A/N: I actually wanted to have this as the epilogue for the story 'His Tifa', but decided against it because this little one shot is just perfect in its own way.
There was nothing more ordinary than a cloudless and star filled darken sky that was named 'night'. The particular moment in a day when the sunlight merrily bid its goodbye as it descends and welcomes the moon.
Though apart from the musings in traffic between certain cars and pedestrians that seem to walk the face of the planet aimlessly to their chosen destinations, a familiar blond stood for a moment and watched the world pass by. As his eyes fixed themselves upon a familiar lady his hands still held onto a black garbage bag which he was totally unaware of at this very moment.
He was a handsome man in his way, or rather in a way that made every woman that entered the bar stop for a moment and analyze him from bottom to top. But he didn't seem to mind; rather he didn't seem to notice them. Not even when they would give him a wink or mention some short one liner. He never seemed to notice them, not how she did. But she couldn't help but always notice the way he would casually stroll past the women that had every inch of their souls targeting this particular man. Perhaps she shouldn't be all that jealous about it; after all, he didn't seem to ever notice them.
Or so that was what he thought, then again none of the somewhat 'men hungry' women ever seem to take an interest in his soul like she did. But although she sparked an interest in his soul he couldn't help but wonder just how to make this woman smile without making her cry. She wasn't like other women, especially not like the 'men hungry' women. She was unique, special in his eyes.
He didn't quite understand just how to express his feelings let alone stay long enough to tell her just how his heart actually comprehended certain feelings. There was something about his personality that didn't quite initiate what people call, conversing. He didn't quite understand fully how to carry out a conversation let alone continue it for at least more than a minute. He much preferred short conversations, simple ones. The ones that state purely what is on his mind and what he wants to discuss.
But with her, conversing wasn't all that easy. He couldn't just state purely what was on his mind with her, he needed to think and strategize just how he could say things to her. In all, it was simply difficult when talking to her.
It was all to do with his interesting personality that no woman could very well learn to understand let alone fall in love with. All but one woman who was completely obvious to her surroundings as she and their two adopted children ate dinner. He studied the way in which her eyes were leveled as she kept a still silence in the room as they ate quietly.
He could read her emotions like a book, because to him, she was simply the easiest yet hardest thing to understand. It didn't all completely make sense to him, but if anything, it made him think in some respects as he implored her beauty through the glass window. And it strikes him funny as he wonders just why this woman always waits for him. He wonders why the spot on the table opposite her is always set with a plate and cutlery when they ate, even when she knew clear and well that he may very well not make it home early.
He didn't quite understand why she would wait or even care for someone like him. There wasn't exactly anything special in the way he did things. Rather, he did mostly everything opposite of what a caring typical gentleman would. He was never the type that gave her striking pick up lines like some men he had come across in the bar on days he would help out. He wasn't there to hold her hand when she was sad, nor did he ever think twice about how she felt when he would purposefully make it home late just so he wouldn't have to face her.
But least to say, it did make him question his ways. If nothing, it only made the burden heavier for him.
He was able to put up with it for a while, watching the stars and forgetting the world like he easily could do. But soon it came to a point when he simply couldn't forget anymore. Because she was like a virus, like a bug that wouldn't leave his mind alone no matter what. Then as he struggled to think things through, he concluded that he was so utterly confused not just with life but with everything that concerned him for that matter.
There wasn't anything that made sense to him anymore; all but her.
She was the woman with long dark brown hair that smelt like ocean midst. The person that haunted his dreams every night but yet gave him a reason to smile.
And he still wondered what it was about him that earned her sincere total being towards him. He wasn't like the men who would throw themselves at her feet in the bar although; much to his likings he knew she wouldn't like that sort of men. That only gave him more reason to want to be in the bar to protect her from them. But though he knew she could very well protect herself, he couldn't feel but the need to still be her night in shining amour.
Apart from that, he also did not show any outmost interest of emotion to her. There was the occasional smile or laughter, but nothing more than that. Even as they were children he found himself in the same position, always being afraid of her in some respects. And admits all the nightmares he encountered in being a test product, nothing scared him more than her.
She was the type of girl that made his heart stop, his muscles flinch and his soul bursting into a million pyreflies. The type of girl that made his bones collapse when she smiled, and make him faint when he caught a whiff of her scent. And even though he cared for this woman so unbelievably much, he didn't know why he had found it so difficult to tell her just how he felt. Most of all he didn't understand why he was so nervous when in fact all she did was calm him.
His heart ached as he remembered forgotten promises.
"Promise me that whenever I'm in a bind, you'll come and save me."
And just like that, he promised her under the stars that night. But she would never know that he had promised her the world and everything that he was and could be in those two words.
"I promise."
He said it with dignity, with trust and love. He would never forget that night as they sat there together. He thought he would never see this girl again, never get to see her smile. But he did, and for that he would be eternally grateful. And silently he thanked the Cetra that watched him from the sky; for every pain and suffering he had been through, he wouldn't regret them because he wouldn't be here, standing outside their home watching her eat dinner with their adopted kids.
/"Uh, Cloud, you can let go of the garbage bag you know, or you could hold it till it turns into dust, your pick."/
His lips curl into a smile at the presence of the gentle Cetra and the cocky voice in his mind. He looks down wearily at the garbage bag and decides to let it fall into the empty garbage bin.
/"Everything's okay now"/
He chooses not to reply as he turns his eyes back up the window, but slightly startled he sees her brown eyes staring back at him.
"Are you going to stand out there all night?" she asks. "You know, if you want to eat outside all you have to do is ask," and with that she points a finger at the table outside, "We could have just eaten out there."
He shakes his head gently at her remark and results in giving her a sheepish smile.
"I was just thinking of the past," he answers much to his dismay at the frown appearing upon her face.
"Alright," she says calmly, "And just so you know, dinner's getting cold, it's your favourite tonight you know," she adds with a smile that tells him 'everything is going to be okay'.
"I know," he replies.
"Okay well, don't be thinking too long, I need your help in the kitchen later."
He nods his head and says, "I'm coming in now."
She gives him another smile and reaches out to close the window. He gives her a smile as she walks back toward the table and notices the ring at her finger and her hand that rests over her slightly swollen stomach. Soon he'll be a father, and they'll be parents. And he can't think of anything right now, not the past, or the pain and suffering they went through, just right there in that moment where they are an official family.
"Words aren't the only thing that tells people what you're thinking," he says softly, remembering what she had once told him.
And as he walks into their home and sits down at that empty spot opposite from her, he can't help but conclude that she was right all along, because it wasn't all about impressing her or trying to converse with her for that matter.
It was much more than that.
You know, being in love.