cold turkey
disclaimer: not mine.
o1. where the shock sets in
He hates her. The replacement.
He doesn't know her name, he doesn't know her face – but he hates her none the less.
He hates what she represents, even though she herself is ignorant of that fact, thinking it only to a lesser degree. To her it is a promotion.
To Rude it is—
Change.
Difference.
It's not going to be "Reno and Rude", often known as the "inseparable duo". Instead, it's going to be "Reno and Rude" and "Elena, the whiny tagalong."
And he's sitting in the hospital café, glaring through his sunglasses at the slice of cake with a cut up smiley face on top. The fork remains untouched by the cake, distastefully left alone beside the plate and above the blue napkin.
A woman stands before him and he doesn't know who she is (he doesn't care either). But she's pretty – she has two bright eyes and hair the colour of honey. Her lips are half curled, swept up in lazy contentment and her skin is pale, but flushed – she must be nervous.
She knows who he is… right?
But he notices as she sits besides him, the chair scraping against the floor, and her wincing at the sound; she tucks her hair and darts her eyes about, smoothing out her clothes with flowing arms and red cracked nails, looking fairly presentable – it's an act.
A pretty act, but an act nonetheless.
She's put on this sickly visage so that people would underestimate her – taking her for granted, a defenceless woman.
Bitch.
But, oh, how wonderfully clever she is.
"Excuse me," she says, eyes trying to pierce his shaded spectacles, "… are you going to eat that piece of cake?"
"…"
"Can I have it?" She asks; voice soft and he surprises himself by how hard he's straining his ears to hear her.
"…" With a slight nod of his head, he pushes the desert towards her.
"Then," she hesitates, white teeth sinking into smeared lipstick, the fake mirage clear only to him. "… should I introduce myself?"
He almost thinks he could grow to like this girl, with how manipulatively polite she is. She's interpreted his silences through his guarded body gestures, learning far more than normal people do. She moved swiftly through her topics, easily linked, unfazed while seeming slightly upset for his lack of reaction.
"I'm Rude." He stiffly states.
"Hello." She gives him a smile. "I'm…" A pause, and she picks up the fork to cut the cake and finish her sentence, just before it enters her mouth—"Elena, Reno's replacement."
Silence.
Her?
He should have known.
"Well." Rude begins; his voice even. "I look forward to working with you."
Internally, he's seething.
Bitch.
He can always find a way to kill her off.
"Likewise." She states, a cold smile on her flushed cheeks, mocking him, under false pretences of humility and politeness, at the corner of her lips.
Their handshake is swift and distant, and Rude ponders for a second if she's naturally this cold-hearted or if she's suffering from a broken heart.
Their half-smiles reveal nothing.
o2. think of what you did
"Stay close to me." He murmurs, glad that he can't see his eyes – they betray him, always betray him – the anger boiling like a searing caldron. His voice is calm and neutral, and tells her nothing.
"… if you insist." Elena finally says, eyes cast on the floor, lidded eyes hiding her annoyance. "I can take care of myself, you know."
It's their first mission and she's shaking from anticipation.
"You're young." She's pretty. "You'll make mistakes." She'll do well in the future. "You'll—"
She fires at him, the bullet nearly grazing his thick skin, killing the person behind him instantly, the scream caught in his throat.
"—save your back?" She says, sighing as she rolls her eyes, hoping that her point is proven.
"… be a complete bitch." Rude corrects, more of a compliment than his intended statement – that she'll have to eventually use her femininity to get to the enemy. With a single reflex, he breaks her gun. "Guns aren't everything."
"I can take care of myself!" She snaps.
He hands her another gun – one that he had himself – weapon variety was always useful. "… only through guns. If you don't have it – how will you fight?"
There is no answer; and Rude stifles his grin as her cheeks fluster in embarrassment.
"… you take advantage of your surroundings. And make the best of a fucked up mission."
Her mouth curves into a simple "oh". It's plain logic and she feels stupid.
"But I saved your life!"
Childish too, apparently.
"… you might have killed an ally. What if you had killed me?"
"I—" Her mouth moves to protest, but he cuts her off.
"Mistakes happen. Learn your lesson and try not to repeat."
"… I'm sorry."
"You shouldn't be." He glances at the dead man, recognising him. "You neutralized the enemy."
"But you—"
"… there's always a possibility."
"You're a jerk."
"And you're just a temporary replacement. If you continue to be a Turk, then Reno will enjoy pulling your pigtails."
"I don't have pigtails. My hair's too short." She mumbles.
Rude sighs, clearly disappointed.
"… learn the use of sarcasm and metaphors. The sooner, the better."
"I hate you."
She riles up easily.
"Good to know."
He's as nonchalant as ever.
That's one step closer to her demise.
o3. get all of the attention
"What's she like, Rude?" Reno drawls, green eyes gleaming with glitter sparkling through his eyelashes.
Rude wants to say so many things; but he's a man of few words.
She's clumsy – she efficient.
She's dense – she's clever.
She's transparent – she's cunning.
She's ugly – she's pretty.
She's old – she's young.
"… she's a bitch." He finally says, the words rolling off his tongue like a bullet being fired from her gun.
He wants to say that he misses him – the booze, the pubs, the chats with him, and how he'd always have to pay and somehow find a way back to their apartments – that it's not the same.
But he doesn't.
"Heh. My kind of woman." Reno grins, a lecherous glint growing in his eyes. "So, Rude, tell me: is she hot?"
Rude shrugs.
"… pretty fuckable."
o4. let's not get selfish
She's a liar.
She bats her auburn eyes and licks her cherry lips; moves her slim white legs and clumsily attempts to get closer to him. Her cheeks redden, her transient words halt into a stutter.
And slowly, he's beginning to respond through charcoal eyes and lingering glances that catch those subtly blatant hints.
She's capturing Tseng's heart. She's breaking apart the Turks with intended mistakes, meticulously laid out so Tseng notices her.
But… it's interesting.
She's a fake – that's clear as glass from shaded lenses; but her motives are a mystery, yet to be revealed.
"… you noticed?" She asks, unsurprised, breathing at him through hazy smoke, the cigarette rests through her painted red nails.
"How could I not?" It almost sounds like he's flirting, except the notion is foolish.
"You hate me… yet act like a gentleman… constantly guide me… and yet say nothing at all…" Her smile widens like cracks on glass, the pieces not yet torn from the grand window. "What's your ulterior motive?"
To kill her off.
"… where do your allegiances lie?"
"This one." Simply, she states, crushing the cigarette underneath her feet. "… but I've got to look like a perfect screw up to further the game."
"There is no game."
"Oh, there is." Her smile is wan and eyes are cold, but she's still talking in a casual manner, like commenting on a normal day, the often boring topic of weather. "… but you refuse to play it. Instead, you're playing a different game."
"… because I'm not the one who's leading the Boss on?"
Her lips purse instead of the shameful flinch that the co-worker expected.
"… so you know." She doesn't sound upset.
"Why play that kind of game?"
"To pass the time." She replies, callous.
Bitch.
o5. in bed
"Honestly, if you hate her so much—" Reno huffs, blowing a strand of red hair in vain, noticing from the corner of his eyes that Rude had stiffened, "—of course I picked up on that, I'm you're best friend, how come you haven't killed her?"
"… needs to be perfect." Rude murmurs; thinking out yet another scheme, artistic yet brilliant.
"Who? Her or the death?" Reno comments, used to his practical methods.
"…"
"I swear: she's become a drug for you." The grin is evident through the mockery in Reno's voice.
"I'm not attracted to her." Rude states, voice calm, delivered swiftly and punctually, but not fast enough to be considered denial.
"Never said you were." The crooked grin widens like the blood spilling from a fresh wound, but the redhead still teases him.
"You're addicted."
"… to booze." Rude finishes his sentence.
"To her." Reno corrects, before moaning. "Get me out of here."
"… must I? However will you repay me?" Rude dryly humours him.
"You get free booze." Reno says, grasping for straws, any escape method welcome form the torturous hospital.
"No."
"… for a week." His partner adds, blindly.
"Tempting." Rude inclines his head, standing up. "… but no. Rest."
"You're a sadist." Reno calls as the door quietly shuts.
o6. swing the focus
He begins to dream of her.
Vivid dreams, graphic dreams, dreams that excel in something far more intriguing than a drunken hallucination.
And it is always, always…
… him who kills her.
And the sky is crimson white.
When he wakes up, his decision is made.
o7. lights are dim
Smoke surrounds her as she exhales, leaning on the balcony.
"… so?" She looks at him, cold eyes smouldering through droopy eyes and hazy fog. "Are you going to tell me?"
"… maybe when hell freezes over."
A simple 'no' would most likely suffice, but today he's in somebody else's shoes. Literally and figuratively. And acting snidely is certainly one method to infuriate the co-worker.
"… or when Reno returns. Which is tomorrow. And this, you know, is your decision." She persists, but refrains from touching him, even though she's close enough that he can feel the body heat emanating from her.
"So find out tomorrow." Then again, bluntness is always an efficient technique.
"Does that mean—"
"Who knows? I haven't made up my mind."
"You jerk!" Now she's being childish and emotional, with that anger forming in her eyes.
Does she actually think that with her burning eyes that she can mentally scorch him enough to gain the answer?
"No… that was from Reno."
"…"
"… he says 'hi'."
"I hate you." She pouts, her chin jutting. "How can anyone else not see that you're a horrible person?"
He almost opens his mouth to say that she will hate Reno far more, and will probably find a way to extort beer from her, and that out of the two… he is the nicer one – he only acts this harshly on the new recruits… but he doesn't.
He's already given her his answer; but she was too distracted to acknowledge it.
Serves her right.
o8. hands are shaking
Reno introduces himself by French-kissing her.
… however unconventional, it certainly is a memorable way to make a first impression.
"We're keeping her?" Reno winks at Elena, relishing the disgust that lay on her face. Not to mention that blush that was forming on her pale cheeks.
"… w-what?" Are Rude's shades too dark or is that a look of mortification on her face?
"Yes." The silent man nods solemnly, as if he had made a grave sin. "… we're keeping her."
"I – I'm not a pet!" Elena all but shrieks; this act far different to yesterday's performance. Today, she's acting like a spoilt brat.
"Oh, of course you're not." Reno assures her, slightly crooning; but the blatant fact remains that he's groping her while she's too busy being distressed. The smile returns and an evil glint grows in his emerald eyes. "You're something far worse."
And when the maniacal laughter that Rude has come to accept as who Reno is, has spread into the world of sound, echoed by his shaking frame, does Elena cling behind Rude's back, escaping from the redhead's clutches.
For now.
After all, while Reno is merely playing a sadistic, maddening and torturous game with her—
—it is Rude who is trying to kill her.
The blonde Turk gulps, and takes a step back, but—too late—Reno has his arm slung around her shoulders and is leading her off into the deep end. But whether it is sanity or the building, Rude cannot say.
"I hope Rude's been taking good care of you – cause I'm going to be a million times worse."
With a smirk, Rude thinks, it's good for Reno to be out of the hospital.
How he's missed this.
o9. where was it that we last left off
Elena is, Rude decides before walking into a lamppost, very funny inebriated. She says the strangest things, like the sky is made of green violets torn apart by teddy bears that were interrupted in their picnic. Why they were having a picnic, and if it had any relevance to the song, Rude will never know.
He should do it again, only this time to get her completely trashed, although she isn't far from that stage now.
However, that train of thought is completely derailed when Elena kisses him, (somehow they've reached her apartment), and tastes of Tseng.
He can only assume this, of course, through gossip and rumours, since he has never… done anything with the boss. The only reason he can validate his evidence is that it is a well know fact that only Tseng, out of the entire ShinRa Building, likes pinecones and pomegranates. An ominous combination, to be sure.
Rude considers killing her now to end this phase, but mournfully and possibly demonically declines. Better to murder her when she's sober. Much more entertaining. And less blame is put on him.
There is no logic except for the pitiful excuse that he's drunk.
And so, with an almost lecherous grin, he pushes her so that she collapses on the floor and with a short-termed moment of clarity, does Elena crawl in what Rude hopes is either the bedroom or the bathroom. As for the silent man himself, having been so accustomed to previous nights, sleeps before he hits the hard ground.
The next morning, Rude wakes to find Elena unconscious on the floor, reaching for the sofa. Rude, once he assaults the migraine hangover with no success, groans and discovers that he lies on the threshold of the door and hallway.
The fact that he remains clothed shows that he did not sleep with her.
He would exterminate her now (out of embarrassment, or anger, he would not be able to tell the difference), but he's going to throw up instead.
1o. stomach acid finds a new way to make you get sick
If she remembers that kiss, then she acts like nothing happened.
And slowly, she's advancing on Tseng, that poor bastard.
Bitch.
Hands wander, accentuating her prominent features, her lips red with the colour of sin, glossy with women's seduction. And oh, like a bat out of hell, Tseng is getting tempted.
Rude cannot stand to look at her and accidentally, accidentally steps on her foot.
Sunglasses. Sometimes he just can't see.
They also hide the grin on Reno's face.
11. pick up, pick up
He doesn't talk to either one of them. They're getting far too annoying.
Reno. Elena.
But it goes without saying, that Reno tortures her all the more, to the point that she actually does wear pigtails. Still, that conniving little—friend breaks into his apartment. One leg over the other, both feet nestling into the once glass table – naturally, Reno's break-ins, he will always break something of his – their way of friend, code of conduct, if you will. Likewise, Rude will always take a few beers, though the amount ranges from time to time.
"So, seriously, was that just me, or did I see you finally act like your age?"
"… I'm not a teenager."
"You should be." His grin widens like the sun rising into the horizon, the start of a new day. "… you've finally admitted that you've got a crush on her!"
"…" Must he reply? Of course. For Reno, there are no such things as no answers – silence implies that Reno was right, despite everything that proves the opposite. "… you're wrong. And I don't have a crush on her."
"Uh-huh…" Tilting his mop of red hair, and looking like a scarecrow, his arms massaging the cushiony sides of the couch, he casually asks, eyes of burning emerald observing his co-worker: "So what did happen that night you took her home?"
"Damn. You caught me." Rude melodramatically sighs. "We had sex."
Reno's mouth opens, flabbergasted. "Seriously?"
"No. And there is your weekly quote of House MD for you." Rude rolls his eyes, not because Reno can't see him, but because he can roll his eyes as many times as he likes and no one will notice. He refrains from this from his fear of catching wrinkles.
"… you're eviller than I am." Reno huffs.
"Only in small doses." Rude gives him the barest hint of a smile.
"But we're cool, yeah?"
"… yes. Only if you don't go on at it."
"Oh, of course, you can trust me." Reno nods enigmatically, far too smooth and charming and charismatic to be believed. "Speaking of which, we have a mission tomorrow. Fun stuff, eh?"
"…"
And with that crafty look in his eyes, Rude knows that he's going to pick him apart like a vulture feasting on remnants of scorching meat, because that's exactly what Reno does, once his claws have sunk into interesting information.
And nothing is quite as interesting to Reno as Rude's unfortunate love life.
12. heart is racing
"… you're still mad at me?" She pouts, sucking on her latest addiction – the pocky stick. It's a mediocre way, but she's trying to give up cigarettes.
Pity she'll get fat instead.
Oh wait. No. Best not to tell her that.
"Still playing that game?" He says, ignoring her previous statement. And as predicted, she plays along.
"Yep. I'll even start a new game with you: one that concerns the game I'm interested in right now."
"Seducing the boss?"
"Yeah. If you want to put it that way. So, you in?" Elena asks, pulling out a notebook.
"What's in it for me?"
"Hmm…" The pocky hits her lips, smudging them with chocolate. "… you get to call the shots."
She dies. Too obvious.
"… you call them first, then I'll see if they're satisfactory." Rude mutters.
"Fine. The next time Tseng and I are on a mission, together, I bet he'll ask me out. If I win… you have to stop treating me that way. If I lose… I'll spend a night with you." At his silence, she raises an eyebrow. "Oh, please, I know you're interested in me."
"… you're wrong."
"We'll see." She tuts, before clearing her throat; clearly looking for a mix of business and pleasure from the project of gambling. "So, are they satisfactory? My terms?"
"No." She had expected as much. "If I win… you keep on eating the same amount of pocky after you've finished your cigarette addiction. If I lose…" He hesitates, not knowing what to say. "… I'll bring you flowers as a peace treaty."
"Okay… fine." She says, face pale but flushed, happy to strike a deal. "I'll hold you to it."
They shake, and Rude grabs her arm for far too long before he lets go.
"Why are you doing this? Putting up this act, playing these games…"
"I'm only human, Rude. I can't stay away from some sort of sin, one way or another."
And when she leaves, he stares after her, his hand still moulded to the shape of her arm.
13. testosterone boys
It's Reno's fault.
But it's Rude's fault for refraining to bash his head in and knocking him out unconscious so he doesn't do any serious mistakes, or receive any serious injuries.
Still. It's Reno's fault.
If the 'fault' was a cake that had to be eaten, then Reno would have three thirds of the slice, and eat it one ravenous gulp, while Rude had a minute nibble. Cakes weren't his things, and Elena deserves some of the blame anyway.
"Hey, Rude." Reno says, eyes greener and far more malicious than the grass that surrounds him, his smile widening as they slip into their old habits, their old routine that helped pass the time. Watching Elena's assets would be helpful, except that the silly girl isn't here – therefore, they return to their original method. And Reno prances, not moving, like a tiger poised to kill. "Who do you like?"
Pick a name. Any name. Like pulling a rabbit out of the hat. Although, the one time he did, he accidentally strangled it.
He needs to think… not mourn for the long deceased floppy eared bunny.
"What are you getting so embarrassed about?" Reno teases him, before sounding impatient. He doesn't like playing hard to get, platonically when referring to his best friend, because Reno will admit, that Rude can be stuck up. "Come on? Who do you like?"
A name.
El—a.
A.
A name that ends or has an 'a'.
What was that girl's name? The one that has exceptionally prominent assets?
"… Tifa." There. A name. A simple name. Picked out of a royal flush.
There. Now let's hope that it didn't make him run for his money.
"Hmm… That's a tough one." Reno comments. Rude wonders why. It's just a name. There could be a million Tifas. Because, Tifa is an exceptionally generic name. And Reno dramatically sighs, his purpose only to infuriate Rude. His purpose is complete since he can hear his silent partner grinding his teeth. Reno makes a mental note to ask how he's coping with stress. "But, poor Elena. She… you…"
Is he insane?
Oh. This is Reno we're talking about.
The answer is indefinitely yes.
"No, she likes Tseng." Rude replies, pleased that he was able to keep his snide tone out of his voice.
He didn't. Additionally, he sounded angry and jealous. But Reno has no intention of telling him that.
"I never knew that!" Reno gasps, high on his gossiping information. Gossiping is just another form of blackmail. "But Tseng likes that Ancient…" He points out, warming his hands up in glee. He is the champion matchmaker, despite never actually succeeding in such.
In truth, Reno was about to lecture Rude about how to win somebody's heart, and how he's got to stop being blind to these sorts of things.
But no.
The bitch ruins it, arms akimbo and flailing like a chocobo from the king of chocobos himself.
So Rude skips out on yet another lecture that Reno successfully fails to give and instead, participates in a pointless fight.
14. any boy you'll ever meet
He's given up on trying to poison her coffee.
It's either the Mako that's protecting her, or she's giving it to Hojo who's giving it to his test subjects.
"Rude. Stop glaring at me."
"…"
"… you're glaring." She snaps, smoothing out her dress, before methodically preceding to her makeup. "I know you are." Again, silence. "Call it a sixth sense."
"Who are you talking to?" Reno says, arching his eyebrow. "You've been ranting to yourself for the past ten minutes."
"… funny. I could have sworn—"
"How come I didn't know about this bet of yours?" Reno asks, playfully putting on the innocent act.
"Which one?" She replies, just as innocently, voice sweet and sugary.
"Ooh. A gambler girl. I like that."
"What? Our one night stand not enough for you?" She tucks her chin, her eyes big and wide. "I'm not a gambler… I just like creating chaos. Games. I'm sure you know that – you break far more hearts than I'll ever make bets."
"Hmm… you have a point." Reno concedes, laying off her for the moment. "I'll leave you to your demise."
"You mean you're not going to stop me?"
"Nah. You're young, you're stupid, and you're a Rookie. I'm not going to take the fall." He turns to go, omitting that somebody else already was, ensnared in her trap. "… you've just got to play your cards right."
"Again, not gambling, just a possibility of 'what if's and the consequences." Elena remarks, doing her lips, ignoring the fact that the door had shut, perfecting her mask before speaking. "… I know you're there Rude."
"…"
"Talk to me."
"… don't you like talking to yourself? I'm sure you had a wonderful conversation."
"You're getting far too snarky. Confident, are you?"
"… absolutely."
"We've got a mission coming up. Me and him. We'll see."
"… just don't be stupid afterwards."
"What ever do you mean?"
She blinks and she breathes, checking the perfection that is layered on her face, before closing her eyes.
This time, she knows he's gone.
She checks the coffee and throws it out the window.
She's never liked that vile stuff anyway; just grabbed it for image.
15. hold a lover close
The PHS rings, and Rude can nearly taste the glee on her face, her cherry apple lips.
"You have to be kidding me…"
"What did I tell you?" Triumph is reaching him in the sorry form of guilt.
"And you accepted?"
"Duh!" Of course she would. She wants to screw with his head. Why would she refuse? "Not like I wanted to lose the bet."
"… doesn't count unless he actually takes you out."
"…"
"What's the problem?"
"… he's, um. Injured?"
"Your fault?"
"Why so interested?"
"He's my boss."
"Our boss. But no. I don't carry a sword. Nor can I hold one."
"Sephiroth?"
"What do you think, dipshit?"
"When will you stop verbally abusing me?"
"…"
Rude sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Bring him back. We'll look after him."
"What should I do?"
"After you bring him back?" He attempts sarcasm; see if she's gained a better handle of it. "… go seek the wrongdoers out and punish them. Otherwise, that's just blasphemous."
"… you're a bloody genius." Ah. So she's mastered catching sarcastic comments then?
Excellent.
16. makes you sweat
That stupid bitch.
"… you're messing with me."
"No shit, Sherlock." Reno says, compressing his mouth into a thin line. "She's actually asked for your advice and took it."
"Has she not learned how to pick up sarcasm yet?"
"… you talk very little. When you do, it's hard to detect those little ironies."
"…"
"Go on. Play the knight in shining armour and save that damsel in distress."
"… Disney?"
"I get addicted to cheesiness. Those characters have excellent pickup lines and innuendoes. All those princesses, never to be seen the same way again…"
"You're raping them."
"… mentally. They can't sue if it's never happened."
Rude ponders, and then frowns.
"… do you have a scarf I can borrow?"
"Will mittens do?"
17. harlequin girls
She's nearly blue by the time Rude finds her, shaking and quivering, the snow drifting on top of her.
Oh. Oh look. She's becoming a snowwoman. Rude's always wanted to see actual live snow people.
"Give me a break…" He mutters, digging her out, his mittens keeping his hands nice and dry.
She's far too cold, and for a second, Rude worries.
… now is not the time to leave her here.
Why did she do this?
To prove her dedication to the team, or to prove she's an idiot?
Only idiots take up the mantle of being a Turk; so honestly, she's done them proud.
Pity he only feels guilt and that it's his responsibility.
Alright. Maybe he'll admit it. His true feelings…
"I'm the idiot. And maybe you don't deserve to die. Not just yet."
While he attempts the slow trek to the Icicle Village, he wonders when did she begin to fit in and feel like part of the team, instead of breaking them apart.
Further mumbled curses and a lot nearer to the village does Rude question when did he begin to actually… like her?
18. hope to god he was worth it
When she awakens, there's nothing more threatening than seeing Rude, sunglasses still there, with a hot bowl of soup at his side.
"… I lost the bet."
"Is that all you think about?" Rude enquires, bringing the tray closer towards her.
"Nah. But you make lame conversation; so really, I can only talk to you about business. No small talk or off the clock stuff."
"Reno does."
"… he's a heartless lady-killer who will never have a steady girlfriend. So, really, you're all he's got."
By the time she's finished eating the soup, she's suddenly aware that he's watching her quite intensively.
"What? Something on my face?" She says, wiping her mouth, setting the tray on the nearby table, checking for temperature and whatnot.
"No. I'm just wondering: how much of it was an act?"
"Excuse me?" She nearly splutters, reddening. She's healthier, true, her skin is in a much more vibrant colour, and her cheeks have flushed red, but this is Elena, and she loves to play games.
"Why did you go and follow them? Why did you take my advice?"
She is silent, her face the exact colour of shame.
But Rude notices.
Her eyes aren't cold. Those amber orbs are no longer hidden behind reflective mirrors.
Her reason is personal, real.
"… was he really worth it?" He quietly asks, sitting beside her.
And she looks at him.
Just looks.
And Rude wonders if his shaded glasses have been hiding this all along.
"He wasn't. But," and she lifts her hands, reaching for him, his glass shield, "… you were."
And she removes his shield, robbing of him of protection, revealing to her his traitorous eyes, betraying him to the very end.
Without a second thought, his lips met hers.
19. a better love deserving of
Reno was right.
Reno was always right.
… except for the times he was wrong, which was nearly as often as he was right.
He had been attracted to her from the very beginning.
And she, Elena, brown eyes, fair complexion, red lips and yellow hair, under her guise of deceit… was real. He had seen through from the start, and like a drug, through all the highs and lows she gave him… he had become addicted.
Now it too far late for her to leave without leaving a mark on his heart, because it was almost like she had become part of his blood. And she had no intention of leaving.
"I wish I knew how to quit you." He murmurs in her ears, almost fierce, angry and possessive; except there was tenderness in his voice, raw and painful, overflowing. Like a drug, she'll never, ever, get out of his system.
He's only human. They make mistakes. And perhaps, he had made the greatest mistake of all time.
"Do you?" She asks, curious. "If you were being honest?"
But that didn't mean he regrets it.
"… no."
It's been a weird and wonderful courtship.
"Thank you. Oh, and Rude?"
"…"
"You have lovely eyes."
2o. sweetie you had me
She stands on top of a burning city, smoke surrounding her along with the blood, sweat and tears of others. Turning around, she looks at the two men who stand beside her, one with wrinkled and naturally scruffy clothing; the other, somewhat more organized, despite the torn clothing.
"Hey. You guys. I was a good Turk, right?" She asks them, unsure.
"Damn straight. You somehow got his love life together." Reno grins, walking a little faster to meet her.
"…"
"For that, Reno," Elena smiles, pleased by his comment – and for his honesty, she hopes. "You get to best man if we ever tie the knot."
"You're thinking that far ahead?"
"… nah. We could still split up, still, the offers there: if we ever come to that." Elena winks, giving a flirtatious glance at Rude.
Reno only laughed. "You're a lucky man, Rude."
"… I would hope so." Rude concedes, inclining his head.
"So, honestly: what are we going to do from here?"
"You know… I've got no idea."
"I see…"
"…"
"Okay! Let's make resolutions!" Elena claps her hand, acting as the optimistic schoolgirl.
"Why?" Reno cocks his head to one side.
"… to begin the 'how to save our lives' thing?" Elena replies, slightly baffled. "It's something to do, a goal, if you will. I'll start: I'll… stop betting."
"Hm… I'll… stop being a flirt." Reno nods his head, knowing that his reputation precedes him. "Rude, your turn."
"… booze."
"Eh, it'll have to do. You'd have an angry girlfriend if you said you'd lay off her." As always, their co-worker is full of innuendos.
And so they walk, in silence, towards the hope and dream of freedom – away from ShinRa.
"Uh, question here, Elena." Reno pipes up as they see the beginnings of a plain that is not Midgar, city fallen into the damned past.
"Mm?" She mumbled, reaching for Rude's hand, or at least a glance beneath his shades.
"How do you think he'll propose?"
"… by offering me sunglasses."