Cloud

Dedicated to Su-chan, my pronz mistress.

I own nothing.

ZackxCloud, but also slight (doomed) RenoxCloud at the end.

Enjoy.

-X-

"I Can Write No Stately Proem

As A Prelude To My Lay,

From A Poet To A Poem

I Would Dare To Say.

For If Of These Fallen Petals

One To You Seem Fair,

Love Will Waft Until It Settles

On Your Hair.

And When The Wind And Winter Harden

All The Loveless Land,

It Will Whisper Of A Garden,

You Will Understand."

'To My Wife' – Oscar Wilde

(I didn't want to use this one at first, but then it started to make

sense in the content, so I had no choice but to use it!

By the way, it is meant to say 'proem'.)

-X-

I wasn't interested when the Turk slammed the large box onto the surface of the bar, sending a loud thud resonating through the empty room, his breathing heavy from the energy exerted in the apparently strenuous exercise, but the almost perpetual sloping grin in place.

I refused to be interested.

Especially when the redhead declared that the box contained items from Shinra—'treasures', he called them, his blue eyes glinting in a way that put me on edge; it was clear that he knew something that I didn't. All the same, I most certainly wasn't interested.

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion, studying his angular face cautiously. "Whatever it is, Reno," I told him quietly, sternly, trying my best to look severe. "I don't want to know."

Reno made a sound in the back of his throat, but otherwise ignored me, raking through the contents, pulling out, at random, various alarm clocks, pens, notepads, and chucking them back in, unimpressed by them.

"It doesn't look incredibly interesting." I sighed, pushing the stray tendrils of blond hair back from my face, only to have them swing back into place. But, of course, the Turk dismissed my comment with a wave of his hand, digging around in the bottom of the box, as though looking for something in particular.

"Aha!"

"Oh god."

With one swift movement, Reno drew out a thin, black book, waving it in front of my nose as though it was some kind of trophy I was supposed to be impressed by or envious of. His grin widened in jubilance, spreading so far across his face that it was almost like the two red markings on each cheekbone were where the skin was being split by his smile. With a flourish, he swung his crimson ponytail over his shoulder, flicking the book open with one thumb.

"'Journal of Zack Fair'," He read, arching one scarlet eyebrow, his eyes glancing up to my face to see my reaction.

I felt as though the Turk had kicked me in the stomach.

"'SOLDIER, first class'." He continued, raising both eyebrows as he read. "Who knew Zack kept a diary?"

Reno's quiet snicker made me clench my teeth, although I was fairly certain that I would have vomited if I hadn't. Shakily, I raised a hand to my mouth, ready to stifle a cry should one come unbidden, the other reaching out for the book within Reno's grasp. He let me take it, leaning back on his stool as he eagerly watched me take in the first page.

"Wh—where did you find this?" I whispered, turning the leaf to read the next page. I only hoped that I didn't look as shaken as I felt, but I knew that I hoped in vain as treacherous tears swelled into my vision, threatening to fall. I could feel my lower lip quivering.

Reno merely slapped the side of the box. "What'd I tell you? Treasure, yo."

Treasure… It was the greatest treasure ever to be beheld by mankind, the residue of the life of its author. The sword would stand as a memorial to the fighter, but to the man…?

I couldn't take my eyes off it. Zack Fair. I turned back to the first page, scouring every millimetre of the untidy scrawl, the chaotic lettering, trying to verify that it was indeed written by the hand of the man I had loved.

"You're crying." Suddenly, the Turk wasn't grinning anymore, all traces of a smile swiftly fading from his face.

"I'm not." Never in front of him.

"Almost."

Tearing my watering eyes away from his name, I slowly, morosely, turned the slightly creased pages until I found the first entry. I gasped, my own name leaping out from the page at me all across it.

"… Could just stare at him, all day, every day. Cloud doesn't realise how perfect he is, but so fragile in his perfection… I couldn't say exactly how long I've been watching Cloud; I must have memorised every part of his face. Not just his face either… I can safely say that, tonight, I saw more of Cloud than I have ever... "

I closed my eyes, cursing how Zack's flattery still managed to make me blush, even three years after his death, but also experiencing a sharp, insistent wrenching at my heart at the memory that was as clear as the crystal my love's eyes had been. I sensed Reno lean over and clutched the journal to my chest: I didn't want him to read this. I didn't want anyone to read it. This was mine. This was Zack's and mine, and the first time we shared together. I wouldn't be able to bear having the Turk read this. He raised his hands in mock surrender, both eyebrows shooting earnestly towards his hairline.

"Cloud's still asleep. He's not stirring, even under my constant stare. I don't understand how he can't feel me watching him. He looks so peaceful, I don't want to disturb him, but I miss his eyes. I'm writing to stop myself from waking him, just to see those eyes. Even without the mako, Cloud's eyes are indescribable, and I absolutely adore them. Of course, no wonder he's tired this morning, if you know what I mean. Ah well. Means I can stare as much as I please."

Again, I felt that unbearable tug, as though the organ in my chest was being violently ripped in two. Shutting the book on my finger to keep the place, I stood, numb apart from this pain, and walked around the bar to get myself something strong and alcoholic, manoeuvring around the bar with one hand.

"Gods, it hurts to look at him. Never felt like this before. Feel as though I could do anything for him."

"Anything interesting?"

I shot the red-haired Turk a dark look, ruined by the fact that I had had no choice but to allow several tears to break free, which were rolling slowly down my face. The Turk's eyes widened, and I got the feeling that he was trying to think of something to say. Ignoring him, I pulled out a bottle, smashing the top off on the side of the bar.

"Woah," Reno's voice was merely a background slur. "You sure you should be doing that, Strife?"

I sat back down on my stool, slamming the glass bottle down on the surface next to me, opening the book again. Reno's stunned expression told me that he had never expected to be confronted by an emotional outburst such as this. He stared unashamedly at me, his mouth slightly open in wonder.

"… got me thinking… what if the day comes when I'm not there for him? If I were to die, what would happen to him?"

I couldn't help but wince as I read these fateful words: these words that the man I had adored had written in mere musing; these words that were a stab to my chest with each syllable. If I were to die…

"I can't stand the thought of leaving him. Sounds ridiculous, but I'm suddenly afraid. Stupid and irrational, but what if those eyes never open again? If I die in my sleep, I'll never see him again. I don't think I've even ever told him—."

"'—That I love him'." I span round at the voice at my ear, so fast that I almost knocked out that meddlesome Turk. I hadn't realised that he had been standing behind me, reading over my shoulder, prying into my business—the business that meant the most to me in the world.

"Fuck off, Turk!" I spat, snatching the little book away from his intruding gaze. My fists clenched as a languid smirk twitched the corner of his lip up. The surge of anger I felt rise up within me forced me to my feet, the strongest emotion I had felt in years, and with it came flooding back all I had kept suppressed since that day, which my love had so casually prophesised.

"Calm down, yo."

"Why?" I snapped back, bristling at his tone. I could see that he was searching for an answer, but before he could decide on something to say, I hurled the black book down onto the bar, the loud slap as it hit the surface ringing through the silence. Almost immediately, my anger dissipated, only to be replaced with a feeling of despair that was beyond unbearable. I seized a handful of my own blond hair, my other hand covering my face, as I sank back down onto my bar stool, my treacherous shoulders shaking uncontrollably as I began to sob helplessly into that hand.

"…Cloud?" I could sense Reno deliberating over whether or not to approach me. He obviously concluded that I needed comforting, as I then felt his long-fingered hand resting lightly, awkwardly, on my shoulder. I let out a shuddering cry, unable to hold it in.

"Shit, man, I'm sorry." He took a seat next to me, removing his hand. He placed it instead on the top of the bar, as though unsure of what to do with it. The usually arrogant and self-sure Turk seemed not to know what to do with himself in the face of my emotion.

Through my desolation, I also felt an acute sense of embarrassment: why was I breaking down in front of this man? Why was I breaking down in front of anyone? I had promised myself that I would be stronger than this. I was ashamed of the tears staining my face, and the fact that I had my face buried into my arms, which were crossed on top of the bar, crying.

I felt the Turk gingerly stroke my hair, surprised at the sudden contact. I considered shaking him off, but the action reminded me so decidedly of Zack that I let him continue; it calmed me. My sobs began to subside, as the tentative petting became more certain, the Turk's pale fingers raking through my hair. Slowly, lethargically, the pain in my heart still a sharp, agonizing ache, I lifted my head to face Reno. We stared at each other in silence, save for the occasional helpless gasp being torn from my lips, my tears beginning to evaporate from my cheeks, but the teary film over my blue eyes threatened to replace them.

Carefully, purposefully slowly, Reno reached out and brushed the tears away with this thumb, resting his palm against my face. I stiffened for a moment before leaning into the touch, realising just how much I had missed human contact. His hand was cool against my face, and I let my eyes flutter closed as he gently caressed my face, at that moment far from the loud-mouthed, supercilious Turk I knew. He was almost like—

I jerked away from him, my eyes flying open. Shooting him a warning look, I pushed my stool away from his, pointedly putting distance between us. He grimaced, almost in annoyance, raising a crimson eyebrow, suddenly reverting back to the man I knew he was with an irate sigh.

"I do have an ego, y'know, man." He muttered darkly under his breath, returning his hand to his side.

I didn't reply, inwardly cringing at my conduct. With a soft whimper that I couldn't help but emit, I turned back to the pages of the book, this time allowing the Turk to read over my shoulder of the night that I became irreversibly Zack's.

-X-

Thank you for reading.

Dagora.