Stay
Tifa knew, instinctively, when he came back alone from that odd and beautiful cave, carrying that rifle she'd never seen before, that she hadn't been there. Something different in the way he held himself, an emptiness that surrounded his tall frame alerted her watchful gaze. He'd been…quiet, which for Vincent was very, very quiet, the sort of profound silence that blankets and swallows the soul with its stillness.
And she began to worry then, that she would lose him, and she couldn't bear it, to lose anyone else. Oh no, she needed all of them, even him, with his cryptic silences and reserved disposition. Especially him, for she had yet to see him smile, and she needed to see him smile. So she came slipping quietly through the night, though not so quietly that he didn't hear her, she was certain, to hover in the trees just outside his line of sight, to watch him with dark eyes where he sat on a fallen forest giant.
Her heart ached for him, slumped there in the dappled moonlight, raven hair falling thickly down to shadow his face, for she too knew the pain of love and loss, and what it was to grieve. But more importantly, she understood the value of silence.
Had she spoken then he surely would have turned away, escaping into the night to seek once more his solitude. Instead she made her way through scattered moonbeams to his side, on bare feet over a carpet of pine needles, and sank wordlessly to the ground at his knee. And then, cautiously, as though he might startle into flight like a wild bird, she laid her head against the unexpected warmth of his thigh.
He tensed against her, muscle hardening to iron against her temple, and her breath stilled in her throat. She well knew that she took a great chance, she had never tried to touch him before, sensing his aversion to physical contact. But…he did not shy away. Her eyes closed, inky lashes fluttering down to feather her cheeks. Stay, she bid him silently. That's all I ask. Don't leave us. Don't leave me.
Silently she willed him to hear her, to accept what she offered, for he was one of them, he was hers, no matter how he chose to think otherwise. Silently she willed him to see that he was not alone, didn't have to be alone. No one should have to grieve alone.
After an eternity of waiting with pent breath, the tension began to ease from him, slowly, so slowly, and finally it was gone, and her heart beat once more. She released air over her lips in a soft sigh, drawing her knees up to her chest, slipping her cheek against his leg. He would stay. And there they sat, with no words between them, only the silence of understanding, until she slipped into dreams.