I don't own anything but Astasia, Dellusion, and Frost. After making a decision, I don't even own Cecil anymore (decided to make him the actual FF Cecil. . .this is gonna be weird. . .)

Summary: A silver haired warrior's musings as he looks upon his love who's with another man. Sephiroth hurt fic.

It hurts to see her like that. She's happy, but not with me. I want to be the one to make her happy. But I'm not. No, she smiles because of her husband, not her best friend.

Whenever she goes out in public, he's always by her side, as if afraid that if he'd let her out of sight she would be whisked away someplace better. I don't blame him. I would do the same. But she wouldn't want to leave him. He treats her like the princes, no. . .like the queen she deserves to be. And she loves him, whether I have a say in it or not. And he loves her.

Or at least that's what she's been telling me.

Whenever asked, she tells us that he shows her that he loves her through the things that she does. The small things from the heart are what matter, after all.

But when prompted for an example, she chooses to flash one of her fake smiles and brushes it off, saying that he's done so much that there's too much to say. I know what those smiles mean. I don't dare broach the subject again. I've been trained to know that much through our many years of friendship, especially when a conversation is finished because one of her cold replies.

But even though on the surface all is well, the heart of the matter is an entirely different story.

The love of my life, who inadvertently caused me pain, was in pain herself. None of us realized it, so none of us could stop it.

Our wake up call came when the mail came, one random day in the week. It was T-something. Which meant either Tuesday or Thursday. . .I can't remember which. There was a letter from me from my love. Before opening it I knew it was she who had sent it, despite the lack of a return address. It was her handwriting. I knew it well. Barely containing my curiosity and excitement, I tore into the letter like a famished dog to table scraps.

Withing reading the first line, the letter soundlessly slipped from my grasp as my mind went numb with shock. Quickly recovering, I plucked the letter out of the air mere inches before it hit the floor. My eyes reread the first line once more and then finished the letter.

My Dearest Sephiroth,

The reason for this letter is that I'm saying goodbye. The remains of this letter will explain why I have written this. Just know now, that no matter how much you rush to where I am, I will already be gone. In fact, my body will already be hours cold. Listen to me. I sound so morbid when I talk about myself.

All of my precious people will be receiving letters, explaining why.

And now I owe you an explanation, don't I?

Everyone thinks that Cecil and I make the perfect couple, don't they? That we are the epitome of happiness and that nothing will ever be wrong with us or our relationship. They're wrong.

Every night, Cecil beats me. I have finally decided to do something about it-

I had stopped there. My mind wasn't able to wrap itself around the thought of her being gone. The next thing I knew, my keys were in my hand, the letter tucked safely away in the back pocket of my pants as I headed out the door. Two words stood out among all that were on the page.

Our spot. . .

Without wasting any time, I headed for the heart of Junon, where the Sister Ray Cannon sat.

Once on top of the massive machinery, I spotted two people already there, one just standing there, her arms wrapped around herself as if trying to hold something in, while the other knelt upon the cold metal, cradling an even colder body to him.

It seems that Dellusion and Frost, her brother and sister-in-law, had gotten there first. I rushed forward and when I was within a few steps of the siblings, Dellusion looked up. His eyes were red and held pure sadness in their depths. Without my asking, as I fell to my knees, he handed her body to me as delicately as possible. Frost came up behind him and embraced him. The blacked eyed man accepted whatever comfort he could from her.

Rage started to bubble up within me, but was quickly overwhelmed by the grief that washed over me in waves. I held onto her with a grasp so desperately tight, had she been alive she would have winced in pain. With only a few minutes in silence, Dellusion's voice startled me. I wasn't expecting it.

"She wrote to me and told me to tell you that she loves you. With all of her might," the distraught brother told me. Frost nodded.

"She said the same in mine, as well. How much she loves you and how she has always loved you," she choked out, her stoic facade crumbling before me. I merely held my love's body close to mine and let out a scream of frustration.

Her so-called happiness had caused me pain, but the knowledge of her being in pain and me not being able to do anything about it nearly killed me inside. The fact that we all were so blind to her pain that it took her death for us to realize how hurt she was cut deeply. Too deeply.

In the letter to Dellusion, she had asked to be cremated and her ashes spread onto the four major winds.

Her letters mentioned nothing of revenge.

Cecil disappeared the day after her death. He was never heard from again. No one cared, not even his older sister, who had found my love more of a sibling than Cecil himself. Because of him, my dear Astasia is no more. There is no punishment worthy enough for his crimes.

. . .I hate Tuesdays. . .