Out Of The Dark Twilight.
With the moon shining upon her now wet body, she looked like a lost little girl.
"Sorry…I have no where to go…" Her tone was fearful and sad; she had come in from the night, cold and wet, and having not eaten anything for who knows how long.
He stared at her for a moment, thinking about the last time she had shown up at his door, but she looked the same; always the same. But that's even more so for Vincent, time doesn't pass for him, he lives in the 'now', in the present, living for each moment. People will die, nations will crumble, and the only constant will be Vincent…everyone he gets close to always dies, such is the price for his immortality.
"May I…come in?" She asked, wanting nothing more then to be out of the rain. He stepped back, after stalling a second, allowing her to enter, and yet not saying anything…
He opened a closet near to the door, retrieved a towel, and then handed it over, all the while not speaking a single word. She graciously took the towel and began the long arduous task of drying her hair out.
"I'm sorry that I…keep coming here…" She turned and met his gaze for the first time that night; the firelight caressed her delicate features, showering her beautiful ruby colored eyes in an orange glow.
"Cloud still missing?" Vincent finally spoke, choosing this moment as the perfect time to get to the 'heart of the matter'. She turned away from him, breaking their gaze after a long and tense moment, Vincent isn't very good at sparing feelings, and maybe he never was. They sat on the sofa for a long and tense moment, neither one wanting to be the first to speak, but Tifa spoke up, breaking the pressure.
"Missing," she began as she let out a slight chuckle. "That's a laugh. He left me, ditched me."
Tears had begun to break-free as she held her eyes shut tightly.
After a moment of this silent crying, which made her feel disgusted, she looked up at the former TURK, probing him through her grief and anguish. He simply sat across from her, distant and un-comforting as always, truly a stoic person in his own right. She didn't even know if he, truly gave a damn.
"He's gone, why can't I understand that?" She buried her head into her hands, struggling to keep her composure. He just looked on, not knowing what to do or what to say.
Tifa had been searching for Cloud for well over a year now, and every few months she would show up here, like some kind of sick and demented clockwork, and yet he always let her in, gave her food, but was it out of pity? Or could he actually be a normal person with feelings?
Vincent stood and stuck out his hand, she looked up, half surprised and half afraid.
She felt that he was not really a violent person, they had known each other a few years now, and she knew that there was some seemingly un-tapped well of feelings hidden deep within whatever was left of his hallow being, and yet he had a frightening and ominous demeanor that chilled her, it seem to delve into her soul whenever she would look into his eyes. She took his outreached hand and was led into the kitchen.
A candle-lit dinner lay before them, food upon food, and a bottle wine to complement this strange occurrence. "What…is…this for…?" She stammered out, completely surprised, she was beside herself.
"You always come back after three months, on the dot, like clockwork, on the seventh." He allowed her a small smile, she stared awkwardly at it, it was subtle and unforced, and she couldn't help but feel slightly turned on by it. She had never seen him smile before and she felt a little overwhelmed, never seen a smile, let alone dinner, she didn't even know if he needed to eat.
He pulled out a chair for her, to which she accepted and returned his smile. He moved fluidly across to the other side of the table at which they were to begin their meal. It was at this moment that she realized that Vincent's' attire was not as it usually appeared, no cloak draped across his broad shoulders, it had been replaced as well as his pants with a navy-blue suit, that of the TURKS.
She felt a familiar feeling, a mixture of arousal, and lust, as well as honor. Not once had she seen him wearing that suit, it hugged to his muscular frame, only adding to her already 'hot and bothered' equanimity. 'He looks so masculine' She thought after taking the seat and staring at his rear as he walked away.
She starred down at the food, it looked delectable, and after a cautious bite, her qualm was settled, it was delicious as well as beautifully prepared. "How…did you…?" She spoke though the food that she had already stuffed into her mouth, realizing her detestable manners, she ceased wolfing her food.
'He must think I'm an uncivilized pig…'
He had been sitting with his head on his palm, smiling, but it faded instantaneously. He spun his emotions completely. "Your not a pig, I think its cute how you eat."
She shot him an discomforted glance, 'How did he…did he…?'
"And, yes, I did make this food myself, and yes, it really was in hope of your return home…" He stopped in mid-sentence, realizing the severity of his words; Tifa stopped and looked up from her plate.
"Home?" Her tone of voice altered in a considerably evident manner; from bewildered and on the verge of full-blown depression, to confused and…hopeful?
Vincent needed to smooth this over, and quickly. "My home, excuse me, my words fail me from time to time." Tifa nodded her head, "Oh, of course. I know how that can be!" she was severely disappointed to hear his response, why was she even getting any hopes up? Vincent wasn't the kind of person that would accept someone into his life, regardless of what they may attempt.
They ate in silence the rest of the meal.
* *
With dinner finished they retreated to the comfort and solace of the lounge, they now sat by the fire, drinking and talking. The rain rapped gently against the windows of the forgotten Shinra Mansion, it resounded through the house, relaxing and calm, and set beside a fireplace, no lovers could resist.
But Tifa and Vincent are not lovers.
"He just said that he was bored with me. He wanted something new…someone who doesn't remind him of his past, or lack there of…" Tifa said as Vincent stared deeply into her eyes, never breaking their lock, in his own way he was running his hand through the still waters of her soul, creating ripple after ripple, of course to this she was oblivious, but he continued to get lost in them. They are such a dark red, (not unlike his own), but lacking the hate and hurt, and self-loathing that he had been living with for more than three decades.
Vincent had heard all this before, many times, yet he couldn't deny her anything, let alone a chance to vent her pent-up anger, to connect with another person, especially himself. Vincent swirled the glass in his hand absent-mindedly, ice danced about the dark liquor tapping the crystal cup, free and with out restraint.
"…And then he just left, not a word about anything! Not even a damn goodbye!"
She noticed the intense look of thoughtful perception on his face.
'He knows exactly how I feel, has he been through something like this before…?'
She contemplated while staring equally deep into the very recesses of his mind.
Shadows danced and leapt as the fire crackled and wavered. "Now, again, the only place I can go is here…I'm sorry that I am such a burden on you Vincent, but as of now, you're the only person I feel I can trust…" She let out a long, exasperated sigh, some invisible, indistinctive tension filled the room, so they sat in utter silence, it was deafening and yet calm to the point of being comforting.
Vincent took a sip of his drink, contemplating how he should approach the situation without making himself appear to be some emotional outcast. But alas there is no escaping emotion.
"No, you're not an inconvenience. If you need a place to stay, my home is your home." She smiled and her tears retreated back to where they had come from, Vincent had hit his mark.
The large Grandfather Clock struck midnight, chiming softly in the dead of night.
Tifa yawned and stretched her arms out. "I'm going' to bed, good night Vincent…and…thanks" She flashed him another smile, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated after venting her problems. Vincent didn't return the smile, not that she had expected him to in the first place. He simply nodded and continued sitting on the black couch. Tifa waited a moment, expecting some kind of confirmation as to her sleeping arrangements, but no such answer came. She walked upstairs and headed for 'her' room.
Vincent finished his drink and stoked the fire one last time.
After some cleaning he proceeded up to his room, stopping along the way at Tifa's door, wanting to knock and enter, to lay with her, feel warmth and love, but no. 'I don't need that…I don't need anything…'
He walked up to his room, retrived his book and continued his reading long into the early hours of the following morning, reveling in his loneliness, at last.