A/N: I've finally written CloudTifa! (: Even if it is just a little drabble, I'm proud of myself; can you tell? But it's my first time writing them as a pairing—though it's more Tifa introspective with a CloudTifa slant—so the characterization might be crooked.

Set post-AC.

Disclaimer: Silly readers, Final Fantasy VII is for Square!


not then, now—

Their bodies fit.

They lie on the bed, eyes on the ceiling, her head on his chest and his hand at the small of her back. They breathe. The world outside is fresh with the smell of greenery, and bright with the spring sun, and filled with the laughter of children. It's a new day. For once in her life, Tifa feels like she can just simply be—like there isn't some destiny awaiting her, or a pair of shoes to be filled, or chores to be done. Like she could lay with Cloud and everything will be all right. She knows it will be. Fate is done with the two of them; the Planet won't need to be saved by them; they can rest easy without the weight of death sitting on their shoulders.

She always felt like there was something more out there. Of course there was—she grew up in Nibelheim, which was the worst case scenario of a one-chocobo town. There was all of the peace, all of the boring, without any of the hidden scandal. At least that was what she'd always thought. And then there was Sephiroth and fire, which made her life before seem desirable.

Cloud had never…She'd never thought much of him, then, even after she came to Midgar. Her life became so busy. It was a long time before she could think of anything besides hate or taste anything except bitterness on her tongue. By the time she realized that a life filled with hate for Shinra wasn't worth living, she was involved with AVALANCHE, and Cloud had been dead for a long, long time. He was another notch on her bedpost of regrets.

But things were different now. She'd faced her shadows, lived through two would-be apocalypses, and now…And now…

Slowly, ever so slowly, she sat up and traced the line of Cloud's cheekbone with her thumb. He cracked his eyes open. Once upon a time, he might have reached for his sword, and it touched her heart to know that he trusted her enough not to. Instead, he smiled.

"Good afternoon," she whispered, and ruffled his hair. "You didn't sleep for very long."

"Mhm. Do you want to stay here longer…?"

For a moment, Tifa considered the dishes in the sink and the sand on the floor and what she would have to cook for dinner, before shaking her head and smiling. "Of course."

And lay back down.


feedback appreciated!