Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own any of the boys. I just like to play with them once in a while. Square's the genius behind all of them, so don't sue the broke college student, ne?
Author's Notes: This started out as an excuse for me to write myself some yummy images of a pairing that's practically non-existent. It's evolved into becoming more than a shameless PWP – yes, it actually does have some plot! Stay tuned for all the drama. ::grin::
Sea of Illusion
-prologue-
A dream. All but a dream. Vincent lay wide awake, dark eyes watching the shadowed ceiling. The constant hum of engines was even louder now that the Highwind was drowned in the silence brought by the night. The mattress creaked softly beneath him as he forced himself to sit up. The thin sheets crumbled around his waist, loose, haphazard strands of silky ebony cascading over bare, pale shoulders. Vincent released a breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to ward off a sinus. His conscience was cruel – lately even more so than before. The look in those eyes, the glistening shine of green obviously enhanced by mako infusion, haunted the dark hours of the night with dreams he was far too embarrassed to even recall during daylight hours. He ran mildly trembling fingers through long tresses, revealing his unusual blood red visage to the rest of the slumbering room. He saw that Cloud was still soundly asleep on the only other bed across the room. Red XIII raised his head to look at him from his spot upon the floor. Vincent shook his head, not trusting his voice to explain himself, and lay back down upon the now cooled mattress.
A strange sort of familiarity always lingered after those dreams and yet he could not place it. Those eyes always remained, however. The intense look they held, the cold exterior hiding whatever was happening within. Vincent threw his right arm over his eyes, forcing his mind to clear, beckoning restful sleep. After the last few days of nothing but running – figuratively speaking – all over the world, even he was starting to tire, even if he would never admit it. Exhaling quietly, he turned onto his left side, facing the wall framed by the claws producing from his stretched arm across the mattress. The metal caught the faint light of approaching dawn. Fingers flexed once, twice, and upon deciding that he was far too tired to think about anything else, forced crimson eyes shut.