Disclaimer: I own no one (not even the oc), nothing and hahahalol, …I just own whut you think I'm lacking: teh brain.
Remind.
I knew I was obsessed.
Another day, another hawking around … Tifa Lockhart. Watching her was never hard. Observing her was fun. Taking down notes (and memorizing them) was a good challenge. I watched Lockhart as she stretched like a feline in her room. The curtains were already opened since last night and I already noted down another point about it in 'All about Tifa Lockhart book No. III'.
So as I watched her stretch like a feline and—wait. No. I did watch. I used binoculars, of course. I'm just a poor man who doesn't have ultra fine, high powered magnifying eyes. Don't get me wrong. I own perfect eyesight—just not beyond perfect and glow-in-the-dark like a certain emo chocobo wannabe.
One might think why the hell I was inside this abandoned building opposite to the Seventh Heaven. The answer's not a mystery at all. I am 'keeping an eye' on one of Avalanche's boobies. Yeah, …keeping both eyes on her, rather. She pushed the panes outward, letting the breeze in. Oh yeah, baby, lift it higher—mother effin' wind had just to die out and a stupid bird flew down from nowhere, landing at the railing as it blocked my view. As always.
What was formerly in my field of vision was now a beady red eye with tufts of feathers blooming out. I shuffled my feet, making dusts spiraling up and that made me sneeze. I ducked when I thought she was glancing this way. Come on, Reno. This is a spying session!
I hated wind. And that bird. I seemed to have no luck when there's wind. But I could make it an advantage. The wind washes away noise (like my sneeze). Tifa left her room and I was left muttering in anger about the wind and all the forces that be. Odin knows how long I was sulking over a petty wind when I realized my stomach's having a concert on its own. I was starved.
Turks' rule no. 043 – Fill your stomach for best results. Any degrading in performance will lower your salary.
So I went to the nearest –Edgebucks– for my daily out-of-office coffee. Black coffee's okay and everything was pretty decent but one thing I loathed about it was that it's a commoner's way of saying 'Hey, look! I can haz make coffee waaay betar than Shinra!' Nevertheless, to contribute to the economy, I shall buy from it. It's a 'give and be given' thing. I still didn't get it no matter how many times Tseng told me about it. Bloody hecks, I'm a Turk with a thousand-plus-one elite skills, not an economist.
I always had my breakfast, lunch and dinner in time.
When I'm not caught up with her, of course.
Tifa Lockhart walked out of the bar; one of her routines, to get some supplies for the day. Sipping the bitter concoction of beans and hot water in my hand, I saw her walk into one of the places she never would go in years. Saw, this time. Saw. That's a break from routine. All my calculations for the day had been pulled off at the base and everything tumbled down. Simply talking, everything went wrong just with that. Then I realized she wasn't sending Marlene and Denzel to school. Wait, what day was it, Saturday?
I checked my watch to make sure. No. It's my favored Monday. Then why the hell was she there? She was entering a vehicle tinkering shop and it was obvious that those of her opposite sex were mentally undressing her and whistling at her. Those sick bastards.
Only I ogle her for myself and my interest, dammit. I have the license to do so. An official one, too.
Curious by nature, I walked in and threatened the watchful eyes with a simple look I've mastered and my EMR in hand. And the coffee at the other.
"Excuse me, sir. Do you have a really big spanner?" her voice was music to the ears amidst the metal buzzes and clanging but I still couldn't see her.
I searched for her high and low. High here meaning leaping up the worktables, looking for her hair while low includes kicking away some scrap metals and peering to unknown holes and under the tables. Ah-ha! Those were her sneakers.
"How big to you want it to be, sweets?" the man in the greasy apron asked, raising his uni-brow as he leaned onto a wobbly rack.
Shit. I want that rack to fall onto him that instant. Fallfallfallfallfall… Just fall, goddammit. Why won't you fall? Tifa bit her lip unsurely and shook her head.
"I don't know. This big, perhaps?" Tifa raised her well-toned arm, fist and all.
"Ooh, you want it bigger? I've got one that's much bigger."
Just die, you sick—
Before I even got to her direction, Tifa slammed her hands on the counter in front of her, making all eyes on her.
"I know what I want and if you don't have that AD12 type now, I'll leave you alone and I don't have to break every single piece of equipment here. Tell me, do you have anything like it?" she asked politely, sweetly even, though I know that she was seething inside. Damn, she looked hot.
The man gulped, nodding. "I think we do have that." He began looking through what looked like a list of thingamajig and pulled out a drawer. "Here you go, miss." He handed the desired item and she paid, beaming like a ray of sunshine. Seriously, how could a spanner make her happy? Just when I realized she was heading back to the exit, I ducked behind some racks. Close one.
Later that night, I casually walked into her bar. "How are you doin' sweetness?" I greeted.
"I'm okay. The usual?"
Liar. I sighed inwardly. Her day was absolute hell. Since she exited the mechanic shop. She almost tripped over a dog's leash at a streetlamp. Some of the apples she bought escaped her. (Of course, good ol' Reno came to save the day—apples in this case.) The next thing I remembered was someone accidentally sprayed water too hard and she had her second shower that morning. I didn't mind cause the free show's all mine. Yep, all mine. No one else was about though. Lucky me.
"Yeah." She slid the booze from the other end to me.
"How's yours?"
"Enlightening as always." I could've sworn her eyes lit up hearing that. She gave me an almost-knowing half-smirk.
"Ohh…"
The night ended without a brawl or anything. I knew she could take care of herself but there were times that yours truly had to play knight. 'sides, what was that 'oh' for earlier? She couldn't have figured out I've watched her for so long, could she?
Oh yeah, her birthday was the next day. May the third.
Now if I were her, what would I like for a birthday? … Hot sex. Scratch that. Then again, it went back to the basics. Flowers, uhuh.
Flowers it is, then.
On the morning itself, where the sleeping dogs lie quietly and only a few early risers were seen walking around, I brought a bouquet of roses. I had my sources. Heh. She was returning from her morning walk and had spotted me.
"Yo."
"Morning." She heartily returned a cheerful smile and her eyes trailed with interest at what I had in my hands.
As I raised the bouquet, I was saying "Y'see, … Happy birthday Lock—"
Whoosh! The wind blew hard and an army of birds swarmed the roses. Bloody hell. Petals scattered everywhere and all that was left was just a rose. The others were snatched away by those flying devils.
I hate wind. Goddamn wind. And that bird with its brethren. Wanna switch places now? I could take any of their places now.
Tifa loosened her clenches at her hips.
You two think you're so good, do you? Huh, do you? You and the bloody flying freak.
And I wasn't really watching what she was doing at all.
How does it effin' feel to be effin' humiliated in front of the effin' person who you effin' lik—watch?!
While I was inwardly cursing the wind and that feathered monstrosity, Tifa took the lone rose left in my hand and gently inhaled it. I had to thank my ability of having photographic memory for I wasn't paying attention to all of her actions. Later, I realized I actually treasured and savored that small piece of memory, scanning her from top to bottom.
Damn, I sound so good that I might rival that barking rocket scientist Highwind. The multiple uses of the eff-word. —Eh?
That movement was so fast and I blinked, trying to register what Tifa had just done to my face. Cheek, rather.
…Eh?
Let me rephrase that. What the eff just—she, aw, heck. Damn, that felt…refreshing.
Tifa had tiptoed up to me and gave me a soft kiss before throwing me into the pits of butterfly hell by smiling in that wildly innocent smile of hers I had always found endearing. Like how a child loved all the colors though it didn't make a sense at all.
"Thanks. That was wonderful." She called the flower petals that was scattered all around by the wind 'wonderful'? Not that I hated the compliment, but… Mental note: Thank the wind someday. Not the bird, but the wind. I never knew a single compliment from her made my heart fluttery and ache. She scrutinized me and laughed softly when she had done doing so.
"Reno, you look as red as your hair." What. A way. To burst the bubble. I composed myself and found my voice.
"Sugar, you know the real reason of why this blush was brought about. You are the reason." Her laugh ceased and she stared—no, glared? She didn't narrow her eyes. Instead, her dark eyes beautifully lit up and enlarged, as if trying to swallow you for no apparent reason. She glared at me like I'm some sort of … haunch of meat as bait for wild wolves. Maybe like a lowlife.
"Oh, yes. In fact, I perfectly know you've been lounging around in that stinking old building with that red hair of yours here and there, sneaking around, before you retire for the day by being the very last customer in my bar. I also heard your sneeze echo at the opposite building of the Seventh Heaven. I'm not that dull," she sneered. "I don't know if you're that jobless or bored but it's been weeks. …And you call yourself a Turk. Just say it out loud if you have a point to get across."
The buzzard was pressed and she got the correct answer! 100 points for your first try! No, that wasn't correct. Fire in the hole! That sounded in style.
"Damn it, Lockhart. I didn't know you'd kno—"
"Call me by my name. It wouldn't hurt, would it?" She smiled again.
That smile. Wildly innocent. Plus sweet.
I wondered if she's wild in bed too. Heh. Before finding out, I had a bird to kill. The one that was always perched at her balcony. That one. It's just plainly asking for instant death.
From that moment, I'd try hard to …whatcha call that? Woo her. Yeah, baby. The chances were endless. Those wonderfully pale, long legs… —Oh, how I coveted to be kicked with passion by her – though I perfectly know there are other uses of them when I get to lay my hands on them.
"… Tifa," I mumbled, hoping it wouldn't be heard by her.
Well, that wasn't so hard. It rolled out easily, meeting no resistance like an ulcer in my throat. Like it's agonizing to be called by yours truly. Cheesy, yeah. In which I hoped she wasn't silently making fun of my sudden show of obedience. I heard Tifa Lockhart has powers. Shit, it worked on me, too. Frickin' obedience. I thought it's only the Pres…
"Yeah?" she asked. I wasn't calling her name. I was saying it out loud but ehh…
"What am I to you?" I blurted out.
"A perverted stalker who has no sense of shame, let alone modesty for your stalking skills," she bulleted, followed with a child-like grin. With that, she walked back into the bar with her hips swaying sensually, her legs kicking softly and the white lace at her upper half winking back at me. She held the rose fast in her hand, twirling it.
Hells yeah! That's a go-ahead, no?
I didn't realize I was actually grinning alone like how the usual 'moron Reno' was. All I could remember was 'perverted stalker' and 'alone'. That's me alright, but I am always full of surprises. I knew I don't have to disappear anymore when I'm 'checking her up'. And I had a hunch that she would invite me to her small party later.
I recalled the last note I had written was "Tifa Lockhart may lack the playful spunkiness in Yuffie, the klutz in Elena and the ethereal beauty in Aerith but what she owned was simply a mystery. I'm in the throes of digging it up and keeping it to myself. Finders keepers, y'all."
I remembered all that like it was yesterday—freshly imprinted. I had done my epic quest of sniping that cursed bird last week. Amazing how long a bird could live…
Looking at Tifa in my left arm sleeping like a baby simply made me feel at bliss. In my right arm was my small, female carbon copy having the same red hair as mine, Elly, with her chicobo smeared with drool and bite prints. Beautiful. I went back to sleep, sandwiched by my two beloved.
a/n: Yay, look at the random bunnies hopping around! This is my second 'I'. It's fun to stretch, bend and twist. Haha. Hafta admit, this is kinda hard to type since my fingers are healing. Oh, there might be some typos and gaps… *shrug*