Title: Three Little Words
Pairing: Vincent/Aerith
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Theme/Lyric Code: L.03 ("To the Moon and Back" - Savage Garden)
Genre: General, romance ... fluff?
Rating: G. Nothin' triple-X here.
Warning: Fanfiction wouldn't be fanfiction if we stuck to canon, now would it?
Summary: There are three little words — eight letters, two spaces — that can make Vincent choke and freeze up.
Other: For the 40-mixed challenge on LiveJournal. Semi-AU 'cause Aerith's alive and kicking. Takes place sometime post-game. Relationship established, for the most part. (premiered 08/16/07 at 607am.)

It's like a journey I just don't have a map for.
( Savage Garden, "To the Moon and Back" )

Vincent knew Aerith.

He knew her facial expressions, her voice tones, and her gestures. He knew her scent and her footsteps. He knew how well she fit against him when she slept next to him.

He knew how she wasn't afraid to come out and say things when they really mattered.

That's why when she told him she loved him one night while they were walking home from the item shop together, he wasn't all that surprised. He'd looked at her and smiled, then hesitantly put his good arm around her waist lightly as they made their way home. But he hadn't said anything in response to her declaration. Not because he didn't feel that way, but because he couldn't.

Thirty years of self-induced isolation brought on by the belief that not being able to protect the one he used to love was the worst mistake of his life — a sin, he told himself and the others — had eaten away the ability to say "I love you" to anyone. The fact that he had thought he'd never fall in love again had eroded it further. And now what was he left with? No words, no way to tell this young flower girl who had managed to steal his heart that he adored her. He could show her — in fact, he had, several times — but he was unable to tell her. At least she understood, and he was grateful for that. Another thing Vincent knew about Aerith was that she was incredibly perceptive, and she probably knew him better after a few months than he did after decades.

So when he said nothing after her "I love you," she'd simply leaned into him and told him, "Please don't say it yet. I know it's not the right time."

He hadn't then, and he hadn't since ... and it had been nearly two months after. She'd remained patient and never pressured him into saying it. Every time he thought the time was right in the course of those two months, and he tried to let those words out, his throat actually burned. Aerith noticed his discomfort each time, and, just like that first time, told him the same thing: "Don't say it yet. It's not time."

He often felt like he'd never be able to say those three words. Once he even felt like maybe he was mistaken in how he felt about her — that perhaps being locked away for so long had just made him so lonely he would go for anyone. But later, when she kissed him, he knew better than to believe that.

Now as he sat on a barstool in Tifa's new bar, reading a newspaper while Aerith washed dishes (because she'd promised to do that so Tifa would be on time for her date with Cloud), those three words suddenly rushed forth, practically fighting to be released.

"I love you," he said, his voice low and gravelly. Those words sounded old and new at the same time. She turned around to face him. "I love you," he repeated, more clearly this time, and with a small smile.

Aerith couldn't help but smile back at him (only much bigger), knowing the time had finally come — albeit at a rather strange moment and in a non-conventional setting. It didn't matter, because she was happy to hear it. "I love you, too," she said, leaning over the counter (and she had to stand on her tiptoes to do so) to kiss him lightly.

A/N: HAHA! This is the last story I had to move over here. From now on, stuff will be cross-posted. :D