Tweekerz A/N:
I would have never, ever, ever, ever, ever thought that I'd be writing for the FF fandom. Seriously. Never.
CloTi just draws me in soooo much. I absolutely love this pairing. Strange…because I'm an avid slash lover, and FF is filled to the brim with beautiful bi-shounen boys…
Warning: Angst
Disclaimer: Don't own it, never will.
Cloud, where are you?
Delete.
Hey, why haven't you called back?
Delete.
It's Marlene's birthday. She misses you.
Delete.
I'm worried. Please…please, just call me okay? Just call me.
Delete.
Wherever you are, please know that I'll—we'll be waiting here for you. Come home.
Delete.
CLOUD, p-please! Answer your damn phone, pick up, pick up!
Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete.
Nimble fingers tapped frantically along the glowing pads riddled across the cell phone, each voice message permanently erased as Cloud went down the list. He repeated the action until his thumb practically throbbed with a dull ache, until the white paint on the 7 button came away chipped and faded. With a weary sigh, Cloud snapped his cell shut and shoved it into his pant's pocket, eager to forget about the device entirely.
All those messages had been frantic pleas and concerned inquiries from the rag-tag team of fighters he liked to call his friends. He didn't like the fact that most of those voicemails were from Tifa.
He frowned, rubbing a hand through the blond spiky strands of his hair. He usually never bothered checking his messages, knowing that Tifa's distressed pleas to come home would forever engrave in his mind and further make him pull away from the world, from the warped reality he was cloaked in. Maybe that's why he never bothered listening to the messages to begin with—he didn't want to hear her voice, not like that.
The last remaining message in his inbox had been from Yuffie; she had sounded distressed in the message, her voice tapering away, but Cloud knew it was a farce. Yuffie tended to call and leave him cryptic messages, the kind that sounded urgent but in truth were only counterfeit—fake enough to get him to come home. He had fallen for it once. She was young, that much he knew, and she was still a bit mental, in a teenage sense of the word. Yuffie's memo had been the last, but that was over five months ago. After that final voicemail, he hadn't received a single phone call or message since.
In a way, he was rather relieved to know they wouldn't be calling him any longer, particularly Tifa, who's voice always seemed laced with disappointment when she called. He briefly wondered why she hadn't called him yet. It wasn't like her to just stop calling, regardless if he didn't respond.
'It's a good thing,' he reassured himself, leaning into Fenrir.
Tifa had stopped calling; she needn't worry any longer.
Maybe she had finally given up on him.
Tweekerz A/N:
- Here's the first chapter. Agh. Please leave a review!