Chapter 1:
I let my fingers brush the musty old pages of the phone book as I scanned the ink printed there for help. The book just happened to breeze past the 'L' section of the book and I caught a quick glimpse of my own name, Tifa Lockhart, before the pages slipped beneath the pads of my thumb and forefinger. Names and numbers blurred before my eyes, the pages wafting dusty air into my face as they fell one upon another with a soft thad-thad-thawp. I had just gotten past the home stretch and let the pages come to a halt where regular numbers ended and business advertisements began.
From there I looked for the letters that might correspond with what I was looking for, as was the protocol for proper use of the phone book. Fancy that, I was using proper protocol, wouldn't Cloud be so proud.
"Women are supposed to be, well, feminine," I mocked, my face crumbling into an all to familiar sneer as I mimicked my ex's departing words, "I've never seen you wear a dress—bah, you were off playing SOLDIER during those days, creep. You own a bar! You can kick any guy's ass that walks into Seventh Heaven. Guys are meant to, well, you know, be able to protect their woman. But you've already got that covered—Well sorry for being independent, jerk!"
"You're talking to yourself again, Miss Lockhart," said a calm, rough voice from across my lame excuse for a dinner table.
I huffed, causing the little wayward strands of my hair to skitter every which way. I tried to ignore the resulting need to itch my face, and snarled, "I am not talking to myself! I do not talk to myself!"
I didn't look at him. Looking at him would be acknowledging that he exists and I refused to let him have the satisfaction of being right…again. Good looks be damned, it wasn't like I was desperate. I mean, who would want to be haunted every waking moment of their life by a drop dead gorgeous man, clad in dark, skin tight leathers, who had a voice to die for, and eyes more entertaining than the best—whoa! Hold on, Tifa old girl, what happened to the whole, "He Doesn't Exist" motto? But he is so—doesn't exist, Tifa, just keep telling yourself that.
"Oh, but you do talk to yourself, Miss Lockhart," I could hear the smile in his tone. I knew it was small but I also knew, from previous experience, that it was a curve of the lips that he wore charmingly.
I chanced a glance at him from under the veil of my hair. Still there, still sexy, and still right. Oh damn. I dropped my gaze and shook my head. Not real, not real, not real!
I could hear the rumble of his laugh, gravel deep, and growled to keep myself from noticing how it put the hairs on my arms on end, and made my flesh crawl. Not an entirely unpleasant experience, but not a healthy one. He would be gone soon, and that was that! I was going to get rid of this spook of a man once and for all!
The advertisement section is alphabetical, right? So how come Ghost Busters wasn't in the 'S' section? Paranormal Investigators weren't listed either…what was it going to take, a freaking cult?
"Why not go to a Church?" he suggested.
"Why don't you go take a long walk down a short tunnel ending with a bright white light?" I said, well, more like screeched but who can blame me? He was a singularly infuriating man.
"I already told you its not that simple, Miss Lockhart, there is no light," he said, and waved one leather clad hand out in a gesture that meant the room was oddly lacking heavenly beams of light. Sorry, I've seemed to have run short, but once I find a paranormal…guy, I'll get right on it. Jerk.
Evidently I had been muttering under my breath, because he picked up on it. The light flutter of his laugh warmed me from within in such a way that I couldn't stand. He was such a pig, being all comforting, and male, and, and, and breaking the frame of mind I had created for guys after the Cloud Incident. Damn pretty boy with good manners, and a cry-your-heart-out voice.
I clenched my fists tight, tight to the point of pleasant popping bordering on painful cracking, and screwed my eyes closed. A few deep breathes later and I allowed my muscles to unwind and glared at Mr. Too-Perfect-To-Be-True in defeat.
"I can't do this anymore, Vince. We can't do this anymore. Can't you just go? Can't you just leave? Shouldn't you have passed on by now or something?" I gasped out in one long defeated breath.
He quirked one flawless ebony brow at me, set somewhere beneath his red headband…thing, and the cowl of his garnet mantle. "We've gone through this before, Miss Lockhart, remember?"
Remember? Boy did I ever. I crossed my arms with a huff and tried not to think about it but the memories clawed their way up from the abyss regardless.
When we had first moved in—Cloud and I, that is—we weren't informed of the apartment's history, namely its bad reputation. But in our defense, when you're looking for a place to live, you ask how much, when can you have it, for how long, and what's the condition? If you want to get nitpicky, you can go down to the local superstore, pick out a brand spanking new TV, as large as they make'em, and live in it's box once you buy it.
Anyway, it was our house hunt that started this whole mess—or maybe it was Cloud quitting his job, which led to our house hunt. Whichever way you spin it, it sucked.
"Life sucks and then you die," I grumbled, the huff of my outburst blowing the pages around frantically for a moment.
He merely leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and glowed in amusement. Literally.
"Got that right."
Hey, Spazzlings here.
This is just a little experiment I cooked up. Its short, I know, but throughout my experience with multi-chapter fanfictions (yes, I have written others, bet you can't guess which!) long chapters are harder to get done on time. I want to update frequently and long chapters don't help me with that at all. So, I'm going to try and shorten them up, and keep them coming…we'll see how it works.
So, what comes next are going to be a series of chapters explaining what happened starting from when Tifa and Cloud buy the apartment, and stopping at the point we're at now—which well then progress into the future! Dun-dun-dun. I'm hoping to throw in some twists you won't see coming, and I hope you enjoy the story in the long run.
Tell me what you think so far, is it worth writing?
-Spazzlings
By the way, I'm horrible at writing in first person. I'm using this story as an excuse to practice so if you have advice, I'd love to hear it!