You're terrible, I love you so much.

Headphone does not own.

Cloud stared at the grey, boring ceiling.

Cloud stared at the colorless walls.

Cloud stared at the IV running from his arm to the small bag on the metal poll next to his bed.

Cloud stared at everything but the black-haired sobbing woman beside him.

He didn't want to realize anything that was going on.

He wanted to go back to sleeping, go back to not caring about when visitation hours were, and who could visit and how long they could visit before a nurse would walk in and ask how they were.

All the nurses talked too much about everything and anything. Gossip spread too quickly from they're lips and Cloud could hear it all.

And all Cloud wanted to do was not hear a thing about anything.

He didn't want to hear about how his health was important.

He didn't want to hear about how much blood he lost and how long it would take to get it back to the normal level that it should be at.

He didn't want to hear anything.


Leon waited outside the filthy off-white room.

He had a cigarette drawn to his lips, unlit of course.

Leon, with his cigarette and lack of thoughts.

Leon, with black polished boots and 4 too many belts.

Leon, the one with the less-then dirty hands, and the one with a dog at home that's probably barking it's face off.

There were small ear-plugs in his ears, to block out the awkward silence with a bit more pleasant one. The ear plugs were there to block out the sound of the squeaking AC down the hall and the cries from a patient on the other end.

The earplugs were there to block out all of the terrible things he kept saying to himself, saying to others.

He didn't want to hear it.

He didn't want to hear anything.


Tifa, inside the room, sat in her guest's seat.

She sat convulsing in her newest sobbing fit, saying things that were so hurtful yet true.

She didn't want to believe what had happened.

She didn't want to believe that her childhood friend had an actual reason to have the reddening bandages on his neck and wrists.

And above all else, she didn't want to believe that she drove him to such madness. It stung so terribly to know that her constant caring, her insistent blabbering of 'are you sure you're fine' and her persistent mouthing of 'I'm here if you need to talk' after Cloud's parent's deaths had caused such a physical assault.

The black haired woman wanted to not believe that simply caring -simply loving- could cause such a madness to brew in his mind.

She didn't want to know that it was all her fault.

She didn't want to know she was the thing that almost pushed him over.

The sobs she tried to force to a stop were heard all the way down the hall.

The next day approached slower then usual.

The next day was the day that Tifa decided she would never talk to Cloud again.


Leon was there at the time.

Leon was there wanting for all of the talk of the nurses about how Tifa was a 'trigger' to Cloud's depression to go away.

Leon's brown eyes wondered over the walls for what seemed to be the hundredth time, and he wanted to leave. His foot tapped lightly onto the linoleum for what he knew was the 27th time, out of a nervous habit, and he wanted to use said feet to steadily walk out of the asylum.

But no, he had to be there for Tifa, just like how she had been there for him when Rinoa had broken up with him.

Though he vaguely recalled never sobbing into her shirt when he couldn't see the one he used to love, he never remembered asking her to tell himself it was okay.

He never recalled hugging her to the point that it seemed sad, almost desperate. The hug vaguely felt like she was trying to hold onto her sanity by trying to press it onto him.

Like she was draining him.

The brunette never liked thinking this way.

He didn't like it at all.