A OneShot by DFF
Cloud Strife was a man that rarely admitted things. So it was rare when he, to know one in particular, said, "The room's dark, damp and cold. I'm cold" to prove his point, he shivered. Though the room was dark, you didn't need common sense to know there was no other living beings -minus Cloud- in there. You wouldn't say he was dumb -his IQ was above average for a blond- just his mind in the wrong state. Curled up with his knees to his chest -in a corner wrapped wrapped with blankets- you wouldn't say it was cold, because the temperature was always warm almost everyday. Another thing that was wrong was it was not damp, since there was nothing in the room besides a bed, pillows and blankets. This hallucination might be cause by the shower he took every night -though he insisted the water was cold, it was relatively hot. His blue eyes that seem to glow, was staring holds in the opposite wall, muttering things like: "Squall should be home by now. Squall...I should feed Vincent later." Now, he did know that their chocobo, Vincent, was dead -his mind in denial. Though he knew -not his mind- that Squall was dead too. He had been for a year and he -Cloud- had been here a week after his death. But because he never admit these things, his hallucination would go as far as creating conversations.
"How was your day? Mine was fine...Sorry I didn't cook dinner today, I was busy."
Though he heard voices on the other side of the door, talking about him, he chose to ignore them because -though he won't admit it- they scare him. Morning was coming as light seeped through the window. Cloud sighed, eyes down cast. They would go through the same routine. Closing his eyes, he whispered, "I love you, Squall. I should have told you sooner" he admitted, and he did.