uncomfortable
disclaimer: ffvii is not mine.
(elena. elena. elena.)
She doesn't know why they call her Alice sometimes. She doesn't realize it, not at first, because they whisper it as softly as crinkling paper. But as time passes, her ears catch the name, the two syllables instead of three. Yet they pass it off so easily with debonair grace and dark that it seems that it doesn't mean a thing.
a-lice. a-lice. a-lice.
( elena doesn't get it. no, not at all. )
a-lice. a-lice. a-lice.
( then elena notices, slowly, piece by piece. )
It's the way that Tseng pursues something, meticulously in time, in sync with the ticking bombs (pocket watch, wrist watch, and many, many, more) in his suit. It's the way he looks good in a suit, but looks even better in white; crisp and clean and devoid of any mess (because the queen couldn't have that, no, not at all).
She catches his eyes (dark as ebony, dark as night) once and he whispers the name, not her name, and he smiles, soft and secret and to himself (she is not meant to understand) and when he walks away, teasing time with hurried precision, she wonders if she should chase him (down, down, down to where?).
a-lice. a-lice. a-lice.
( the name drips into elena's skin through the drops in elena's shower. )
It's Rufus who she notices next. Rufus, who smiles and smirks and is always out of reach. Rufus, who is sleek and cunning and stealthy like his cat (panther, it's a panther) that no longer walks (slinks, prowls, haunts) among the living. When she closes her eyes, she can picture whiskers on his face and a cruel grin (and it never, ever ends).
He never touches her (never needs to, he is like a god that torments his victims) but she can always feel his eyes on her and his fingertips scraping down her back (and fingernails feel like claws).
a-lice. a-lice. a-lice.
( it's rufus' voice that croons elena's name through the curve of the bullet, though it sounds like something else. )
Reno and Rude are realized at the same time with fireworks flare and demure dourness. She only takes up their offer once and by the time they receive their drinks (at the same table, at the same place, at the same hour, in different seats) Reno is babbling and tearing holes in the (tattered, tattered, chequered, tattered) tablecloth while Rude is keeping him in his place, his watchful eye (and she will never notice how careful he is) never straying too far. Green eyes (too green, like shattered emeralds and weeping grass stains) flicker in untold mysteries and she wonders why her throat grows dry under his unsettling gaze.
A Turk is always dangerous, never forget that. This is the part you have to play.
And then he uses that name.
She can feel Rude search her (but he's doing so much more than that) with cool eyes while Reno laughs (sniggers, leers, chortles far, far too loudly) awaiting her reaction.
So she smiles and sips on her drink, her throat just as parched as before.
And she gets it.
This is the role that she has.
a-lice. a-lice. a-lice.
(elena. elena. elena.)
After that, they don't use her name anymore.