I finally got around to posting this story. It isn't completely finished yet, but I do have a huge chunk of it done. And honestly, I just really wanted to post this for those who were interested in seeing a continuation.

So, If you haven't read Deal With The Devil, I advise you to do so now. Reading won't take long, and it will give you a little glimpse into the world I am about to introduce here... and maybe give you some answers about how everything came to be.

But to everyone else, happy reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, nor it's characters.

Beyond the dreams
lies the reality you wish you lived.

Gray eyes gazed curiously out of one of the many windows in the Shinra Mansion.

Yuffie held her head in the palm of her hands, her eyes never leaving the view of the dark Nibelheim sky. Several shades of gray that she didn't even know existed laid across the sky, clouds pulsating with a life of their own as they propelled across her vision by some nameless magic. It was such a strange sight to her. She had never witness a sky look so alive before.

Yuffie wasn't sure how long it had been since she crossed over. Here, there seemed to be no sense of time. It may have been days, perhaps even weeks since she found herself in this demented parallel world. Sunlight was non-existent, there was not a ray of shine anywhere, but at the same time, the nights did not come. The atmosphere outside felt heavy, it looked heavy, like a moment before a huge thunderstorm came in, only that moment was stuck on repeat.

Her gaze fell from the window, no longer wanting to see the depressing view of the stark reality she was still in. Her appetite had vanished the moment she realized that she wasn't dreaming the nightmare. She couldn't eat; didn't want to. Sleeping was not even an option. She knew what was waiting for her the moment she closed her eyes. She knew she would see him, fall under the spell of his face, his words. Her body would sing and dance under his hands, and his mouth would leave her trembling until he commanded she beg for more.

And she would wake up, drenched in her own sweat, and frustrated beyond all reasoning.

Yuffie shivered just thinking about it. She quickly rubbed her arms, trying to shake off the memory of her last dream.

He was there. He was always there. Always hovering over her. His eyes, red as scarlet, would glow, leaving her mesmerized. His hands were skilled, his mouth teasing. And he would speak to her, his voice a low rumble, filled with lust, power, but his lips would never move. And then he was inside her, and she would gasp and scream and plead until he gave her what she desperately wanted. Again and again.

Yuffie closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her face instantly heating up at the vivid memory. This was torture. Complete and utter torture.

She knew the dreams weren't just dreams. The powerful feelings that were invoked within her felt more than just a silly illusion. And everywhere she went, his scent would linger. Around her, on her flesh, like his very being was imprinted into all of her five senses. She felt him everywhere. It was maddening.

She didn't understand him. She didn't understand his constant focus on her. Why he tormented her to the brink of insanity. Why he showed himself only in her dreams.

Most of all, Yuffie didn't understand the pull from inside herself. Why she desperately wanted to see him, to touch him, taste him, but at the same time, despise herself for even wanting to do so. She was like an addict, aware of the poison that lurked in her mind, her body, but unable to cure it. Not wanting to cure it.

She didn't understand any of it.

Even so, Yuffie knew one thing was for certain.

She hated the one who called himself Vincent.