A/N: I own nothing.
This is the first fic that I've posted in a long time! Life just happens that way. I do want to give a big shout out to my buddy, Leife! She read over the current story for me, and I can't thank her enough! Anyway, enjoy!
"Cloud," she gasped, sitting straight up in her bed.
Tifa pressed her hand to chest, trying to control her breathing. Small beads of sweat ran across her forehead, and she felt moisture along her chest as well. The camisole she slept in stuck to her back, drenched in a cold sweat. She removed her hand from her chest and wiped her forehead. Tifa squeezed her eyes shut tighter to try to hold on to the images she'd seen a moment ago.
The dream had felt so real.
Cloud had been here. He had been home. She had felt his hard, warm body pressed against hers, his lips melded to her own. One of his strong hands had been running through her long dark hair, and the other cradled the small of her back, pulling her closer. His bright cerulean eyes were lustful as they bored into her amber ones.
His eyes, she sighed inwardly. Every time she met his gaze it was as if he could see into her very soul.
Tifa allowed her eyes to crack open to look at the clock on her nightstand. It's only two. She rubbed what sleep was left in her eyes away. Wide awake at 2 a.m.
She sighed outwardly this time and climbed quietly out of bed. She tiptoed barefoot to her door, deciding to check on Marlene and Denzel. The hallway was dim, but she could see the nightlight from the children's room; they preferred her to keep the door cracked slightly when she tucked them in.
Tifa peeked in and saw Marlene lying on her back, sound asleep with her light brown hair fanned around her head. Denzel lay on his side, facing the door and Tifa. His mouth held a slight grimace, and Tifa went to kneel beside him. She gently brushed his hair away from his forehead, revealing an oozing gash, and lightly pressed the back of her hand to his head.
Still a little warm, she thought, as she dipped a cloth into a small bowl of water by the little boy's bed. She wrung it out and placed it on his head. She hoped his fever would break soon. The Geostigma had affected so many, but she felt most empathy for the children. More and more deaths related to the Geostigma were reported every day on the radio, and Tifa had been so afraid for Denzel. She knew the wound on his head caused him constant pain, and he fatigued so easily for an 8-year-old boy. And yet he still found the strength to smile.
When had she lost that strength?
Tifa kissed Denzel's hair lightly, so as not to wake him, and went downstairs. Maybe a cup of tea will help me get back to sleep, she thought, as she turned on the overhead light on the stove and retrieved the kettle from the cupboard.
As she filled the kettle at the sink, the emptier she began to feel. Tifa set the kettle on the stove and looked solemnly around her kitchen. This was her bar, her business. Her successful business. Her children slept upstairs. Even though she had not carried them, Tifa still loved them with all her heart.
And she had great friends. People that had stood by her side to protect their planet from destruction. She still talked to them on a regular basis, Yuffie and Barrett mostly, and even those conversations were starting to sound rehearsed:
"How's my baby girl doing?" Barrett would always ask. "Have you heard from Spiky?"
"She's doing great. She likes keeping Denzel company. No, not yet," she would answer.
What had changed to make her feel so empty?
The kettle began to whistle. Tifa quickly and quietly removed it from the heat and turned off the burner. Her mind raced as she let her tea steep. She sat by herself at the table and pulled her knees to her chin. What happened to me? What happened to the girl that stood in the face of death and still had strength to smile?
That was always her job on her journey with her friends: keep everybody smiling. Keep everybody happy and hopeful. Of course, that job became more difficult after Aerith's death. Especially with Cloud. She knew he still carried that guilt with him.
His last connection to her, she thought bitterly and then immediately regretted. Aerith had been her friend, too, after all.
Had he changed her? Did Cloud have that much effect on her?
She shook her head slightly in answer to herself. Tifa took a sip of her tea, only to find that it had gone cold. How long had she been sitting like this? She glanced at the clock on the wall. It read half past four.
She let her knees down, wincing from sitting like that for so long. She lifted her mug again, but this time she looked at her reflection. Dark circles ringed her eyes. Her amber eyes had lost some of the sparkle that usually resulted from laughter. Her face looked gaunt, not reflecting the face of a 22-year-old young woman.
Tifa envied the children sleeping upstairs, so peaceful. It had been a long time since she'd had a good night's rest. She didn't feel tired, but knew she needed to try to go back to sleep. She rose from the table, poured her tepid tea into the sink, and rinsed out her mug. She emptied the kettle with the remaining water, turned off the overhead light, and crept back upstairs. But, she didn't return to her room.
The moonlight shone through the window, covering the room in a hazy, white glow. Cloud's room looked the same as the day he'd left nearly six months ago. Some clothes were strewn about the floor, clothes that she hadn't been able to wash. His bed remained unmade, as she herself had slept in here a few nights after he'd gone. She thought leaving it messy made it look like someone actually lived here.
Tifa padded lightly over to Cloud's closet but hesitated with her hand on the doorknob. She hadn't thought to check to see if he'd emptied it before he left. The chance of seeing it empty frightened her. What if it was empty? Did that mean he wouldn't come back? What if it wasn't empty? Would he still come back to clean it out? Or would he just forget?
Like he'd forgotten about her? About Marlene and Denzel?
Tears welled in her eyes and threatened to spill over her cheeks. She backed away from the door until she felt Cloud's bed and allowed her knees to buckle. How could someone you care for so much cause you so much pain? She thought angrily, balling her hands and grinding her fingernails into her hands. Is that it? Have you really forgotten me that easily?
He hadn't returned any of her phone calls. He hadn't replied to any of her text messages. She couldn't very well go out and look for him with two children to look after. It had been nearly six months, and it was as if he were a ghost that lingered in her life.
And he left her as a shell of the woman she used to be. The worst part is that she allowed it to happen. Maybe she'd tried too hard, loved him too much. That was all she'd wanted: to love him and him return her love.
Tifa reached over and grabbed his pillow. She pressed it to her face and inhaled deeply. It still smelled like him but faintly. Sweat, dirt, and a slight scent of hair gel. Just Cloud.
And then realization hit her. On her busiest days in the bar, surrounded by people, she felt alone. Spending time with Marlene and Denzel only made her feel lonelier still. Here in this room, Cloud's room, this is what she was now. Chasing a ghost as much as he was. Cloud pushed her away when he was home, and now being gone, he was pushing her further into her isolation. When had he become her embodiment of loneliness?
If he wanted her, then he would be there with her. If he loved her, then he would never have let her feel this way.
"But he's not," she whispered aloud to herself, letting her tears flow freely now. She let her isolation wash over her, her desperation for him reaching its breaking point. Tifa loved him; she'd loved him since she was a child of seven. He was her white knight, the only man she'd ever wanted. And he didn't want her back.
And she couldn't let him go.
By the time the sun was well up, Tifa still clutched Cloud's pillow tightly to her chest and silently prayed for her loneliness to never let her go.