pulled his crimson cloak tighter around him to keep the biting chill at bay when the wind suddenly picked up, he silently wondered how many lonely, wretched souls would make their way to the 7th Heaven bar tonight to drown their sorrows with vodka or bourbon. For many, Jack Daniels would be their only companion this night.
All his friends had decided to get together and celebrate this holiday by trading gifts. He wanted no part of it, and they seemed to respect his wishes, since the memories of Lucrecia were deeply painful for him. He winced felt a heavy sorrow stir in his heart at the thought of her. Marlene and Denzel had made cookies, with the ever-hyper Yuffie overseeing their progress. He quietly snorted in annoyance at the thought of the young ninja. She always was loud and irritating, but the children seemed to adore her, since she'd give Marlene piggyback rides and keep Denzel enthralled for hours on end with tales of their exploits and adventures.
He paused and looked down at the street and his superior eyesight spotted something red on the black, rain-soaked pavement. Curiosity getting the better of him, he leapt gracefully off the roof and bent down to pick it up. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a single red rose, wilted and trampled; forgotten and cast aside.
He held it up to examine it, and a single petal fell away and fluttered to the ground, like a single drop of bright blood. He cradled it for a second, and then crushed it in his clawed hand, the bronze making soft metallic noises as he flexed his hand into a fist, and then he unclenched it and watched as the petals scattered in the night breeze and blew away.
A bitter smile graced his pale, handsome face as he watched the scattered petals float away.
Fin
A/N: Yeah I know, this was rather depressing and gloomy and dark. I know this isn't particularly good, but this plot bunny just hopped in my head, and I would think that Vincent would feel like I do about this fake, stupid holiday. The guy isn't exactly a ray of sunshine. Valentine's Day, bah humbug! I know this is a day late, but oh, well.
Well anyways, tell me what you thought, please R&R. Constructive criticism is welcome too, as always.