2. Désenchantée

A/N: Please read the first chapter. This story is being rewritten.

The first beating came when I was eight years old.

My mom had recently died in an accident. He came home really late one night.

He wasn't drunk. He was perfectly conscious of what he was doing. It didn't stop him.

The second beating came when I was nearing sixteen.

It was the end of my sophomore year. He would only pay for my school and the food. Everything else that I wanted, I had to pay for.

He almost always ate in cheap restaurants or ordered take out. The days I worked, I ate there. The days I went to Cloud's, I would grab a little something on my way out, or if I spent the whole night, Cloud and I ate pizza or we would cook a little something. The remaining nights, I did some cooking.

The last time my father and I had eaten together was three weeks ago.

It was at the end of April that it happened. I was home, doing some homework, and he was in the living room, watching television. I hadn't eaten anything since noon except for an apple in the afternoon, and I was hungry like hell. I didn't think twice about going to ask dad if he could lend me some money to order something. I was sure he hadn't eaten yet. He told me there was some stuff left in the refrigerator. I was heating the meal in the microwave when he came in and started to hit me.

I never understood what exactly had come over him.

After it was finished, I took off, leaving him yelling behind me. I caught a glimpse of myself in the window on my way out. A bruise was forming on my right cheek, and I could tell it would be nasty. My lip was split and there was a bump on the back of my head. I had bruises all over my sides on a few on my arms.

I was used to the occasional pushes or slaps. But the beatings? Nobody can ever get familiar with them.

I had been wandering aimlessly for about an hour before I broke down crying near a run down dinner. The air was cold, and it had been raining a few hours ago so the ground was still wet but I didn't care. I heard a few cries near so I tried to muffle my sobbing but there was nothing to do. I didn't want anybody to find me.

It didn't take long for my crying to subside. I didn't move from my spot as a group of guys got into a fight a little farther. I could see them from where I was, but I doubted they could see me. From this distance I didn't recognize any of them, but I was sure they were from my school.

I spent nearly thirty minutes observing people and cars passing by me.

It was Vincent Valentine who found me.

He didn't say anything at first. He just walked by and plopped down next to me. I was leaning on the wall, hugging myself, and he had his knees drew in front of him, his forearms resting on them.

His face was all bruised, too. He told me later it was from the fight I had witnessed.

His hair was shorter, then, but he had still tied a red bandanna around his head. He had jeans, a tee shirt and a jacket on. I was in sweatpants and tank top. He gave me his hoodie and a cigarette. He asked me if I had gotten in a fight. I told him it was something like that. He told me his name and gave me his number. I did the same. He gave me a ride home around midnight.

I never called him. He never called me

When I saw him in September at the park, we talked a little, and he introduced me to his friend.

That was when I met Cloud. I transferred to Nibelheim Private Academy not long after that.

I had only see Vincent three times in my life. So when Zack parked his car in front of my apartment building, I felt like shooting myself at the sight of him waiting in front of the main doors.

I knew why he was here. He was aware of my relation with Cloud and wanted to talk to me about it. Or out of it.

I knew it was the cowardly thing to do, but I really didn't want to face him.

We were gone before Vincent even noticed us. Thankfully, Zack didn't ask questions. At least, not until we reached my workplace.

"Are you sure you work here?"

"Zack…"

"No, seriously, Teef, this building looks like it's about to destroy itself."

"That's very nice, Zack. I'll see you tomorrow."

I got out of the car, ignoring him. It was true that the bar was a bit… dusty. But the inside was nice enough, although 7th Heaven certainly wasn't the big spot in town. The clientele was mostly composed of harmless drunks who cried about their moms or whatever the whole night, and perverted old men who spent their evening staring at the waitresses' butts.

I watched as Zack's car sped off, soon disappearing at the end of the street, before setting foot in the restaurant. The only people in besides the kitchen staff were Shera, a waitress, and a drunken guy who was always there. I smiled a little at the sight of Cid. I waved at Shera, then went to change in the employees' room. The uniform wasn't comfortable: the blue polo was too tight, and the black skirt was too short. We could wear tights at least, and were forced to have clean, black shoes. I wrapped up the black apron my hips, and put my long hair up in a ponytail. There was a mirror inside my locker and I turned a bit to look at myself.

The girl stared at me with jaded eyes and a dull expression. She looked annoyed, her mouth set into a neutral line. Wisps of dark brown hair framed her face. I was surprised at how my eyes were lifeless. I never really took time to observe myself in a mirror; in the morning I usually did my hair and makeup in less than three minutes so not to be late, and never paid attention to how I really looked.

I didn't like the image of the girl, the reflection of myself. I felt as though I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders when I certainly didn't. I wasn't spoiled—far from it. I didn't have everything I wanted. My father slapped me, and most of the times I couldn't even blame the alcohol for the hits. I had one friend whom still loved me even though I didn't pay her as much attention as I should have. I was in love with a guy who used me for sex.

I barely admitted to myself that I loved Cloud, but I knew it was the case. The bastard had stolen my heart and didn't seem on his way to return it.

"Bloody hell," I whispered, savagely closing my locker's door and exiting the room.

When eleven o'clock rolled around, I was dead on my feet, and I was grateful when Jackson, the manager, didn't keep me longer than necessary. I had a bus to catch. Or not, I thought as I left the restaurant. Cloud was there without his car, the gallant knight escorting me home.

"Are you stalking me?" I deadpanned, walking past him.

"Would you like that?" He started after me.

"You're sick."

"It was a joke."

I shook my head.

"Tifa." I ignored him. "Teef," he said, softly this time. I let him grab my hand. I hated how weak I could be.

"I'm not having sex with you tonight."

He sighed, his grip on my hand slackening until it was dangling by my side again.

"Not everything is about sex, Tifa." There was a flicker of annoyance in his voice.

"It is with us."

"Because that's what you want it to be."

I didn't deny it. As a matter of fact, I didn't say anything. Because there was nothing to say.

I chuckled. I was such a liar. There was a lot to say, actually. So much. But I couldn't. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

"What's so funny?"

Everything. "Nothing."

"Come on, you can tell me."

I wanted to—I wanted to tell him I found my life ridiculous. Pitiable. Not worth it. That this arrangement between us hurt me more than it gratified me. That I loved him even though he didn't love me. But I kept my mouth shut.

"It's nothing," I said after a while. He left it at that.

When we got to my apartment, he stayed a few feet away, hands in his pockets. It meant he didn't want to talk anymore. He was looking away, head tilted to the side. Tell-tale signs I knew so well.

"Thanks for walking me back." I didn't face him.

His arms wrapped around my waist from behind as I fumbled with my keys. His lips dropped to my neck.

"I wish you wouldn't trap yourself like that," he murmured, each syllable a caress.

My body stiffened. He waited a few seconds, then sighed when I kept on being silent.

"Good night."

I closed my eyes as I listened to his footsteps fade away.

My father was watching TV as I got inside, the same thing he always did every night of his life.

"Hi," I mumbled, partly wishing he wouldn't hear me. His eyes never left the screen. The volume was too loud. I didn't mention it.

My room was small, barely big enough for my bed and my night table. After getting into my PJs, I curled on my bed, drawing the covers over my head in the hopes of drowning the sounds coming from the television. It didn't work. I had homework to do, but I wasn't feeling up to it. I wasn't feeling up to anything much these days.

So I tried to sleep, but after an hour, I couldn't take it anymore. I kicked the covers away, getting tangled in them in the process, and went into the living room. Dad was sleeping, head thrown back, snoring as loudly as humanly possible. The TV was still blaring. I stood standing for a full two minutes before grabbing my uniform and a change of underwear, throwing them into my bag, and exiting the apartment, making sure to slam the door on my way out.

Cloud answered on the final ring. "What it is?" He sounded pissed. I didn't blame him.

"I want to see you."

Silence. Then, "It's the first time you say that to me."

"Does it matter?" I snapped. "I want to see you now. I'm on my way."

"Alright."

He hung up. It meant he was on his way. I waited at the nearest bus stop. He would know where to find me. And surely, not even ten minutes later, his car pulled up. I got in, immediately leaning across the console to kiss him.

He pulled back. "What happened?"

"Does it matter?"

"You keep saying that."

"Does it matter?"

Cloud's expression suddenly became serious. "It does."

Fuck.

I hadn't been expecting that.

I hated myself. I always pestered him with questions of the genre, hoping he would answer the way I wanted him to, but knowing he wouldn't. This time, he had proven me wrong.

I wanted to cry. Instead, I turned away from him, staring out of the window. The car was still parked.

"Sorry to have bothered you so late." My voice was lifeless.

Cloud cursed. I jumped when he hit the steering wheel.

"Damn it, Tifa." He scratched his jaw. "Fine."

He started the car, and as soon as we got to his house, he got out as quickly as he could, not waiting for me. I went after him, doing my best to be discreet so as not to wake his mother. When I got into his bedroom, he was throwing his hoodie across the room in frustration. I watched as he got in his bed, his back facing me.

Making decisions was hard.

"I—" My voice cracked. "I couldn't stay there."

I saw the muscles in his back tighten.

"What happened?"

Cloud didn't know about my father, other than we had a bad relationship. I had never been able to tell him, saw no reason to. I avoided him when I had bruises. He didn't ask unnecessary questions.

"Nothing." I began to take out my pyjamas. "Honestly. I just couldn't stay there."

I crawled in the bed, kneeling next to him. I need to tell him everything surfaced again, and it took all my self-control to supress it. I couldn't do that.

He rolled around until he was on his back. I could barely make out the outline of his features.

"Get some sleep."

"I don't want to sleep," I whispered.

He reached up to swipe some of my hair behind my ear. It was a strangely tender gesture coming from him.

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"I don't care."

He didn't protest, and if he noted my urgency as I kissed him, my hands wandering towards his sweatpants, yanking them down.

"Tifa—"

"What?" I said, out of breath. His grip on my waist tightened. My shirt found its way on the floor. He sat up slightly, and placed an open-mouthed kiss right below my breasts. I sighed, running my hands through his hair. He brought me down with him as he fell back on the bed.

"Just know that I care, alright?"

At his words, my mind blanked, and my body went on auto-pilot. I was only faintly aware of what I was doing, and Cloud didn't seem to realize it.

Nobody ever seemed to realize it. Nobody ever realized anything. They were all too blind, too preoccupied, to selfish, too fucking happy to realize anything. It was easy to deceive people, to make them think everything was perfectly fine. To add a bit of drama in your life when needed not to arouse suspicions—since, after all, nobody had perfect lives. Who would want that.

Cloud said he cared, and it made me want to laugh. To laugh until my sides hurt, until unstoppable tears ran down my cheeks, until I collapsed from exhaustion.

Nobody cared. Care, love, like—they were all words that were thrown around so easily. How could you know if you truly cared for someone? When it was too late? When they were so far gone your help wasn't worth shit and your actions useless? I didn't know. I don't think I had ever known.

I loved Cloud, and that was the only thing that kept me anchored. I needed him in my life. I needed to feel needed. Did I care what happened to him? I did, in my own twisted way.

As he slept soundly, one arm thrown around my hips, I stared at the ceiling, unable to let go of his words and my thoughts. I wanted to rip my brain out.

Cloud's cellphone vibrated, and he shifted, but didn't wake up.

Finally, I closed my eyes.

"Good night," I said to myself.

A/N: The two next chapters will be posted next Friday! After that, the story will have an irregular updating schedule, unfortunately.

Song: Désenchantée - Kate Ryan