A/N: I know, I know, I probably need to explain the pairing. I don't know why, but I got really attached to it a few months ago. I won't lie, it looked weird to me at the beginning as well, but it gently grabbed my heart and grew around it like some fluffy parasite. Even though they have like zero interaction in Crisis Core and Cloud probably won't even remember him, if he ever meets him in the future. Those who like it are probably going to enjoy it anyway.
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII, the dudes or anything related to Square Enix.
.:Fly With Me:.
What is the immortal love?
Is it worth of your divine life?
Walk among humans as a mortal,
but wings you may lose.
Ever thought of that one poem that lingered in the passing wind? Every time the words left your lips, gracefully but carefully, they were swept away by the breeze that follows the current of tree blossoms, leading them away from its last destination into an unknown beyond. That one winged angel, whose words were caught up in the incoming storm, but their gracefulness is neither seen or heard anymore. Dramatically, the red coated angel spoke the poems with precision and carefulness, with grace and sensitivity present in any verse but still… a flash of sadness and agony could be heard. The sound of disappointment, the sound of failure, the sound of… loneliness. The poet might have been in great sorrow when writing his poems onto the white sheets of papers, but the reader's pain might have been worse.
That one forgotten soul clutched the book hard against his chest and stood on the cliff overlooking the destroyed Mako city as he recited his new found emotions. The words once again left his lips gracefully and carefully, with sensitivity and precision. Any poet would have been in great heartache hearing his creations being used like this. However, they were actually used the way they were supposed to be… they knew with pride and tears in their eyes the beautiful verses were created for the tormented and seeking souls, one that would not abide by the planet's rules and continued to seek their own place in the world, their position in the history of its making.
He turns away from the world to flap his wings;
this world is not the one he used to know.
What happened to peace and generosity?
Is it not anymore a sacred virtue of its people?
The world has changed again during his inactivity… after many long years of undisturbed sleep under the earth he realizes he probably missed his opportunity to prove himself as a hero to the Goddess. He stood permanently at the same place for hours or even the entire day, from the early golden colored sunrise up until the mystical red and violet sunset, reciting his favorite poems from the book, but still glancing toward the sword that nowadays served as a memorial for a very known person, but still not famous to the world… only significant to a few that knew the events therein.
There was also one other person who thought of the sad cliff as his runaway spot. Though filled with painful memories and experiences, the place seemed to radiate another special meaning other than death. It was that of life and a new beginning. And unlike many years ago, this whole wasteland looked uncultivated, sad and completely void of its natural beauty by the constant robbing of its life force. It looked impossible for anything to ever grow again. However, the stubborn greenery started to cover the badlands with grass and an occasional flower about one year ago. It never again looked sad ever again, but wonderful instead.
When the angel looks upon the world again,
the sole innocence and purity reveals itself before his eyes.
He's dazed at first… how can such a pure creature exist in this world,
on this filthy and disgusting planet?
Cloud thought of this place as the beginning of his new life, but also the beginning of numerous troubles that were only bound to happen. He still visited the place where his savior drew his last breath and died in peace, knowing that everything will be alright now. One day, however, he was interrupted by the sound of a flapping wing and an almost familiar voice behind his back. The quick interaction ended with a ferocious clashing of the swords, the battle of fire and sparks, sword by sword, eye to eye. It only managed to end when the angel came to the recognition of the blond. Even if it was for just a second or an hour, he remembered him well. It only saddened him that the other man didn't have a clue.
The angel was already doomed for his approaching downfall,
he allowed his feelings to interfere,
he saved the human girl,
he allowed her destiny to change to keep her by his side.
It took longer for the blond to remember than the red coated man had previously presumed. It was possible the memories were forgotten deeply in the mind of his supposed opponent or maybe he just didn't want to remember… whatever the reason, he couldn't really blame him after everything he had done before. When Cloud finally decided to listen to the mysterious man whose name suddenly appeared in the back of his mind, the one winged angel retained his poetic description. He walked slowly around the cliff, the luminescent blue eyes staring at him wherever he stopped and stood and thus followed him while he shifted his position tirelessly and anxiously. He quoted the lyrics of his own life, his downfalls, his achievements, his dreams; his supposed purpose for existence.
However, he was stranded in his position again, fixed onto the scenery before him. Looking toward the damnable sunset, his eyes mourned the blissful red colored rays as they traveled down the figures of the two men in acceptance of the incoming night. The blond didn't know the reason behind the action, but the present setting was truly beautiful, like an oil painting, blending perfectly with the arts of a professional artist. Anytime Cloud came here in search of peace, he actually forgot to look into that way. His eyes were always peered toward the ruined Mako city, but rarely toward this outstanding beauty.
The black winged man smiled and bowed his head, right before turning back to the blond swordsman with a swish of his crimson coat. He put his hand on his heart and started reciting another quote from his memory, ''The ways to glory are cruel, my friend. No matter how much you try, always expected one failure is. As I am the origin from the past and you are the future, fighting together side by side, the World's Enemy trembles at the sight of us. No way should be easy to walk, but the future is what takes you to its lead. If you walk it, my friend, you shall find your salvation and your destiny.''
''… Genesis?''
The punishment you now take for yourself,
do you wish to have your wings,
or do you wish to be with the human,
choose now, traitor, but whatever you decide,
you will feel pain for the rest of your life.
The red coated man chuckles at the colorful sound of his name, it just doesn't come out in the same manner as it used to. He lifts his head and smiles again… the smile felt strangely warmhearted to the blond, it wasn't cocky, mischievous, mysterious or angry, but a real smile this time, right from the heart, ''I feel time has preceded me. I was away for far too long. Almost everyone I used to know had died, some by my fault, some by their own hand and some by others. Protecting the world was my virtue for proving myself, but I believe I missed my chance. A fool I was, believing the history would repeat itself… for my sake.''
The cherub falls without his graceful wings,
his landing on the earth is a painful one.
He tries to stand on his feet, but he fails again,
a single tear he sends to the ground,
and awaits till his final judgment.
And not once did the cliff stay in loneliness since then. If it wasn't for the other, the first one was there and if it wasn't for the first one, the other was there. Sometimes both of them were there, standing, talking and mesmerizing the sunset while the poems, verses and quotes flew once more from the red angel's heart and into the distance to reach the ears of anyone present.
It's not like he didn't notice… he just didn't know what to say at first. The blond man had once again stared blankly into the sword like many times before. One would think he was trying to move it with his stern look. It wasn't a sad look or an angry one as one would presume at first. It held nothing more than a black abyss of darkness. It surprised him… some people could have the most beautiful and emotional eyes in the world, but they could change them into a book with no words, no summary and no illustrations just as easily as they could look at someone with passion or rage. It almost felt like a crime to him.
When he looked toward the younger swordsman for one last time, he had already changed his initial pose from standing proudly before the grave into an almost cowardly stance on the ground, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs and head buried deeply in them. Genesis thought for a moment he should look at him with pity, but decided against it and instead returned back to the ancient words of the beloved old book.
Suddenly, a cry she hears from the distance,
the anguished cry of her knight fallen on earth,
he is hurt, alone and ready to die,
I must find him and help him!
However, it was not the stance that wrenched the angel's heart into an opposite direction, but a stifled and quiet sound of sobbing from the same direction, knowing very well what the cause of it was. As much as he wanted to ignore him, forget about it and look back into the sunset, he couldn't even tear his eyes away from the blond. He lifted his head quickly and glared toward the leaving sun as long as he could, trying to engrave it in his memory before he walked away forever and forgot it ever existed. With a deep sigh, he closed the book and quietly walked over to the blue eyed swordsman's side. The young man didn't notice when the older one crouched beside him, he only felt the angel's arms around his back and chest providing the comfort he used to long for. Occasionally, one hand would caress his messy spiked locks of hair, while the other stayed firmly on his torso. The sobbing had successfully echoed away into the nothingness and tranquility took over the vivid scenery of fighting shades.
She talks about her life as a void of nothingness,
until this angel came into her life,
he gave me a new meaning, a new heading,
I would be lost forever without this gentle soul!
The red angel smiled at the beautiful scenery before them and rested his heavy head onto the blond mess, all while closing his eyes and reciting aloud, ''Don't cry, little angel. Angels don't cry… they grieve. For their loved ones, for their friends, for people they don't even know, they grieve. They send rain instead of tears, thunder instead of rage and lightning instead of sorrow amongst the clear and broken clouds. Abandon all your doubts and all your fears. Come, give in and fly with me, I'll show you my heaven.''
With him in his arms, all time seemed to slow down. The sunset appeared to have stopped in its place just to shine upon them for a while longer, the magnificent colors around their figures and sun rays dancing on their sensitive skin. With his arms tightly around the sleeping blond and his head on his chest, he sighs heavily again, but lifts his hand to the other's cheek and cradles it like a newborn child. Soft and innocent it may seem, but it is not easy to understand one's feelings. Quite a lot of burden you stored in your heart, but you learned how to let go. Maybe once you can teach others the same.
The Goddess hears the incoming prayer,
sending him to his fated doom,
his only wing crumbles into ashes and he himself,
crumbles into the earth on her grave,
from where he rises as a graveyard flower.
He looks up to sky again, the red angel, gently fluttering his wing, ''The price of love and price of freedom. So different and yet so close at the same time. No matter how much you look up and reach to the stars, you will never touch them… only shortened your distance to your intended destiny. I don't know your fate, but nor do you, as it follows the current of time and proclaims its changes, following and guiding you to your victory or downfall. Just promise me something… shall you tell me the adventures of the merciful and the wicked? Will you reveal me the stories of your successes and failures? Will you… remember me?''
… as I forever, follow you in death.
A/N: I really needed to update this and other stories for grammar and sentence structure. I cringe every time I see anything I've written years ago and it runs wild with dreadful spelling errors (and overly long author's notes). I'm not sane enough to be doing this. I'm sophistically and professionally insane... whatever that means.