Secret

She was a fake and she knew it. Everything was all a veneer. This whole image they held of her. It must be the pink… she thought absently as she walked down the street, smiling at everyone she passed. They were so easily deceived, all it took was a smile and a wave and they were completely taken in. They thought she was completely innocent. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this thought and the bile rose to her throat. Her stomach churned and she couldn't place what was what.

She always felt so guilty about this, so bad about it. Cloud, oh by all that was holy what would Cloud ever think if he were to find out? He'd never believe her. Never think that this wasn't some deranged scheme to get back at him, never think that maybe for once events happened outside of him. That this wasn't some petty retribution. But he didn't know her. He didn't acknowledge her. Still for his sake she tried to keep it hidden. To prevent that hurt. And… sometimes she worried. Senselessly over the little things. Like how she thought Leon knew, or at least suspected, something. But if he did he'd never said. There was nothing, no words, no accusations, no blow-ups. And no telling Cloud. So she walked on. She needed this. She felt dirty, and hurtful, and sometimes used, but she needed it. She'd agreed to it. She'd pondered and debated and debated again and this was what she reached.

Somehow she'd arrived here. Their spot. Their secret. She met with the man she was supposed to hate and fear as the rest of them did. But… she couldn't. She saw him before her and was drawn to him like a moth to a brightly burning flame. He was so captivating, entrancing, and dangerous. She knew it, but it didn't matter. She watched as his silver hair rustled in the evening breeze, calling to her enticingly, and she couldn't resist its pull. She never could. Struggle was useless. He always overwhelmed her senses. The way his hair felt between her fingers, the way theirs tangled together, his breath, his hands, his lips. Her eyes were drawn to them as always. Not perfect, never perfect they were smooth and cold and rough and warm all at once and she struggled to keep her legs still, to stand properly, not to fall. He may have started it but she reciprocated, prolonged. She'd fancied and imagined- gods help her had she imagined- and denied, shied away, and hid before it had happened and sometimes after too. She always met him now. And she loved it. She dragged her eyes away from those perfect lips, up and up his face, taking in his angel-like features (he even had the wing to go with them so pretty and soft). She grinned in pleasure as their eyes met just as she knew she would gasp as everything gave way, it always did, once their tongues met. It meant nothing to either of them; she didn't, wouldn't, pretend otherwise. There were none of the sweet words and reassurances she'd once imagined. And somehow right in this moment she couldn't muster up the strength to mind, to care, to protest. To pretend she didn't want this because she kept coming back. And that spoke their volumes for them. They didn't need words.

He was her secret and she was his. It was their dirty little secret. And the best of secrets are never breathed.

….

A/N: this was first posted as a part of the challenge drabble collection I entitled 'Misc' but I'm gonna post them all separately now i'll leave what i have up but now i'll post each entry as a oneshot that way i can write descriptions for them.

posted as a response to psycholone's challenge. Check out his profile for more about it. Anyway, the quote I used is: A man in earnest finds means or if he can't find creates them.

So the first pairing I did was: Aerith x Sephiroth M. (Sephiroth is never given a last name as far as far as I know so I used his Japanese voice actor's last name) I actually really liked this I might continue it... or maybe not I dunno it has some potential.

r&r.

oh and please vote in my poll.