October 14, 2008.
Disclaimer: Sadly, none of these belong to me. I only love CLOTI pairings and experimenting with fluffy oneshots and a jealous Cloud Strife grins.
FLUFF! FLUFF! Harhar. Enjoy Fluff galore.
TEEF
"Tifa! HappyBirthday!" An overexcited bouncing Yuffie grins while producing something from her back.
A pair of MAKO blue eyes watches as the long haired woman laughs in disbelief.
What is that?! The soldier wanders cluelessly to himself
"A chocobo plushie?! Yuffie! This is soo cute!"
Oh.
Err—so that's what a plushie looks like. He has never seen one and now he knows why Marlene keeps asking him to buy her one.
He is quick to notice the glee in her voice and the light in her eyes and for a second he finds himself wishing he had at least gotten her something and not just mumbled the usual 'happy birthday Teef'.
"It will keep you warm at night."
What did Yuffie mean it will keep her warm at night? Are those so-called 'plushies' induced with materia? Silently shaking his head, the ex-SOLDIER stands from his stool and heads outside, completely missing the sly wink Yuffie gives Tifa.
TEEF
"Aww, aren't you one little cute thing!" She croons to the plushie while hugging it to herself.
From his usual bar stool, again, he is intent on secretly watching her.
If it's any other man, he will have groaned or at least rolled his eyes.
But he is Cloud Strife, and Cloud Strife does not groan, nor roll his eyes.
"Cloud, come play with me!" Denzel yells from the yard and his MAKO eyes meet hers. She sends him an encouraging smile and he has no choice but to follow the boy outside while his mind strangely argues the fact that she is to be left alone—with the plushie.
What's so cute with yellow chocobo plushies? He thinks to himself, while still keeping his face impressively passive. Why is she so obsessed with that chocobo thing? And why does it grate on his nerves anyway?
TEEF.
It's been two weeks.
Two weeks!
Two weeks since Yuffie has given her the plushie, two weeks since she has been clinging to it, and two weeks since he has started wanting to drive Fenrir over and over the yellow spiky plushie thing.
Gee. You'd think she'd never been given a doll with the way she keeps carrying that toy around.
"Cloud, are you alright? You seem….bothered." Her voice is soft as she gently places a hand on one of his stiff shoulders.
"I'm fine." He mutters while furtively glancing at her other hand which was clutching on to we-all-know-what. Suddenly, he musters the courage to ask:
"Don't you ever put down that—that —Chocobo?" he wants to call it thing, since something stealing and snatching Tifa's attention isn't even supposed to exist or be called anything—but then again angering Tifa is not running high on his 'I want-to-know-why' list either.
She seems surprised by his sudden query, but the confusion leaves her eyes and she only smiles one of her radiant smiles that never fails to weaken his knees.
"It's cute, it keeps me warm and it's fluffy!"
Fluffy.
Heh.
His hair's fluffy. Plus he can keep her warm.
Now where did that come from?
TEEF
It is cold—nearly freezing as snow continually chills the air in Midgard. The children are sleeping, already tucked warmly in their beds. The house is calmingly still as he lays in his room, his mind buried in thinking, in thoughts, in memories.
Nibelheim…
It is by random that the thought of Tifa's hometown hits his mind. And as he starts to think more about his childhood, he starts to think more of her. And he will have gladly immersed himself in his usual angsty world, if it it's not for the slight creaking of the floorboards that cuts the stillness of the night.
He knows it's her. And it takes him several moments to stop hesitating and approach her room.
He finds her standing by the window, watching the snow, pale white shoulders wrapped in a thick comforter--
"It's so cold. I cant's sleep." She offers the sheepish remark.
--with the yellow goddamned plushie still held protectively in her arms.
And it finally happens.
Cloud Strife snaps.
He is known as a quiet man, selective of his words and keeping to his thought. SHINRA has made him feel what desperation tastes like. Aerith has made him understand the feeling of uselessness and Sephiroth has made his blood thrum with the desire to hate and to kill.
But this!
THIS!
Something in the way that she holds on to that toy, something in the way she never lets it leave her side and something in the way she sleeps with it beside her snaps his thinning patience.
In a move that could only be compared with his speed during his fights with Sephiroth, he lunges at the Chocobo plushie, yanks it forcefully from her grasp and hurtles it at the wall, knocking down a picture frame, a mug and several books in the process.
It is a miracle that the children do not wake.
And with the way her wine colored irises flare-- it doesn't take a genius to figure out that she's fuming mad now—it is a miracle that she isn't strangling him.
But he isn't buying that. Not since irritation, desperation and anger has started to gnaw on his guts for quite some time now.
"CLOUD! WHAT ARE YOU—" she is silenced, and yet again taken by surprise when he suddenly grabs her arm, drags her and pushes her on to the bed.
She thinks he's had had enough, but again she is wonderstruck when he lies beside her, the weight of the bed gently shifting as he determinedly looks for a more comfortable position.
"C…Cloud…?"
The anger in her eyes is gone. She looks surprised, astonished and…?
He shakes his head, wanting to rid himself with thoughts of anything except her and making her see the point--His point. (Does he have one?)
"I'll keep you warm."
Her jaw drops.
"I can keep you warm, unlike that chocobo you keep clinging on to."
She blinks. Once, twice.
"Cho…co..bo…?"
And then he finally realizes.
It isn't about her clinging to the chocobo, or it warming her (or rather it not warming her) anymore—it isn't even about the Chocobo in the first place.
And it hits him like a ton of bricks and he suddenly feels panic flood his senses because he knows he is in a situation and a position—literally, that he shouldn't even be in, in the first place.
"I…I'm sorry…."
It is futile to escape her questioning glances now, but if he can just dash towards the door with his god-like speed, he can avoid her interrogation, hide in his room and convince her in the morning that it was all a dream.
He is about to make said wild dash, sturdy muscled arms launching himself in the upright escape position when he suddenly feels her grip his shirt tightly and pull him back towards the bed—to her.
"Don't go." She whispers and then tentatively places her head on his chest.
He looks at her, confused, panicked, ashamed?
"Don't go." Her voice is smooth like the sound of calm water and it is enough to force some of his fears back in his throat.
"I…I just wanted to make you feel warm—that's all. And…" he trails off, unsure of what to say.
"And…?" she is gently probing, and he is….terrified. Geesh. I've faced death a several times…why is it so hard…? His face scrunches up in concentration and he clears his throat, noting the look of anticipation in her eyes as he does so.
"I…I don't understand why you're so obsessed with the toy Yuffie gave you on your birthday. It's just a toy Tifa." He quickly adds. Yeah, and it's something that has gritted on my nerves for weeks now.
Her jaw drops, for the second time that night.
And then he sees her, even in the darkness of the room, and the smile she gives him is not at all lost to him.
"I should ask you that same question. Why are you so angry at my Chocobo plushie? It's just a toy Cloud."
He doesn't answer of course, because he doesn't even know if he wants her to know that he really thinks he's been quite insecure about how the said plushie has been attracting her attention, and that he should be the one who should get the said attention Plus he'd do a finer job in keeping her warm anyway.
Of course he'd rather die than let her know that.
Her grin stretches along with his silence and she leans more to him, bracing her weight against his, her courage and composure regained once more as she presses her lithe fingers on his chest.
"Don't tell me…" she giggles and nears his face even more, her ruby red irises now glowing with mirth and mischief.
"Is my chocobo plushie making you feel jealous…Cloud?"
And he just frowns and pulls her closer and delights with the way her body perfectly fits in his arms and how her breath is wonderfully warm against his cheek.
"I'll keep you warm. Sleep." he whispers to her ear as she murmurs something muffled somewhere in the vicinity of his chest and snuggles closer to him, her smile still visible in the dark.
"No Cloud, seriously?"
He doesn't answer her question. He doesnt even address her question. He doesn't tell her that he has loved her since they were kids back at Nibelheim, he doesn't even muster the courage to tell her he wants to spend the rest of his broken life with her. There are a million things Tifa Lockhart still doesn't know—as of the moment, including his brief stint with jealousy over a plushie. As if she'll ever know. He cajoles to himself.
She doesn't seem to mind though, and she only laughs about the matter before succumbing to sleep -- but hours later, as he continually watch her in slumber, his gaze strays to the poor chocobo plushie lying miserably on the hard cold floor.
It deserves it though. And it serves it right; he thinks himself, convinced albeit contentedly, before tightening his hold and once again resuming his watch over the precious woman he held close to his heart.
But next time, there will be no more yellow chocobo plushies in this house.
OWARI
Harhar. Cloud's complex character makes him seem sooo innocent and gullible at times! Please read and review! I might make a next chapter, possibly one with Tifa's POV.
Reviews are really appreciated!
Hands out fluffballs to everyone
ena