GHOST
By Inarae
All characters and concepts come from Final Fantasy VII, and
therefore belong in entirety to Square Soft and anyone else who owns legal
rights to it, which does not include me.
Rating: PG
C&C if you want me to write more on this idea. Feedback is the fuel that keeps a writer speeding
down the highway of inspiration! Thanks
to everyone who C&C ed my previous stories.
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Cold water
dribbled down my neck, long eely trails of slimy hair covered in dissolving
mousse plastered against my forehead and seeping down my neck where it slipped
inside the stiff suit collar. Each step
up the dingy, dimly lit staircase resulted in a squishy exhalation of water
from my earnest leather shoes, as if my feet had become sponges and the weight
of each step deformed them and pushed the water out. I shifted the shopping bags to my left hand and dug in my pocket
for my key, pausing in front of my door.
It swung open before I touched it and I stumbled in, the bags lifted out
of my arms and placed carefully on a side table before I regained my
balance. And then I was wrapped in a
large warm towel, the cheap kind that actually absorb water, unlike the
expensive velvety type, although they only remain fuzzy and fluffy for one or
two washings before they get knobby and harsh, like motel towels. This one was new though, with only enough
harshness to rub warmth into my chilled skin.
A corner wiped the dribbles from my neck and gently caressed my forehead
and cheeks. A fire crackled merrily in
the rickety old black iron stove.
"Welcome
home," a male voice whispered against my ear, and I sagged back so my weight
was supported by the arms that slowly rubbed up and down my body to dry me.
"Hi
Tseng," I whispered back, and then
smiled sadly into the empty room I stood alone in. I tossed my gun on the table and headed to the bathroom with
it's yellowed tub and flickering light, to briefly soak away the chill before
wrapping myself in a knobby old towel and trying to sleep under the scratchy
wool blanket in a bed bought big enough for two.
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Author's note: Ok,
this was odd . . . how come Elena never
does what I want her to? This is after
'Entering the Turks,' and after Tseng dies in the game. However, I'm not sure if it'll actually fit
into the timeline of the rest of my stories. . .
