Cry Again
"Hey, Cloud?"
"Yeah?"
"Why do you think Vinnie likes her so much, anyhow?"
He merely arches an eyebrow and rests his head against the wall behind him. He doesn't know how to answer her, so he refrains from doing so.
"I mean, what's so good about her anyway? She's some old, dead, ugly…" and at this, she stops, and bites down on her now trembling lower lip with white teeth. "I just don't understand…" she whispers, and Cloud just looks at her.
What can he say, anyway? He knows how she feels about their friend – he knows that their friend wouldn't give her a second look if she took off her boots and socks and wore her underwear on her head and danced around.
He knows that it's basically a hopeless love for her, and that it kills her inside every time she sees him.
She curls her knees up to her chest and wraps her long, slender arms around them, resting her chin on the tops of her knees. Her clear silver eyes are misty with unshed tears, and she sighs, looking dejectedly down at the sodden ground.
He looks down at her, bright blue eyes observant. He tells himself he's not going to say anything – it isn't his place, and he's no good at love anyway – but all those promises of not getting involved fly out the window when he sees a crystalline tear make its way slowly but surely down the great ninja princess's soft cheek. He sits up quick, and gracefully makes his way over to his friend.
She is containing her tears, barely, but when his long, strong arms embrace her small body, she finds she can't control the sobs that rack her body.
They are there like that for a long time. They have shifted, and he is leaning against the wall, with her cradled in his arms. Her cheek rests against his rough clothing, and her fingers fiddle with the zipper as she sniffs idly. Neither of them are ready to move from the warmth of the other; neither of them is about to admit it.
"I love him," she confesses softly, almost silently, but he hears.
"I know," he answers quietly. His hand strokes her short hair gently, running his calloused fingers through the silky strands.
"I love him, and I know he will never love me," she sighs, her breath hitching in the back of her throat. He tries to ignore it, but impulsively presses his lips to the crown of her head. She fails to notice.
"It is not so hopeless," he whispers, her soft hair tickling his skin. She sniffs (defiantly, almost) and tilts her head back to look up into his eyes. Suddenly, their faces are very close.
"How do you figure?" she inquires cynically. Her eyebrows are arched mockingly, and her gray eyes are cold, chillingly so.
"Well, at least Vincent is still alive, right?" he says wryly, attempting to smile down at her. He is trying to be strong, to make her feel better, but she just looks up at him funny and tilts her lips down in a frown. She gets up, out of his warmth, out of his strong embrace, and brushes off her legs. She reaches down and pulls up a reluctant Cloud, and he wonders what he said wrong.
"Yuffie…" he murmurs, wanting to apologize – it was hard for him to say, too, he loved her, too, even more than Yuffie did, and why did she even care if he referenced her at all? – but she quickly turns around and places a slight, long finger over his lips. She stands precariously on her tip-toes and presses her small, warm lips on his cheekbone, then pulls away. She stares up at him with those big, gray eyes, then she is walking away, her arms curled around her slim body, her spine quaking in insuppressible shudders.
He is in shock for a few moments, then he goes after her and encircles her slender shoulders with one long, muscular arm and rubs her arm gently. They walk together down the street, and they both reminisce on love, and cruelty. Because sometimes, most times, the two walk hand in hand.
Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII. Ever. Sadly, it belongs to Square Enix. If they ever feel like, you know, just handing it over... here I am!
Author's Blurb: My first FFVII fic, between Cloud and Yuffie. It wasn't meant to be a fluffmance fic, but... what I want and what happens aren't exactly a bit similar, to sort of quote a very wise man named Jayne. (copyright Joss Whedon...) It was sort of meant to be a companionship fic and this is what turned up. Oh well. Don't even ask about the fic title. -- Well, review and tell me...something. Anything, really. Thanks for reading.
FL.