He'd watch the stars at night, when he thought everyone else had gone to bed, tucked warm and safe within the confines of the airship, far beyond the grasp of the sky that burned red with Meteor, and the world that was all but doomed because of the actions of a few depraved souls that had sent shockwaves of tragedy rippling through society like pebbles thrown into a picturesque lake.
Maybe he thought the sky would do him a kindness, and swallow him up right then and there. Deliver him from the demons that commanded him, and lift him instead to fly with the angels. It would have been miraculously fitting, if AVALANCHE had woken up to find nothing left of him but that damned cloak, and a few feathers from the wings that a select few were just so sure he was hiding. He called himself a sinner, but when those beautifully sad eyes reflected the souls of a million dying stars, hair alive on the wind like a sheet of delicate ebony silk, he was anything but. He was an outcast angel, vying for the freedom he deserved.
In the darkness of midnight, he'd talk to the sky. It was just the most intensely heartbroken sound. The words were never coherent, always just a whisper on the wind, belonging to the breeze, and the moon, and the entirety of the world, but never to the prying ears that begged to listen from the doorway, bittersweet blue eyes trying to close the distance between them, but never succeeding. Like the broken beauty craved deliverance from the brutal world, his voyeur only craved deliverance from him, and the magnificent, depraved spell that he seemed to cast on those around him. A spell of intrigue, and attraction; a spell of never knowing, always wondering, and, in the light of the moon, a spell of unrequited love.
But, like waves on a shore, washing away footprints left behind, the sun would always steal away the wings gifted by the embrace of the moon, leaving only broken souls and the bitterness of an empty void between clandestine souls. Cid would steal away unnoticed, wishing for the whisper of an angel in his ear, leaving Vincent there, wishing only that he had been there to hear.