Cliffie: Because I like my Tifa slightly insecure. I think she really is strong, but doesn't see herself like that. And, as this is from her perspective (well, third person POV), her insecurities come forward more than her strengths. ; Dunno if Vincent is in character; let's hope he is! : This was originally going to be Reno/Tifa but evolved into Vinti for no good reason. Hah. Still, I rather like how it turned out. Enjoy
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, Advent Children, Dirge of Cerberus, or any of the characters. This is for entertainment purposes only.
Tifa hated the unknown.
When she was younger, and innocent, she used to look forward to excitement and new things and changes. But then she grew up, met Sephiroth, and everything went to hell. She stopped looking for changes and searched for normalcy instead. She grew to love patterns. Any day that followed the previous one was a good day. Every now and then – rarely, but it happened – she would get bored. Then she would catch herself, and shake her head, and go back to whatever she was doing. Boring sameness was better than facing the unknown.
When Sephiroth came back and Meteor threatened to destroy the planet, her life was thrown into the hectic, don't-know-what-tomorrow's-going-to-bring way of living. She hated it with a passion and wished for everything to just stop and still and go back to being normal. But she didn't say anything, or complain, or even let the others know how much she was suffering. Well, Vincent knew, but that was because he somehow knew everything about her without even trying. But she bore it all, knowing that she would always follow Cloud to the ends of the earth because he was Cloud and she would do anything for him. She never let her façade of strength fall. She pretended to be strong for everyone else and, after a time, she truly believed she was, or at least had the ability to be. At night, after Aeris had fallen asleep, Tifa would creep out of her bed and sit on the porch of whatever inn they were staying at and look at the stars. The stars didn't change. Vincent often came to sit with her. They didn't talk; their relationship wasn't like that. It was silent, and small, and unknown, really. Sometimes it scared Tifa silly – something else unknown. But then he would look at her with those eyes of his, scarlet-red and burning, and she would calm. Those eyes told her that things would be okay. They didn't say what lingered between the two of them, but they said that everything would be okay.
After Sephiroth was defeated and gone, Tifa finally realized Vincent was right. Things had turned out okay in the end, and she went back to her normal life as the bartender of 7th Heaven.
When Kadaj and his brothers showed up two years later hot on the trail of Geostigma, Tifa nearly broke down. She wasn't as strong as everyone thought she was: she was small and vulnerable and tired, tired of all of this. She wanted Aeris back. She wanted to stop fighting. Only she couldn't, so she did the one thing she was able to handle: she called Vincent, because his eyes were her safeguard. They barely spoke twenty words the entire time, but he was there, and she was okay. She fought, and she was okay.
He left, then, and Yuffie went with him. That hurt, a little. Perhaps she had fallen in love with him. But he left all the same, and Tifa slowly became reacquainted with living by herself. Well, Denzel was there, but it was still different.
A year passed. Then another, and another.
And then, one day, he walked into her bar like it was no big deal at all. Like he did it every day.
He sat down in a stool and ordered a gin tonic in that soft, melodic voice of his. And all Tifa could do was stare, mouth slightly open in shock.
He smiled. It wasn't a big smile, because nothing about Vincent was big or open. But one corner of his mouth lifted, in more of a smirk than anything else, and he said, "You do still make gin tonic, don't you?"
Tifa spluttered like an idiot and went to make his drink.
He was still sitting there, with his single drink, after everyone else had left. Hesitantly, feeling strange and awkward, Tifa crossed from behind the bar to sit on the stool next to him. "What're you doing back here?" she asked softly. It was unknown, his return and reasoning, but she wasn't upset, per se. She loved her normal life, but this change wasn't unwelcome. After all, Vincent was still the same.
He looked at her from beneath raven locks. His eyes, as always, seemed to scorch her very soul. His face was unreadable. "I decided I had been away for too long." A small sip of tonic, and she was free from his burning eyes.
"I'm fine," she said, somewhat defensively. She didn't want him to come back just for her, after all. If nothing else, Tifa wasn't selfish.
And he looked at her again, his crimson eyes locking onto hers and holding her so tightly she almost couldn't breathe. "I know," he whispered.
He smiled thinly, and Tifa couldn't help but smile back.
Cliffie: Thanks for reading! Reviews are much appreciated!