Author's Notes: Bad day, this came out of it.
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 and its characters do not belong to me.
He said he was leaving, couldn't explain why or for how long. What was she supposed to say? Goodbye? She had a life to live, Marlene to take care of, a bar to keep; and yet he was looking at her, expecting her to say something. So she did.
"Why?" he looked down and shook his head, avoiding her eyes.
"I need to think."
"Think here. With me. Please." She took his hand, pleading with her eyes. He could never look at her with that look on her face, the look that wants to know and to understand; the look a mother has. He looked away, pushed her away, and climbed onto Fenrir.
"Are you running away?"
"No."
His back was towards her, hunched over the bike, he might've been shaking but she couldn't tell. It was hard to understand anything he did anymore. Staying out all night, shying away from group meetings, he barely spoke to anyone. And on the rare instance that he wanted to sleep, he only woke up to nightmares; sweating, shaking, and screaming.
"Go back to bed, Tifa."
The iron horse roared to life and dust scattered on the wind, stinging her eyes but she didn't cry. Well, she couldn't remember the last time she cried, Zangan trained her hard and she didn't want to be seen as soft. Tifa stood still in that same spot just outside Midgar until the sun began to rise, the sky turned blood red then violet-blue with purplish clouds.
She'd learn to get used to watching his back. Learn to expect unreturned phone calls and messages, miss holidays, birthdays, any other day, really.
She'd learn to memorize his back.
If "you" ever read this, I offically hate you.
