Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII or any of the characters therein.
A Shadow of the Mind
The Beginning
In any other environment, her natural affinity for early mornings would have provided her some pleasure: the sunshine, being witness to the wakening of the world. But here, as it was, it only made her dread having to rise from her bed in the morning. Whatever sun there was usually was foiled by heavy, dark clouds, smog, pollution and dust. Before she stepped into the shower she would check on the children, then on Cloud. Her mood for the rest of the day was determined in this way. If his bed was empty, it meant he had already gone to do deliveries, which generally pointed to a farther destination than regular, and that he would be gone for most of the day. In these cases she would resign herself to monotony, and spent her time focusing on finding her small, pleasant reprieves elsewhere. On seeing him still asleep, however, she would allow herself one slight smile, safe in her understanding that she would be able to enjoy his company before the restaurant opened at one.
Doing likewise and sleeping in probably would have done her some good, and would have benefited her more than waking up at dawn, but she appreciated the comfort in the peace it afforded her, before the children woke and needed breakfast, and the day became busy. Despite the freedom that came with owning her own business, her days were generally almost nonstop, and by bedtime she was often too tired to delight in much of anything other than sleep.
The coffee machine had made nearly a full pot when she heard tramping from above, the ceiling groaning under heavily weighted footfall. She filled a cup for Cloud first, then one for herself, both of which she brought to the table cluttered with mail and business receipts. Normally she managed to keep the apartment very clean and neatly organized, but it was tax time, meaning a year's worth of earning and spending needed tending to.
They spoke of general things, any of his pre-scheduled deliveries, the meal and soup special of the day, had she one. Their voices were kept low and quiet, and long, easy pauses were common between them. Sometimes he would leave, to start early, others not, working on his bike, puzzling over the most time-efficient routes he could use from drop to drop. Because it was Friday, he would wait for the children before running out to pick up the inventory for the following week. They only went to school four days a week because the city couldn't afford to keep them in for five. Since they had off, the kids would alternate which one would accompany him, a process he watched with much amusement and some pride. His frequent absences made his company slightly more appreciated that his female counterpart, though no less valuable.
On her life she hardly felt fit to complain, had it been in her nature to do so at all. They had struck a soft, comfortable balance.
Truth be told, she detested having to live in Edge, much as she'd hated living in Midgar. It was a cold, haphazard place, no place to raise children, in her opinion, but the building had been cheap, and the area by default well-populated, good for business—good for her kind of business, in particular. That at least thrived in such a melancholy place, if nothing else. But those close to her heart remained close, and she couldn't feel justified in asking for more than that.
The end of this day was much like any other. Tifa had already wiped the bar down, washed the dishes, rinsed the ice box, arranged the bottles on the shelves, and lifted all of the chairs onto the tables so she could mop the floor, which she was in the process of doing. The radio was on, keeping her awake and motivating with a gentle support of soft jazz. Occasionally a deep baritone saxophone would vibrate over the room. She was almost finished, with only the chairs to reposition and the tables to be sponged clean. She swayed to the music, her eyes closed, sensing the aching pull of exhaustion in her limbs.
"You look like you're going to fall over." She grinned, but didn't look up at him.
"Probably true. I'm just finishing up." She moved to sweep by the front entrance, keeping her strokes in time with the beat.
"You know," he ventured, "you should sleep in tomorrow. You wake up too early to go to bed this late."
Tifa repressed a frown. He only ever suggested this when he would be leaving for a distant delivery anywhere farther than Healin. Most times he was only gone roughly twenty-four hours, but due to his stubborn refusal to turn down any delivery regardless of distance, there had been instances in the past where he had been gone for weeks at a stretch, riding endlessly on his motorcycle.
"Where's your delivery tomorrow?" she asked quietly.
"Only Kalm. I should be back tomorrow night. You shouldn't wait up for me though," he added, in afterthought. "I don't know how late I'm going to be."
"I won't," though they both knew she would, taking comfort in that knowledge.
Cloud watched Tifa moving delicately between the tables, swinging her hips, repeating motions she had done countless times before. For a while neither spoke, each entranced by his or her own task. After a bit, when she had finished mopping, she glanced up at him, leaning easily on the countertop, gazing at her.
"What are you staring at me for?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. Where'd you learn to dance like that?" She laughed a little in response.
"I wouldn't call it dancing, really. And I didn't learn it anywhere, I just do it." She fixed her eyes on his. "I could show you, if you want. It's really very easy. Nothing to it, really." Immediately his hands came up in protest.
"No. I'm not good at that sort of thing. I have no rhythm."
"Nonsense." She put the broom up against the bar, and swiftly took his hand before he could resist further, pulling him toward her on the floor. With one hand placed on the small of her back, and the other grasping one of her own, they swayed smoothly back and forth. As time slipped past, his original reluctant stiffness melted away, and he returned her grasp, pressing his hand on her back instead of idly holding it there. The distance between them dwindled, until she could feel his heart beating against her cheek, relieved to find it was running almost, if not just as fast as her own.
"See," she whispered. "Easy." As the song continued, she rested her head on his shoulder, her weary eyes shut. He 'hmmed' in response, but said nothing further. After a night of working she smelled like beer and grease, and scented hand soap, yet the hair brushing his face was soft, as was the firmness beneath his hand. Neither wanted to admit their disappointment when the song ended, eventually. Their swaying slowed to a stop, and after a brief pause Tifa pulled away from him. Her cheeks stung hot, and she yawned.
"Oh! Look what time it is! It's almost twelve-thirty." She glanced glumly at the still-unwiped tables. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt not to wipe them just this once. I'm too tired." She stepped away and switched off the radio. She smiled over to him. "Get to bed, Cloud. I'm sure you'll be up early tomorrow." He nodded, but otherwise didn't reply. She shut the lights off, and started up the stairs; in a second, Cloud followed her. She stopped at the door to her bedroom. "Goodnight, Cloud."
"Night, Tifa."
He waited until she closed the door behind her, then made his away to his own bedroom down the hall.
A/N: Hey y'all! This is my first post since finishing Motto, and I regret to say that I have written very little since then. I've only just started again, and I thought I'd post this since you seemed to enjoy Motto so much. Please, don't ask me to give an explaination for anything that happens in this story, since I'm writing it for the sheer sake of writing, and the process of applying to Physician Assistant programs and graduating from college is taking up a lot of my time. But since this story is already half written, do expect more chapters! Here I warn you: this is going to get very disturbing. I've always wanted to try my hand at horror, and since I love putting Cloud and Tifa through misery, here we are. Not even Marlene and Denzel are safe. Rated M for adult themes and language. Please review and tell me what you think!
