The dark man walked along the shore, staring out, unseeing, over the surf which rolled, mirroring the darkness of the night sky. It was late. His shoes crunched lightly over sand painted silver by the moonlight, contrasting against the soulless gold of the metal on his feet. This was another world, a shadow world of black and silver, moonlight and starlight, ethereal, and somehow forgiving. He did not belong here. Nothing about him fitted, a ragged shape interrupting the precision of the night's shadows. He welcomed that feeling in some strange way, as it merely reinforced that he was a wanderer, man and monster, who belonged nowhere. There was a strange, bitter peace in that after all these years.
He paused where a pale spit of sand protruded slightly into the rolling surf, and closed his eyes as time seemed to pass around him. He stood, unmoving, an island of timelessness in lone splendour on a secret beach. This world of shadows was one which remained unknown, untouched by those he travelled with - the fighter with the wine-coloured eyes, the ex-SOLDIER haunted by dreams of a past which wasn't his... none of them wandered this late, particularly not when they were exhausted after a day of splashing and laughter. He had watched, rather than taking part, knowing that the time would come when he would leave them all behind, and their memories of the demonic gunner would be washed away, and he would continue his life in a world separate from theirs. He meditated a while, painstakingly reminding himself of every detail of that sin, every play of light on her hair, the tinkling chime of her laugh, and the burning pain of the bullet as his old life ended.
The memories of his crime relived, the pain fresh, his penance paid for one more night, his eyes flickered open again, and the slow stroll continued, not more purposeful now, but somehow more assured, his gaze and his mind now back in this world and no longer lost in the past. He continued, staring out over the familiar pearly expanse, stretching with the inky blackness to the horizon. He knew this place now, having walked it every night, and that was why he froze when he noticed the blot on that flawless plain. It felt almost like a violation - this world was his, this place was his, these hours were his, for him to remember in, for him to seek his solitude, and now there was someone intruding on them without permission. He shook himself - such thoughts were nonsense, and, much as he wanted to, he had no right to go and grab whoever it was, ask them what the hell they thought they were doing interrupting his private time, and then throw them into the ocean. A soft sigh, barely a breath, escaped his lips, and he altered his course. His original intention had been to avoid them entirely, to return to the inn, but his feet were drawn inexorably closer to the incongruous patch of darkness on the sterling sand.
Though he moved with predatory grace, he was still wary, ready to bolt as his gaze, the red of spilt blood, studied the silhouette, attempting to identify it. A gentle breeze disturbed the air a little, caressing the pale chalk of his skin, and the gunman's concealed lips curved up in the imitation of a smile as, beneath the delicious tang of the salt, he sensed more than smelled a familiar bittersweet warmth - the tang of ginger and sweet cyanide. He straightened, his cloak swirling heavily around him in a combination of the motion and the playful breeze as he walked deliberately up behind the engineer, and sat down on the blanket beside him. Reeve did not react, to begin with, staring up at the moon, but slowly he lowered his gaze, turning a little to look at the dark man sitting silently beside him.
Of course, it was Reeve who spoke first "I'm sorry... I get the feeling I'm intruding..."
Vincent paused, while it was true that Reeve was intruding, at least from his perspective, he found he didn't mind anymore, not now he knew who it was. He couldn't say that he would have had the same attitude to Cloud or Tifa though, and Yuffie would have been in the sea without a second thought. "...Not at all." his voice was low, the bass almost warm, with a slight note of what might have been levity. His unnatural eyes reflected some of the starlight, sparkling, and Reeve couldn't help but feel, though the other's lips were obscured by the cowl of his cloak, that Vincent might have been smiling. The darker man offered the hint of a shrug "I understand the need for solitude, however, if you will forgive the personal nature of this remark, I do not believe it is necessarily in your nature to crave it as I do." he waved his hand dismissively "Forgive me, it is merely the observation of one whose life, many years ago, depended upon noticing such things."
The engineer smiled weakly "...I suppose I should have known better than to think an ex-Turk might not think there was something strange about me sitting here alone, particularly given the hour."
Again, a shrug "I can hardly judge anyone else to be strange, and the hour is of little import. Space can be required at any time, and it is often better for all concerned if it can be found when needed. If you will pardon the boldness of the suggestion, however, sometimes the best solitude can be found with another."
Reeve blinked a little, confused "...I'm sorry, that seems to somewhat defeat the purpose..."
Another smile, still hidden behind the fabric, though this time it showed in his eyes. "It all depends on the reason for seeking solitude in the first place... a man who is used to being around people, who is a social creature, should not isolate himself so starkly. Ostracisation will not help with whatever troubles you, Reeve, and I would suggest that if it is merely peace you seek, you might find companionable silence more soothing than the empty rolling of the waves."
Reeve sighed, and once more gazed up at the sky "You're right... it's just that the days here are so busy, and the heat is so heavy it feels like I'm moving through treacle. It's suffocating. I like people, but... I find it easier to deal with certain kinds of people, and though I am here with those who are to all intents and purposes my friends, I still find it... difficult to be with them so constantly, in such an unfamiliar environment."
Vincent nodded "I understand. After thirty years with voices in my head as my only companions, constant exposure to what I believe Yuffie continues referring to as 'holiday spirit' is overwhelming. And needless to say, I am not a fan of the heat."
Reeve had to bite back a laugh at that last statement. No, somehow the image of Vincent in his trademark leathers and his heavy cloak did not quite match that of the typical beach-bunny.
The gunman paused, then gently touched Reeve's bicep "You are welcome to share this with me, if you wish. It is not the traditional way to spend a summer vacation, but I enjoy your company, and I suspect that perhaps my own might do you good."
The magnitude of that offer was not lost on the Director, and he paused, then nodded, his velvet-brown gaze once more resting on the man of light and shadows who sat beside him "I would like that, thank you..." he replied, a shy smile tugging on his own lips once more. The pleasure in the company was mutual - he felt comfortable with Vincent, relaxed, and it was nice for once, to not have to play a role, to act a part for others' pleasure.
Vincent nodded, then reached up, and Reeve stared as he unbuckled his cloak and lay it out on the sand. Though the stare had originally been one of shock, it quickly strayed down avenues Reeve did not wish to explore with the dark man, as he admired quite how well the leathers fitted the slim body. Vincent's eyes sparkled with wicked amusement as he lay back on the swathe of red material to stare up at the stars. After a moment, Reeve scrambled to imitate him, hoping the hesitation had not been too obvious. He had to admit that watching the sky like this was more comfortable, and the sense of Vincent at his side was somehow a reassuring anchor in this half-world of moonlight and shadows.
They had been lying that way for barely half an hour when the sky changed, and the stars became obscured by dark, fat clouds which scurried across the moon. Reeve sat bolt upright, beginning to gather his things, then turned and stared when he realised Vincent was not doing the same, on the contrary, the gunner was wearing a lazy half-smile, and staring up at the threatening sky, his hands still folded behind his head. His lack of concern made the engineer slow, and he spoke, hesitant "...Vincent, it's going to pour down... you-... we'll get soaked..."
Vincent made no move to get up, merely staying there "...I'll dry, as, in fact, will you." he turned his head a little, to look at the brunette who was still staring in quizzical concern "...Stay? The rain will be heavy, but it won't last long, and watching rain on the sea is incredibly...soothing."
Reeve bit his lip, still holding his blanket, halfway through putting it in the bag he had used to carry it down to the sands. After a long moment, he nodded, and it was as if that was all the permission the rain had been waiting for. The first fat drops splashed on the sand, turning it from pearlescent silver to a dull gun-metal grey. Reeve put his bag down, and moved slowly back to Vincent, who unfolded an arm, inviting Reeve to lie next to him, offering a source of warmth against the cold of soaked clothes, and Reeve lay next to him, using Vincent's arm as a pillow. There was an unspoken intimacy in that moment, a wordless understanding between two men with no place in the world as they lay on a cool beach in the shadow world of a summer night, and watched the rain on the sea.