"That idiot! I am just so tired of having to put up with his pathetic attitude!" Tifa grumbled once the door slammed behind her.
For the last few months Tifa and Cloud has experimented with living together. At first everything was wonderful: the days of laughter, the walks under the stars, the little surprises he left for her every morning before saddling up on Fenrir and riding off, casually glancing over as he walked out of the shower with a small towel wrapped around his waist, the nights of intertwined limbs and sheets. The first several weeks had been the happiest time she could recall. However, a few weeks ago something had changed in him.
Something about his demeanor had begun to shift to his old self, not his old childhood ways, but his depression and self-loathing from after their dear friend has paid the ultimate price to protect them all. Sure, he had kept them all moving, all together, but he was empty, driving only by the thought of vengeance, not the desire to live. The last few weeks he was becoming that empty self all over again, only this time, there was no driving force keeping him going, no focal point of his existence, he was simply existing.
Mulling over the argument she had just had with Cloud, Tifa muttered to herself, "Why doesn't he ever want to do anything anymore? Nothing I try works, not being cheerful, not little reminders, not even breaking out my lacy things." She sighed remembering the nights they had spent together and the wonders he had opened her eyes to. She blushed a little remembering how he was always so careful about her feelings regardless of what he was experiencing.
Her blissful reprieve gave way to the realization that her recent nights had been by herself, desperately hoping he would reach out the way he used to, the way that had brought her so much happiness. How could he expect her to live like this, denied of what he had once provided so happily and willingly?
Hearing Fenrir turn over and then roar, she knew he was headed off again for solitude. He did not work anymore but rather spent his days riding the plains around Edge and Kalm. A week ago she had followed him for a while wondering where he was going, what he was doing. She listened to him put Fenrir in gear and slowly pull away, regretting the argument that she admittedly had started. Nothing could be done to take back what she had said, she knew that. She also knew of nothing that at this moment could dissuade him from his current emotional track.
She didn't really care so much what it was and was willing to pay just about any price to make him happy again. Tifa just wanted her happy Cloud back. Maybe that was a bit naive, maybe what she really wanted was her own happiness back, something that she wasn't sure she could have without him being happy.
As the engine faded into the afternoon sun, she began to pick up the pieces of her fragile state, hoping to get herself together enough to open up her bar for the night. She wiped the forming tears from her eyes and took a few deep breaths, hoping to calm both her heart and her rage. A few moments later, glancing at the clock, she opened the door to their bedroom trying to only think of the things that had to be done before tonight.
Her final thought before turning down the stairs was "Something is going to have to give, and its going to have to be sooner rather than later."
