So I figured out what the problem is: Tifa's too shy to tell Cloud how she feels, and Cloud's too reticent to take charge of the relationship, so they go on and on in this never-ending circle of shyness and silence! It takes something drastic like Cloud getting makofied and falling into the Lifestream for anything major to happen! Hahaha.
Say It This Way, Spiky is a series of seven oneshot drabbles. Just some cute ideas on the way our spiky-haired hero could pop the question; I had to share. The other chapters will be shorter than this.
Cloti forever!
Yeaaaahhhhhhhh!
Enjoy,
~LatteJazz :D
I. LIKE POWDERED SUGAR
It was a typical day at Seventh Heaven: wake up early, set up the tables, open the doors. Smile, serve the customers, take their money, repeat. Repeat 'til six o'clock in the evening, actually. Tifa really needed to hire more employees but, however successful the bar was, the gil disappeared as if her pockets had holes in them. Between repairing the bar and Fenrir, funding the children's schooling (though Barret always chipped in), and paying bills to Midgar's make-shift government, money had been quite tight as of late.
So when Cloud slipped two tickets to Loveless across the counter one evening, Tifa was more than surprised.
"850 gil?" She almost dropped the glass she had been drying. "Cloud?!"
"What?" He leaned over the counter and peered at the papers with as much worry as if there was a bug there that needed squashing.
"A piece!?" she almost shrieked.
"Yup. That makes 1,700, you know."
She set the tickets down and stared at him incredulously.
"Something wrong?" he asked, eyes calm and serious as ever.
Speechless, Tifa wasn't sure how to answer that question.
A flicker of worry crossed Cloud's brow. "I thought you absolutely loved Loveless."
She raised an eyebrow and pointed across the bar. "Because there's an old poster of it in the restroom? Cloud, this is ridiculous! 1,700 gil! The Saucer costs less than that! That's two round trips to Wutai! And of all the usele—"
His crestfallen face brought her tirade to a screeching halt.
"I can return them," he said simply.
"No, it's not like that. I'm sorry...it's just that, you do know how much this costs?"
"It's almost Christmas, Teef. Cut me some slack." She could have sworn she saw a smile tempt his features.
"Okaaaay.... If you don't like the play, maybe you can get your money back."
He did smile now and, rather triumphantly, slipped around the bar corner and tromped up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Was that whistling she heard?
Sheesh. I didn't know he liked Loveless so much. Tifa shook her head and reached for another glass.
LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL
The crisp, wintry night air and the thin dust of snow gave the streets of Edge a whole new atmosphere. A clean, "new-beginnings" sort of feeling permeated the air—at least, that's what it felt like to Tifa as she and Cloud trudged the snowy sidewalks, two people made tiny amidst the grey concrete buildings and skyscrapers. Up above, the neon lights of the theatre were made even more dazzling and colorful by the dark nighttime sky. Posters and advertisements flashed festively on each corner; gaudiest of all was the twenty-foot tall, spotlight-lit poster-woman for LOVELESS. Since Meteor, the theater had been gradually remodeled and now, the second week of December, its first plays were debuting.
They turned in their tickets and continued to auditorium, Cloud coyly taking Tifa's hand as they wove through the teeming masses of people. Rows and rows of crimson velvet seats tapered grandly to the enormous stage; the dim lighting made the illuminated stage curtains even more appealing. Hushed murmurings permeated the room from the carpeted aisles to the balcony seats above. Tifa thought she would have liked a birds' eye view of the play from the balcony, but Cloud led her past the staircases and past the middle section, all the way to the very front row.
"You know, this place reminds me of something," Cloud noted as he reached over to help Tifa with her coat.
"Reminds you of what?"
"That night at the Gold Saucer."
Settling into the deep cushions, Tifa gazed at the heavy red curtains and couldn't help but smile. "I'm surprised you remember that."
"'And now, the great hero Alfred will rescue the Princess Rosa!'" He feigned a grimace. "How could I not?"
Tifa giggled. "Wasn't it fun, though? You know you liked it."
He made a f ace.
"When does it start?"
"Any minute now, I think."
"We're so close to the stage! There not a single row in front of us." Tifa remarked.
He smiled, glancing slyly at her. "It's VIP seating."
The lights dimmed and the curtains swept sideways just as Tifa was about to ask what VIP meant.
LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL
"'My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey, in my own salvation and your eternal slumber.'"
The first half of the play ended and Cloud still didn't know what the "gift of the goddess" was, which of the blokes parading about the stage was the main character, or whether they were actually speaking English. Whoever wrote the thing was absurdly fond of abusing the comma.
He recalled Cid saying he had slept through everything but the ending; and while the play was definitely not holding Cloud's attention, he was far from falling asleep—the woman sitting next to him was infinitely more captivating than the play.
But with the end of each scene as the night moved on, his nerves stretched tighter…
Tifa, on the other hand, appeared to be absolutely enamored of the story unfolding before her eager eyes. Every so often he stole a glance her way. Sometimes she was on the edge of her seat in anticipation; she gasped in astonishment when one of the main characters was unexpectedly maimed; and once he thought he saw watery tears glinting in the dull light. Her mind was so wrapped up in it all, she didn't even seem to notice when his arm slipped around the back of her chair.
Cloud's own mind, however, was racing several hours into the future, repeatedly playing the same scene over and over again. His imagination never changed the scenario, but the words he planned to say were always changing. 'Tifa, we've been friends since'…no…'Tifa, can I ask you something?'…That's not it, either. His heart pulsed faster when the curtain pulled up, signifying the end of the first half of the play, and he still hadn't figured out the right words.
"Chocolate, water or wine, sir?" asked a loud voice.
Pop! His high-strung thought bubble suddenly exploded and Cloud leapt reflexively out of his seat, hand flying to the empty air behind his shoulder.
Uh-oh.
The way the server was staring at him!
He froze. Pretended to itch the back of his head. "I, uh…yes, please."
Tifa stood up and smiled sweetly. "He means he'd like a water." She took a bottle and sat back down. "Thank you." The server edged back and continued down the row.
"Sorry," Cloud mumbled, slowly sitting down.
Tifa handed him the water and opened her own. "After that emotional roller coaster, I don't blame you."
"What?" He stared at her.
"Having to leave the ones he loves only to be captured by the enemy, and then he falls in love with one of their women! Living in a cave! With all the foreshadowing and battles and emotional struggle of being torn between…." It took Cloud several seconds to decipher Tifa's enthused babbling. Wow…she was honestly enjoying this.
"…don't you empathize with him?" Suddenly she was looking intently at him.
He nodded seriously. "Yeah."
Satisfied, she turned back to the stage and her voice faded as Cloud found himself lost in her delicate, dark features and enticing skin...his face flushed and he looked away, heartbeat quickening.
The right words, the right words….
He was so terrible at this sort of thing.
LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL
All too slowly and all too quickly the fifth, final act was ending. Whoever wrote this must have been getting paid by the hour and trying to make as much as possible; even with the unfinished ending, Loveless was a considerably long play.
"...I don't understand. Not at all. But...please take care of yourself." A woman stood poised dramatically near her lover. At least, Cloud thought that was her lover...he was still mystified by the whole thing.
"Of course...I'll come back to you. Even if you don't promise to wait. I'll return knowing you'll be here."
Beside him, Tifa was sobbing into a tissue—the perfect opportunity to draw her to his chest and comfortingly massage her arm. But Cloud didn't take it—his hands were too hot and trembling.
And then there was a thunderous applause and the actors were taking their bows. Tifa clapped fiercely and stood up; and, being in the front row, Cloud wondered for a moment if he was the only one not offering Loveless his heart-felt, standing ovation. So he stood up, but more because Tifa was standing than anything else.
LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL
Outside, the cold, dark air gave him room to think and breathe. Stars twinkled above like brilliant dewdrops.
Crunch, crunch. With each step, the snow gleefully reminded him he was closer to...
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
Her heard her sigh contentedly. "Sort of. We should grab something before we go to Sector 7."
"Yeah. I'm starving," he lied. The only thing in his stomach right now was butterflies. Millions and billions of butterflies.
Several late-night cafés were still open, and warm scents of bread and coffee drifted occasionally across the air. They approached the main square of Sector 8 and turned into one of the shops.
He hadn't really planned this part out…
They took a table for two at the corner where the window looked out over the square. Cloud took a menu and had to stop himself from trying to hide behind it.
"You never told me—did you like Loveless?" Tifa folded her arms across the table and rested a chin in one hand.
He chuckled and glanced down at his menu. "It was sort of over my head."
"Really!" Gentle laughter lilted to his ears. "Are you going to demand a reimbursement?"
"I'm thinking about it," he said just for the sake of hearing her laugh again. Why was every little thing she did driving him crazy?
"Thank you, Cloud."
"What for?"
"The play. I really enjoyed it. And I know it wasn't exactly inexpensive."
"Of course. It was worth it." Just seeing her so happy made it all worth it. In his left pocket his fingers fidgeted nervously, turning a small box over and over. He cleared his throat. "Tifa, listen…" The words tripped on their way out and got caught in his throat.
She watched him patiently, clueless as to what he was trying to say.
"Uh, I—y-yaiouu—" Darn all these words getting mixed up with each other!
"Cloud, do you feel all right?" She frowned and leaned closer across the table, glancing anxiously at him from beneath long, hypnotizing dark lashes. Which just made it worse.
"Tifa, I, uh…"
"Cloud, you don't look well—"
"I'm fine." Now that Tifa mentioned it, he did feel a bit dizzy. Pull yourself together! Say it!
A slender hand reached forward to feel his forehead but he gently grabbed her wrist and pushed it away. "Tifa, stop it. I'm okay."
She drew her hand back and, tilting her head in question, stared at him dubiously.
"I'm sorry. I just kind of got lost in, uh…lost in…"
"Lost in thought," she corrected as a knowing smile shaped her lips.
"…your eyes," he confessed.
Her smile vanished into astonishment and, for once, she was the one tongue-tied.
"Tifa," he tried again. His heart was pounding as crazily as if a tiny hailstorm were taking place there. He continued, skin on fire and hands shaking again. "I--I've never…told you this before. But I've thought it too many times to count—when I wake up, when I go to sleep. Every time I see you. When I'm with you, and even when I'm not. This time I'm saying it again, only, out loud. And to the person who should hear it. Tifa: I love you." He paused, somewhat startled himself. Had he actually told her? He had! "I love you, and I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life with anybody but you." He got up, slipped around the table, and kneeled at her feet. From his pocket he pulled the little velvet box and opened it to face her. "Tifa Lockhart," he barely breathed, "will you marry me?"
She didn't answer. Tears were streaming down her face, and he read twenty different emotions there.
"Teef? Is that…a yes?"
She shook her head no and for an ineffably upsetting moment, Cloud thought that was her answer. But then she flung her arms around him with such ardor that he thudded to the floor. Several heads at the adjacent tables turned at the sound, but Tifa didn't care—she pressed her mouth against his ear and whispered: "With all my heart, Cloud Strife."
Outside the café's windows, snowflakes dallied to the ground like powdered sugar from the dark, cloudy night sky.