In Our Own World
Summary: FFVII oneshots
*****
CHAPTER 2: LOVE AND HATE
Love and Hate, CloTi AU
Prompt: a 'prompt/idea/thing' from ObsessiveCompulsiveValkyrie (see end)
Inspiration: bits of stuff from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows; Neil Gaiman's The Dream Hunters (illustrated by the immensely talented Yoshitaka Amano of FF fame); Kumi Koda's I'll Be There video (One of my favorites! The location is truly beautiful and Kuu-chan looks so laidback); Le Portrait de la Petit Cosette, the anime soundtrack; and OCV's Blood, Sweat and Tears (you should read it, it's a wonderful CloTi fic you can really sink your teeth into ;D)
Genre: Romance/Angst
Summary: In this place, the lines of love and hate are blurred... How then do you love when your soul is not your own?
A/N: Just when I thought I couldn't get any weirder, I come up with this. Be warned, my fried brain is on a twisted high from all of my exams, so this might be a little strange…
Oh, and just so you know, Cloud is a little OOC in this fic. The closest my Cloud would probably be to the Cloud we know is when he's trapped in Mako and/or being controlled by weird stuff...
.. =3 .. For OCV, who saved me from major writer's block and kicked my whiny butt back to work. Thanks, T! Hope you feel better soon!
DISCLAIMER (for this chapter): I so do NOT own that line near the end. Three guesses where it came from! As if I have to ask.
...
I hate her.
In this forsaken place, there is room for no other emotion but hate. It is all I know... But never--in all my years as a human or in the eons I have spent as a slave to the creature I am forced to call Mother--never have I felt anything like this. A pure, all-consuming hate that knows no bounds. Never have I felt anything so encompassing, so intense that it weaves itself into the very fabric of my being, twisting me, shaping me to her will.
I hate her.
I was an utter fool. I created my own demon, my own hell. How could I have known then that a single act, a single moment of hesitation would prove to be my undoing? Had there been some kind of warning, I would have called upon every ounce of darkness in my being and taken her soul. Then she would be nothing. She would own nothing... But no. I faltered, and that split-second of weakness cost me my freedom.
I hate her.
Why, you ask?... Hmm, why, indeed. Perhaps you will understand if you hear my story...
...
...
...
...
Book I: Of the Past...
*****
First, you must know that my world is full of a great many evils... Twisted, horrific monsters that hide in the shadows, the dreaded nightmares of children come to life... Terrifyingly beautiful demons that are the embodiment of the human race's lust, greed and sin... Spirits and enslaved souls like me, who steal other people's souls to make more of us... And all these creatures hide just below the surface, waiting for the chance to attack that comes when humans drop their guard long enough to dream.
Mother is one such creature. Those of us whose lives she owns are forbidden to speak her name. But we all know what she is, what she does. After all, we lived through the same things that we put our captured souls through.
Once, a very long time ago, I was human, just as you are. A young man with marvelous prospects and untapped potential struck down with illness too early in his life. I felt it was unfair that my life was ending too soon, and so when Mother came to me in my dream, I held on to the promise of longevity, of immortality. If only I had known then...
But there is no room for remorse. Mother does not allow remorse in her children. Only hate.
Time is not measured here in seconds or days or months or years, but in how many souls you capture. We do not discriminate. In this place, everything is fair ground. We take those who are healthy, secure and full of life as well as those who are miserable, desperate and dying. In our eyes, they are no different.
But she was. She was different.
Even now, I do not know where the danger lay in her. Perhaps it was in her eyes, those crimson depths that held me in their grasp the moment they met mine...
Perhaps it was in her graceful body that was pure and untouched and promised pleasure and passion to whomever possessed her...
Or perhaps it was in her heart, the truly gifted heart she owned that had the immense ability to love and be loved in return...
Whatever it was, she had captured me completely. I should have sensed the threat when I entered her dream, should have felt all the love she had for the people who surrounded her even in her dreams. Surely someone as full of hate and as saturated in evil as I was would be repulsed by the love and care she bestowed upon the fortunate people she kept close? Perhaps...
But as you will soon discover, in this place, the lines of love and hate are blurred, and you cannot tell one from the other.
I was weak! An utterly foolish, ungrateful, incompetent weakling--and Mother punished me as such. For an eternity and a half that lasted for a second, I felt Mother's green flames engulf my body, their lashing tongues scorching me and whipping at my raw flesh. I screamed in pain and terror, fueling Mother's anger and pleasure.
But she was alive and her soul unharmed.
I didn't know it then, but from that moment on, she owned me.
It was in my nature to hate her. A soul enslaved for too long, set free for a solitary moment... only to be enslaved again, this time by a master much stronger than before whose grasp was infinitely more resolved. I did not understand it then, and so I rebelled. I saw her as one of us, a different kind of evil, but an evil all the same and one that must be avoided at all costs.
I tried to fight against her pull, but Mother had ordered me to take her soul and I had been the first to touch her dream. It was an unwritten and unspoken rule among those who wandered the dream plane that whoever first laid claim to a dream had the right to take it. Finders keepers. And not even Mother could break that rule.
And so I was sent back. Mother was too eager to have new souls brought to her. It nourished her, you see. Our greed and pride and lust and fears as humans fed Mother and sustained her. If Mother had known then that the young woman she had thought to be insignificant and worthless would deprive her of a soul and teach her that she was not as omnipotent as she thought was, Mother would not have sent me back. But Mother didn't know and I was forced to go to the young woman and face her once again.
She told me her name was Tifa Lockhart. In the waking world, she owned a bar and lived in a small house with her brother and sister. Her parents had died when she was young, but they had been taken in by a gruff but kind man. She had no husband or lover, but she had many friends... I did the best I could. I offered her the same things Mother offered me and more:
Immortality... but she had dealt often enough with death to know that it was inevitable.
Wealth... but she had long since learned that ill-gotten wealth did not last and what little money she owned was earned through hard work and perseverance.
Fame... but she had all the love she needed from her family and friends, she did not need the adoration of others.
Marvelous powers thus far unheard of... but I had not known then that she already had a different kind of power I had never heard of that would chain me to her and free me from my bondage at the same time.
I offered her all I could think of to tempt her. But it failed. All I offered, she turned down.
When I asked her what she wanted, she did not answer, simply smiled at me. A smile that was startling in its beauty, because I had long since forgotten what beautiful looked like. There were demons who roamed the dream plane who called themselves beautiful, but this was a farce, a mask to hide what they truly looked like.
This woman, Tifa, had a beauty that seemed too... real to be a mask. Her lips bowed sincerely and the corners of her mouth turned cheerfully upwards and her eyes... those crimson orbs glimmered with something I couldn't put a name to.
I left her dream, shaken, frustrated and confused. How could one be so content with one's life? Temptation was something humans could not resist. Even I, as a human, had been tempted enough to believe Mother's lies, and it had led to the demise of my soul. Why was Tifa so different?
For how long I stayed entrenched in my thoughts of her, I do not know. All I remember is that my hatred for her truly strengthened at this moment. Here I was, trapped in the dream plane, enslaved by a being of pure evil, while she was... happy. I had been so immersed in hate for so long that I no longer remembered what 'happy' was, what it meant… but I knew it meant she was different. I hated her for having that happiness while I wallowed here in hate.
I hated it! I hated her!
But I couldn't stay away. Not for long. I fought again. I tried resist her pull, but I couldn't. I entered her dream again. And again. And again.
Tifa showed me her life: her two siblings, and how she always helped her little brother with his homework and how she tucked her little sister in every night. I watched as she pressed her lips to the child's forehead and ruffled the brown hair there. I almost laughed at how mundane it was, and to think that this might be her secret! It was impossible!
But the gentleness with which she ran her fingers through the little girl's hair and the look on her face as she watched the sleeping child --happy still, but softer somehow-- suddenly made me think of what it would be like to have those same fingers running through my own hair and those same eyes looking at me in that same way. It made me ache... It made me ache as I had never ached before.
I didn't understand it and my hatred for her deepened all the more.
She showed me her foster father. He was gruff man with a voice that was like thunder --deep and rumbling, yet loud and cracking like a gunshot. His face was dark as ash-covered rock and his build just as strong and towering, but when he looked at Tifa, his granite eyes would soften and his voice would grow lower, like the calming of a storm.
How did such an insignificant girl tame this giant of a man? For it was clear that she had managed to bewitch him. But how? I longed to understand, to be given answers so that I may be able to glimpse this woman's soul and claim it... for Mother? That might have been my intention at first, but now I wasn't sure.
That wasn't the only mystery surrounding this young woman. She spent her time with a company of friends--two girls, one who planted flowers in Tifa's backyard, and another who spoke loudly and moved from one place to another by bouncing; and two dark-haired men, one who always smiled, and another who never did.
All of those friends came to her bar and when they did, they all seemed happy. Even the dark-haired man who never smiled seemed content inside Tifa's bar. I nearly roared at the unfairness of it, and this frustration mingled with the aching I felt in my chest every time I entered her dream.
Hate.
I felt it when Tifa showed me her bar and how she always had a special smile for each customer that went in and out of those doors, and how they always had a smile back for her. I felt it when one of the customer --a new one, she explained--had tried to touch the curve of her body beneath the clothes she wore.
It was the first time I felt hate in her dreams for someone other than Tifa herself. It wasn't the all-consuming hate I had for her. No, it was different. No matter how much I hated Tifa, I never raised a hand to hurt her. But the man--Tifa's customer--didn't own me. I wanted to throttle him, to run him through with my sword. I wanted to go to his dream and steal his soul merely because he had touched Tifa. I probably would have if I hadn't seen her dream self react almost immediately and twist the man's wrist. The man's face contorted in pain and he left the bar nearly in tears. I smiled cruelly at his fate.
The more I saw of her life, the deeper the ache in my chest became and the more I grew to hate her. For all the reasons I gave, I hated her. It didn't make sense, but Tifa owned me. And whether she knew it or not, she tugged at my soul a little each day, easing it out of Mother's grasp so slowly and carefully that even I did not realize it.
Like a planet gravitating towards the sun, I found myself drawn to her without reason or logic. It was hopeless and impossible, but I found myself wanting to possess her as she possessed me. Everytime I saw her, I wanted... so many things.
I wanted her to look at me just as she looked at that child with that soft, happy smile on her face. I wanted her to calm the storm of hate and evil and aching that was my constant companion. I wanted to feel her lips, not pressed to my forehead but against mine, so I could taste her. I wanted to touch her graceful, elegant body as if I had the right to. I wanted to feel her under me and hear her soft voice moaning my name. I wanted it so much my entire body trembled with it everytime she was near, and I had to control myself before I reached out and started acting on these wants.
So many things I wanted. None I could have.
…
…
…
…
Book II: Of Love and Hate…
*****
She was dreaming again tonight and I approached her dream cautiously. Those who protect dreams had been alerted by my presence and they had sent a Guardian.
Tifa's dream was now being guarded by a dark-haired man. He was tall and he had the build of a warrior. There are very few warriors in the dream plane. Of all of Mother's enslaved souls, only a select handful had the capacity to become a warrior, myself included.
But this man, the Guardian they had sent to protect Tifa's dream, was without a doubt eons older than I and infinitely more skilled. The Guardian had a sword strapped to his back, much like mine only the blade of his was simpler. He stood guard outside the dream, far enough that Tifa couldn't feel him, but close enough to defend her.
It did not stop me. Nothing would have stopped me at this point. Not even one of the Guardians. The hate was too intense. I had to see her again. I had to find something, anything, in her dreams that would somehow loosen the grip she had on me.
I stepped forward with my sword drawn and almost immediately, the Guardian's blade was cutting across mine. The dark-haired man pressed forward. He was strong and his bulk was considerably larger than mine, but I gritted my teeth and threw all of my weight back at him.
The Guardian did not move. He was just as intent on protecting Tifa's dream as I was on entering it. For a moment, our swords stayed locked together, each trying to get under the other's guard.
"So you are the enslaved soul who has been trying to enter this woman's dream," the Guardian gave me a cold, hard smile. "Tell me, what interest does a creature from the abode of nightmares have in a dreamer like her?"
I didn't answer. The grating slide of metal on metal was harsh on my ears, but I held my ground.
"Let me guess, Mother sent you." The Guardian growled the name, his dark eyes cold and full of anger. Anger, not hate. This man was not immersed in hate as I was, but it seemed as if he had once been. "You poor souls do her bidding still? You--"
I cut across him. "Mother did not send me."
For a moment, the Guardian looked surprised. He stared at me intently. "You came here for yourself?"
"I came for her."
The Guardian pulled back and so did I. "Why?"
I said nothing. How could I explain that Mother was no longer the master of my soul, but this woman whose dream he was now protecting? Even to me, it sounded impossible. I moved backward, trying to assess the situation as calmly as possible.
Tifa's dream shimmered just out of reach. Though the Guardian's stance had shifted at my words, he was still standing in front of it, his large form silhouetted by the light from the luminous surface. He was still trying to protect her from me and from any other creature who walked the dream plane. But even with his mind on both me and any other potential attacker, I knew he would not be distracted.
I was beginning to get a suspicion on who this particular Guardian was, but I had to test my theory first.
I lunged forward, my sword slicing a path through the air. With an easy, almost effortless move, he blocked my sword and lunged at me with an attack of his own. Our swords clashed again, and I swung my blade at the Guardian, this time with a different move in mind.
Each warrior has an attack that is uniquely his own, and though my soul is enslaved by Mother, I am permitted to use this attack against Guardians. Using my attack, the strongest I had, would prompt the Guardian to use his.
I lifted my sword above my head and swung it easily, smiling as I heard the flames crackling to life at the edges of the blade. Once the whole blade was engulfed by the licking flames, I brought it to my side and wrapped both hands around the hilt. My eyes widened when I saw my fire.
It was blue.
That was surprising, to say the least. In the eons I had spent wandering the abode of nightmares, the fire from my attack had always been green. The same color as Mother's fire, because my soul was hers. But now it was blue.
Before I could fully comprehend what had caused this change, the Guardian had already moved backwards to avoid my blade. As he did, a single, white wing erupted to life on his back. My eyes narrowed as I looked at the bright, arching shape stretching across Tifa's dream, shielding it from me. My suspicions had been proven correct.
Angeal. One of the three greatest Guardians in the dream plane.
He and his fellow Guardians, Sephiroth and Genesis, were the best among those who protect dreams. They were said to have been warrior souls enslaved by Mother, but somehow, they managed to free themselves from Mother's grasp. Since then, they had walked the dream plane, protecting dreams from the creatures they themselves had once been.
I should have known. I had already discovered that Tifa was different from the other dreamers, though I still did not know why. But since she was so unusual, it would only make sense that those who protect dreams would want her guarded by one of the best Guardians in existence.
I gripped the hilt of my burning blade tightly. Not even a Guardian like Angeal could stop me from entering Tifa's dream. I moved forward, prepared to strike.
But Angeal made no move to hinder me. Instead, his dark eyes were focused on the blue flames engulfing my blade. He stared at them for a moment, then at me. Finally, after a long pause, he stood back, allowing me complete access to Tifa's dream.
I was so surprised that I faltered for a minute before looking back at Angeal, silently asking why. He had a smile on his face, a sad but genuine smile.
"I was once an enslaved soul like you. So were my brothers," Angeal lowered his blade and his lone wing folded around his large frame. Almost absent-mindedly, he ran his hands through the white feathers. "Our wings used to be black, but now they are white. A testament to our freedom from Mother's grasp. It was only good fortune that saved me and my brothers, and we became Guardians because of it… But you, you have been saved by something else. It is up to you to discover what it is."
Angeal moved away from Tifa's dream. "Go. I can see that am no longer needed here."
Still surprised and half-wondering if he was trying to trick me, I touched the luminous surface of Tifa's dream. Immediately, Angeal and the rest of the dream plane faded and I found myself surrounded by a brilliant light.
The light nearly blinded me and I raised the arm still carrying my sword to block it out. "Tifa?"
A small, muffled laugh trilled behind me and I turned, allowing my eyes to adjust to the light. My other senses recovered more quickly. I could smell the alluring scent that often clung to Tifa's skin, even in her dreams, and I registered that a slightly salty smell mixed with it. My feet were bare and I could feel something grainy between my toes. The stunning brightness of the white began to fade and I looked around and saw that I was at a beach.
The sun was shining brightly, its light bouncing off the surface of the clear waters. The sand beneath my feet was warm and golden. A gentle breeze ruffled my hair and dark clothes, which I realized, were somewhat out of place. I lowered my sword, feeling a little wary of my surroundings.
Shaking my head slightly, I tried to adjust myself. The light seemed to be much brighter, especially after the darkness of the dream plane. I felt a tentative hand touch mine lightly and Tifa's face filled my vision.
"Hi," she murmured in her soft voice. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come."
She had been waiting for me? I couldn't fathom why. The rich red of her eyes was intoxicating, pulling me in, and her smile was the same soft, happy smile I saw her give her little sister. Only now, it was directed at me. I managed to shake my head curtly. "I... got held up."
By her Guardian, but I wasn't about to tell her that. I still didn't trust her. It wasn't in my nature to trust anyone, especially not someone who had me so securely within her grasp. I had already made the mistake of trusting Mother once, and look what it had done to my soul. I wasn't about to trust this woman, no matter how much she may invade my every thought.
Tifa nodded, accepting my explanation without a word. Her hand around mine tightened a bit and she gave a small tug. "Come on."
She moved away and I finally saw what she had been wearing. My mouth dropped open and I couldn't stop the choked sound that forced its way from my throat. She turned to me with a worried expression. "What is it?"
"What--" I cleared my throat. "What are you wearing?"
It was a ridiculous question. I could see what she was wearing. It was just... unexpected.
She was wearing a dress of a pale blue color and it looked... pleasing against pale skin that now had a light caramel tint to it. But that wasn't the worst of it. The dress was long, reaching down to the backs of her knees, but the material it was made of was so thin and flimsy, I could see through it to the clothes--if they could be called that--she wore underneath. There was only a top that did little to conceal the fullness of her breasts, and a small piece of cloth that was tied at her hips, emphasizing the gently rounded curves. The two scanty pieces of clothing left her stomach and legs nearly bare with only the thin blue fabric of her dress in the way, concealing yet revealing at the same time.
As I stared at her, I felt blood surge to my lower extremities and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to distract myself from my body's reactions. The fierce want I felt every time I was in her presence was turning into a burning need that flashed through my veins like wildfire. I had to control myself or I might do something stupid. I had already done the foolish and entered her dream the first time. I could not allow her grip on me to strengthen anymore than it already was.
But whatever I tried to tell myself, no matter how much the voice of reason in my head screamed against it, I found myself looking at the long, lithe lines of her body. Tifa followed my gaze and a blush crept into her cheeks, coloring them with a light dusting of pink.
"Oh, this... We took the kids to Costa del Sol yesterday. Aerith and Yuffie bought it for me as a joke, I think, but I didn't have anything else to wear, so I wore it anyway. Besides, this has nothing on what Yuffie wore. Barret was running after her the entire time we were there trying to get her to wear a towel."
"I see."
Truth be told, I didn't really see. Oh, I understood that she had worn this earlier and that her subconscious had projected it into her dream and that was why I was seeing it on her now, but... Had she really worn this in the waking world? Had their male friends been with them and had they seen her?
It filled me with the same hate I had felt for the customer who had touched her at the bar in that one dream. Had anyone tried to touch her while she was wearing this? Had she prevented them from doing so just as she had done to the man at the bar, or had she let them? Surely she hadn't. Not Tifa.
Then an insane thought crept into my mind... Would she let me touch her?
Of course not. Why would she? I was nothing but a creature of darkness, an intruder in her dreams.
Tifa bit her lip and turned away, her cheeks still stained with pink. She tugged on my hand again and I felt the skin there tingle. Mutely, I followed her to a spot on the sand where she had laid out a blanket. It was quite close to the water, but the waves didn't reach it.
She sat down and pulled me after her until we were both sitting on the blanket. Her legs were crossed and stretched out before her and her eyes were closed as she soaked up the warmth of the sun. It was getting quite warm so I took off my shoulder guard, sleeve and duster and sat beside her awkwardly, trying not to look at the long line of pale skin beside me.
"You know, you've been coming to my dreams for some time now," she remarked. I froze for a moment, sure she was going to tell me to stop coming to her dreams. "...but you still haven't told me your name."
At her words, I felt myself relax slightly. "I told you, my name is Strife."
Tifa shook her head. "You told me that was the name they gave you in the dream plane. I want to know your real name."
Her mouth was set in a stubborn line and I knew she wasn't going to let it go. She gave my knee a light nudge with hers and even through the fabric of my clothes, I could feel the warmth of her skin. "Come on. Out with it. It can't be that bad."
She looked at me with wide, pleading crimson eyes. She could certainly be very persuasive when she wanted to be. I sighed and gave in, hating myself for being so weak.
"Cloud."
Tifa smiled, pleased at having gotten her way. "Cloud, huh?... Cloud..." She tried my name out, as though trying to get used to it. The single word sounded... pleasant coming from her. "I like it. It suits you, kind of... I like it much better than Strife."
I grunted and said nothing. Neither name had really appealed much to me... So why did both sound so much better coming from her?
"And that was the name you had before you went to the dream plane?"
"That was the name I was born with, yes."
She was silent for moment, absorbing my words. We both looked out into the ocean, staring at the light bouncing from the waves and listening to the cry of the gulls overhead. Then she spoke, "Cloud...Tell me about the dream plane."
I stiffened. "What do you want to know?"
Tifa shrugged. "I don't know... What's it like? How did you end up there if you weren't born there? Are there others like you who go to people's dreams? Why do you do it?"
Despite her nonchalant tone, I knew she had been dying to ask this earlier, but had refrained from doing so while I examined every aspect of her life, trying to find out what was so different about her. But now I had stopped doing so, though I still had no answers. Now it was her turn to ask questions.
I could refuse to answer her questions. I could, and I should. For the first time, I felt... ashamed of what my existence had been like. If she found out about what I did and why I did it in the first place, would she be disgusted? Would she despise me? Would she banish me from her dreams? The thought made my stomach clench.
But I knew she had to be given the choice of whether to run or stay. Just as I should have been given a choice when Mother had made me the offer to join her. I had been allowed to make a decision then, but I hadn't known everything. No matter how much hate I felt for her, Tifa should know everything so she wouldn't be pulled into something she didn't understand.
She must have sensed my anxiety and laid a hand on my arm. I looked at her and she smiled, her eyes soft. "It's okay... You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
I took a deep breath. "Tifa... You have to know. I-I need you to know."
"Okay." She folded her legs under her and turned toward me. "I'm listening."
I sighed and lifted my hand to the back of my neck, ruffling my hair absently as I wondered how to start.
"You should know that dreams are manifestations of a person's subconscious mind. They're full of the thoughts and desires that don't show themselves when people are awake and conscious. They're as much a part of a person's soul as their waking self is. There are those who try to go into people's dreams and steal this part of their souls to control them.
"That was what happened to me when I was human. I was sick, it was an illness that had no cure. My life had thus far been unremarkable and I didn't want it to end yet. I didn't want to admit it, but I was afraid of dying... Well, not so much dying as dying with nothing to show for my life. I could have been a hero or a father or someone famous, but that was being taken away from me... So when one of those beings who steal souls came to me and offered me immortality, I grabbed at the chance.
"Keep in mind that I said 'steal'... She stole my soul from me even if she did give me the choice. She left out the part that my soul would belong to her and that she would fill me with hate until it was the only thing I knew. For a long time, so long that I cannot even count it in years, I have served her. I stole souls for her just as she did to me. It made me sick every time, knowing that these people were going to suffer the same fate I did. But I had no choice, she owned my soul."
I stopped and turned to look at Tifa. She was very quiet and her face wasn't turned toward me anymore. She was looking out at the ocean, listening to my words. The water wasn't as peaceful as it had been earlier and the sun wasn't as bright. She said nothing and I had no idea what she was thinking. But I went on.
"When I came to your dream, it was with the same objective. She ordered me to steal your soul. But I... I couldn't. I don't know why, but I couldn't take your soul. She punished me and sent me back. I tried all I could to get you to join us, but you wouldn't take anything I offered. I... I hated you then because I didn't understand how you could resist the very things I had not been able to resist. That's why I came to your dreams, but I--"
Again, I stopped talking. Her face was still turned away from me, but I caught sight of something glistening on her cheek. A tear? She was crying?
A rush of unknown emotion swept through me and had me wanting to kill myself for making Tifa cry. I didn't understand it, but there had been a lot of things I didn't understand recently since I met Tifa. I reached out to wipe the tears from her face. But before my fingers could touch her cheek, she wrenched away from me violently.
"Is that why?!" Her normally sweet voice was raw with something I couldn't identify. Tears were now falling freely down her ivory cheeks and she brushed them impatiently away. "Is that why you've been coming to my dreams? So you could steal my soul? That was the only thing you wanted from me... but I thought... I thought you..."
Her breath caught and she never finished her sentence. Instead, she turned and ran away from me, toward the water. I rose from the blanket and followed her, leaving my sword behind.
"Tifa!"
She didn't answer or even turn around. Her hands pulled the blue dress that had so tormented me over her head, leaving her in nothing but those scant clothes. If it had been any other situation, I would have relished the fact that I was being allowed to view her beautiful body with little impediment, but now I just felt a desperation that made my head and heart pound. I had to go to her, to make her understand.
The sky was dark now, with almost no hint of the blinding brightness that had welcomed me. The water which had earlier been so calm and still was now churning and turbulent. The waves rose and fell in a wild, uncontrolled motion… and Tifa was heading straight toward them!
I ran faster, jerking my shirt over my head, still calling her name. Over the noise of the waves, I could hear her sobbing and the sound tore at my heart.
Her body broke the surface with almost no noise. Cursing myself, I dove in after her, my limbs moving in one sure stroke after another, letting my body propel me towards Tifa.
I could see her up ahead. She had stopped swimming and now she just floated there, weeping brokenly as the waves rose. A gigantic wave loomed over her, threatening to come crashing upon her.
"TIFA!" I swam faster, pouring every ounce of my strength into my strokes. Even my earlier fight with Angeal did not test my effort as this did. Every stroke was intended to bring me toward Tifa, but it was as if I were being pushed away with every motion. All the while, the enormous wave rose higher and higher.
When it felt as if I would never reach her, my hand brushed against skin, soft even under the rage of the waves, and it closed around Tifa's waist. Feeling my arm around her waist, she struggled and the water became even more turbulent, if that were possible.
"Tifa, stop!" But she fought harder still, her face drenched with a mixture of tears and seawater. I kept my arm around her waist and gripped her wrist with the other. She shook her head and strands of her long dark hair clung to my chest and shoulder.
"Don't touch me, Cloud!" Her voice was fierce and desperate as she fought against me. "Go back to where you came from and leave me alone!"
Her words clawed at my chest until I felt raw and open. But the pain was still easier to feel than the hate I had been drowning in for so long. The wave was now looming over both of us, blocking out the sun, the sky, everything else but the woman in my arms. I let go of her waist and wrist and moved my hands to her face, capturing it between my fingers and letting my eyes feast on her delicate features.
"Tifa, listen to me," I kept my voice low and I knew she could hear me even over the waves. Her breathing was uneven from her sobbing and when she looked at me, it was with eyes that were so full of pain and hurt that it made me want to cry too. "That was before. You have to believe me, I'm not trying to take your soul now, nor will I ever attempt to. That's not why I'm here."
"Then why?" she cried, her eyes wild with pain and anger. "Why, Cloud? Why are you here?"
I didn't know what answer would mollify her or calm her down. I didn't know what answer would appease her anger. All I knew was the truth, so I bent down, placing my lips near her ear, and whispered the words I had not allowed myself to even think in all the time I had known her.
My answer stopped her and the anger fled from her eyes... And everything stopped. The wave receded as quickly as it had built, rocking us both as the sea slowly levelled. Above us, the dismal grey of the sky slowly lightened to its former blue. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds as though checking if all was clear before warming us both.
The pain had disappeared from Tifa's eyes to be replaced by something I couldn't identify. Slowly, I smoothed my thumb across her damp cheek, relishing the feel of her smooth skin beneath the pad of my finger. Without a word, I covered her lips with mine.
It was like finding an oasis in the middle of the desert, like being in the eye of a storm. Everything slowed to a standstill; her dream, the world, perhaps even time itself. All I knew was that Tifa tasted of all the things I had never known before. And when her lips parted beneath mine, I pressed deeper, determined to explore everything about this woman who now owned me.
And suddenly, everything in the world was right. It didn't make sense, but everything felt... right. Nothing existed outside of Tifa's dream and there was nothing wrong in the world. Nothing at all.
...
Now do you understand why I hate her? No?
Well then, let me enlighten you. I hate her, that strange, frustrating, inexplicably complex yet amazingly simple soul known as Tifa Lockhart... I hate her because she owns me. I hate her because she has somehow managed to filter through every thought I have had since I met her. I hate her because she deprived me of my freedom.
I hate her because I love her.
Does that make sense to you? No, it doesn't make sense to me, either. All I know is that somehow, somewhere along the way, she managed to widen my world a little, allowing me to step out of the nightmares and see the good dreams... and in doing so, she made room for more than hate.
It was as if she had pushed the hate away and filled the crevice it had left behind with the love and acceptance she gave unconditionally. The love I never even knew was there until it had filled me up, and by that time, it was just as strong as the hate, strong enough to overpower it. The emotion was so foreign to me after existing for so long without it that I did not know it for what it was and because of my ignorance, I took it for hate.
The fact of the matter is, I love Tifa Lockhart. Everything else be damned.
...
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Book III: Of the Present...
*****
She is sleeping again, in that phase of sleep where the dream has not yet solidified and the dreamer is caught somewhere between the waking world and the dream plane. This phase is the most dangerous, for it is at this time that the creatures of the nightmares make their move, each trying to lay claim to the dream.
I wait patiently. No demon or monster or fellow enslaved soul will touch her dream on my watch. Those who protect dreams have long since been used to my presence and Angeal no longer feels the need to guard Tifa as he did that one time we met. He and his brothers know that I come from the abode of nightmares... but they also know that though I am an enslaved soul, I have a different master now.
Her dream finally becomes clearer and I reach out. The moment I touch its irridescent surface, the dream plane fades, and I find myself standing in a room.
Tifa's room.
This room has borne witness to soft whispers and heated touches and smooth skin in the moonlight. This room is the only safe haven I know. The only reprieve from the evil and the hate. It is here that I possess her just as much as she possesses me.
Tifa is waiting for me on the bed, her body outlined in the soft silver-blue light filtering through the window. Her crimson eyes are wide and glassy in the moonlight. She is wearing nothing and that is how it should be, for she has always been like this. Tifa holds none of the fancy trappings or pretentious airs that most humans like to adorn themselves with.
This is how she comes to me; as herself, nothing more and nothing less. And there is nothing I can do but reciprocate. I approach her on the bed wearing nothing and feeling, for the first time in my life, free from any bondage. She smiles her welcome and waits, demanding nothing. She knows that I need this momentary freedom from enslavement as much as I need her.
Her house is quiet and there is no pitter-patter of children's feet --though I confess I have come to enjoy hearing it as much as I enjoy seeing her smile at the sound. We are alone in this dream and I revel in the fact that at this moment, she belongs to me.
My fingers slide through dark tresses, cupping around the curve of her head, bringing her lips to mine. She tastes of sweet wine and life and love and heaven and liquid heat. I press deeper, tasting more of her. And she gives, as only my Tifa can give.
"Cloud..."
My name is a breathless whisper against my cheek, and the sound is pure music to my ears. It has been so long since someone has spoken the name I was born with, let alone whispered it in a voice so full of emotion, but Tifa enjoys saying it. Because it is mine.
Her head falls back into the pillows, allowing me access to pulse at her throat. I lay my lips against the gentle throbbing there and my tongue lashes out to taste the sweet smoothness of her skin. She gasps, a sound of pure delight breathed into the air above her, and the throbbing beneath my tongue escalates. She makes a whimper, asking for more, but I take my time. She is far too beautiful, far too precious to be rushed.
I lay my hand across her skin, dipping a finger into the hollow at her throat, and watch as her breathing becomes unsteady. Slowly, I trace an invisible path from the base of her neck down to the cleft between her breasts, mesmerized at the way her body arches and curves, following the glide of my hand. Her chest rises and for a moment, she stops breathing as my hand strays lower, one finger trailing down the valley of her stomach.
She shudders beneath my hand and I marvel at the way her long lashes flutter across her cheek. Her hand wraps around mine and she brings it to her breasts. The dusky peaks are tight from arousal and I brush my thumb lightly across it, making her whimper again, this time, in frustration. She gives me a small, half-hearted glare but it is softened by the wry smile on her lips. With a light laugh, I give her what she wants.
Her skin is like silk beneath my tongue and she tastes heavenly. Slowly and with infinite patience, I swirl my tongue around her breast, from its graceful slope to its generous swell. I feel her ragged breathing, the way her chest rises and falls in time to the stroking of my tongue. She gasps my name over and over as she twines her hands in my hair, pulling lightly. I respond to her urgency by pressing my tongue against one rosy peak as my hand caresses the other.
"Cloud! Please..."
Her voice is nearly desperate, begging, and I feel her body's welcome against my thigh. I am enslaved by this woman, and when she asks, I have no choice but to give. Her grip on me, both physically and emotionally, is tight and will not yield. I cannot break free of it, nor do I want to.
I bend down and my tongue retraces the path my fingers started and she makes a sound that is both a moan and a sigh as I lower my head over the mound between her thighs. I mimic the sound against her heated skin and my breath glides over her, both cooling and inflaming. Beneath me, she writhes and her hands twist through the blankets, clenching and unclenching in an erratic pace, while her hips arch against me.
Relishing her reponse, I lower my head and allow myself to taste her essence. She tastes of innocent vulnerability and resilient strength, of warmth and light and everything that opposes the evil and hate of the world I have belonged to for so long before she came and helped me escape. I cannot get enough of her taste. I cannot get enough of her. Each time I take a taste, I want more.
"Cloud!"
I feel her legs tighten around me and the soles of her feet glide restlessly at my back. She is almost there, reaching for her release. She keens in desire and anticipation, and finally, I feel her clench and hear her breathless cry echoing through the room. I watch as her lips part on unsteady breaths and her eyes fly open to catch my gaze as she slowly recovers.
I return her wide-eyed gaze and smile. Shifting positions, I loom above her and capture her lips in a searing kiss. But my Tifa is a fighter, and she gives as good as she gets. I know that by now.
With a move that is firm and strong yet delicate and sensual at the same time, she lays a hand on my shoulder and pushes me down onto the bed. Our bodies shift and she is lying across me, breasts pressed against my chest, thighs spread over my lower abdomen, and mouth pressed firmly against mine.
When the need for breath forces us apart, I see that her crimson eyes are glowing and she holds my gaze steadily. I place my hands over her hips and she glides down, easing my length into her warm sheath. The sensation has us both gasping and, for a second, neither of us moves.
I take in everything about her; her glorious body silhouetted in the moonlight, the soft smile on her face, the undisguised hunger in her eyes. She does the same and as if on some silent cue, we both begin to move. Her hips roll gracefully above mine, taking in more and more of me. I press her down closer to me and surge deeper. Her long, dark hair cascades over us like a downpour of silk rain, moving fluidly at our every motion.
"Tifa..." Her name tastes good on my lips and I find myself repeating it over and over again. She raises unbearably soft eyes to my face and even through the need and the want, I can see the tenderness and love in them. "Tifa..."
She leans down and brushes her lips softly against mine. The slight barely-there sensation is enough to make me want more and I take her full lower lip between my teeth, loving its taste. Tifa moans in response and the sound is heat and desire brought to life as our bodies move together in a ceaseless, almost desperate rhythm.
When she finds her release, it is sudden and wrenches a startled, breathless cry from her. The intense and impassioned sound coming from her drags me, groaning and helpless, over the edge as well and I clutch her tightly to me, determined never to let go.
After several long moments that could have lasted for hours, her body is still draped over me, shaking and trembling, just as helpless as I am. I smile a little and we both wait for the tremors to fade. I shift until we are both lying on our sides. Tifa makes a soft sound and turns her face to my throat. I stroke her hair and allow the waves of contentment to wash over us both and lull us into peaceful silence.
"Cloud? Will you come to my dream again?"
Her voice is soft and gentle, pleading... For some reason I cannot begin to fathom, she needs me. As much as I need her. And though I do not fully understand why she does, I will come to her for as long as needs me to. She has no need to ask. I cannot stay away from her dreams. My soul depends on the freedom and love she offers so willingly. I cannot exist without it, without her. And so I nod and she smiles into my skin.
I don't know how long we stayed there, entwined in each other's arms, merely content with the feel of each other. But too soon --far too soon-- her dream begins to blur. She is waking. At first, Tifa clings to me, unwilling to leave, but after a while, the pull of the waking world becomes too much for her to resist. It is where she belongs, after all... and no matter how hard we try to keep the morning away, it will come.
But she will dream again. And I will come to her as long as I am able. For how long this little world we have created for ourselves will last, I do not know. But I do know that I will hold on to it for as long as I can.
I step out of her dream, holding her smile and the feel of her in my memory.
But I have already stepped out of my safe haven. I am no longer in the protection of Tifa's dreams. And outside of our little world, there are dangers that wish to harm.
The force of the blow nearly knocks me off balance. But eons of training and practice have worked well for me and I regain my footing almost automatically. Before my mind has even caught up with my body, sheer reflex has me swinging my fist at my attacker and I smile in satisfaction when I feel it connect with flesh and bone.
I cannot pretend that I have not expected this. In the abode of nightmares, Mother is a force to be reckoned with.
I straighten up and cast a disdainful glance at the army of enslaved souls that Mother has assembled before me. Mother herself stands behind them, towering over them all; a being that cannot be described as beast or human, merely evil.
My vision fills with sickening green as I look upon her form. She moves her bulk toward me and I can feel her cruel smile light upon me.
"And what is this?" her oily voice slides through my being, causing the hairs on my skin to prickle in disgust. "One of my children, my souls, has broken the stronghold? How it breaks my heart. One of my own has betrayed me -- dear children, do we allow Strife to live after this?"
Mother's army of slaves shake their heads and respond "NO!" in a bland monotone. I pity these creatures, these souls enslaved by their own weakness or by the weakness of those who had taken them. They are immersed in hate, just as I used to be.
"I own your soul, Strife," Mother declares triumphantly. "How worthy you once were of the name I gave you... I took you from your deathbed and gave you what you wanted: immortality! And how do you repay me? You disobey my commands and take the dreams of an insignificant girl for your own. You have mocked me, Strife, and for this... you will die!"
The army of souls ripples in agreement and they take a menacing step forward.
Unshaken, I stand my ground. I am unarmed and vulnerable, but I stand my ground.
Mother's smile is mocking and cruel as her army slowly advances on me. But before they get the chance to do anything, the sound of beating wings fills the air. Every single head turns upward and I see the outline of three beings, all with lone wings stretched out on their backs, descending from the skies of the dream plane.
As their forms grow nearer, I see Angeal, his sword in one hand and mine in the other. On either side of him are the two other Guardians. One has flowing silver hair, catlike green eyes, and a sword so long the glide of its metal seems endless. This is, without a doubt, Sephiroth. On Angeal's other side is a Guardian with short red hair and a red cloak. His sword is made of a strange scarlet metal that glows menacingly in the darkness. This is Genesis, then.
Angeal smiles and tosses my sword in my direction. The blade whistles through the air and I wrap my hand around the hilt, nodding my thanks to Angeal. He takes his place beside me and his brothers follow wordlessly, silent warriors who have fought this battle before and now stand with me as I face the same fight.
"You cannot face me alone, Strife? You need Guardians with you?" Their appearance has shaken and enraged Mother, for now the four souls who have managed to escape her clutches all stand before her. But she does not show it, instead the green fire of her rage intensifies and so does her thirst to destroy. "Foolish, ungrateful souls! I gave you all what you wanted but you were too weak to take it! You will ALL die!"
"What you have said is true," I smile coldly at her. The smile unnerves her further, for she is not used to being challenged or mocked. "I traded my soul for immortality, and if I had known then that this would be my fate, I would have taken death gladly. I have disobeyed your commands and I have taken the dreams of a woman who is infinitely stronger than you are... Jenova."
She recoils in horror and her hulking mass quivers in silent indignation. "You dare --"
I laugh. "Yes, I do. Jenova... I know what you are. The embodiment of human evils, of the lust and greed and hate of the sinful who dream. I was one of them, and I am ashamed of it, of being weak enough to join you and take others with me. But no longer... You no longer own my soul."
"What madness is this?!" Jenova screams, her voice filled with the hatred and the evil I have known for so long; but this time, there is a difference. This time, there is fear. "Your soul belongs to me as compensation for the immortality I gave you! You WILL serve me as payment for what I did!"
Beside me, the three Guardians are silent, but I feel the waves of anger emanating from their still forms. My own anger intensifies at Jenova's words.
"'What you did'?" I shake my head. "What you did was to take advantage of my weakness as a human... but I do not expect anything else from something like you. You steal souls, you take lives and fill us all with hate... but my soul is my own again. It is no longer yours, because you did not foresee the threat that 'insignificant girl' posed. She took my soul from you and freed me while doing so."
"Lies! All lies!"
Jenova lunges forward then, her entire form blazing with her fire. The army she has assembled tries to flee, but they burn with her. I can hear the inhuman screams of these souls as Jenova's fire licks at their bodies. But she does not heed them. Instead, her focus is on me and the three Guardians. She plunges through the dream plane, burning everything in her wake to get to us.
If I had been a weaker soul, if I did not own my own life now, I probably would have quailed as I watched Jenova's fiery onslaught. But Tifa had taught me many things and she had saved me. She owned me now. I belonged to her and not to this creature.
As if on some invisible cue, Angeal, Sephiroth, Genesis, and I raise our swords, four motions so fluid they seemed one. As Jenova approaches, we all move in, the wings unfurling from the three Guardians' backs and the blade of my sword bursting into blue flames. As one, we slash and attack the creature that once owned us all.
Jenova screams her hate and rage and it is a terrible sound that seems to chase away all the good things in the world. But I hold on to the image of Tifa in my mind as I attack again and again. Beside me, the three Guardians attack as well with precision and steadfast determination.
My limbs hurt with the effort but my mind is exhilaratingly clear. What is left of Jenova's army attempts to attack us but we focus on her alone, for she is at the root of all this. Again and again we attack until my body feels as if it is about to collapse from the sheer effort it takes to stand. Time itself seems to move in a sluggish pace as we all move forward each time she shows signs of weakness.
Finally, it is almost over. Jenova's hulking mass lurches and falls, but not before sending out its last attempt to destroy us. Her accursed fire blazes as tall as the sky, as unstoppable as water and as unmoving as the earth.
Instinctively, I know that this is the last of it. We can make no move to defend ourselves from this fire for our bodies are spent. Even the greatest of warriors fall. Even the greatest of Guardians have weaknesses. Even the greatest of heroes must die.
I turn to Angeal and his brothers. "This is mine to finish."
They nod, understanding, and step backward. They have already suffered through this. It is no longer their battle to fight, but mine. Wings beat once again as the three Guardians take flight, leaving only softly floating white feathers in their wake.
Now the only thing left is me and the last of the creature that once enslaved me. I stand my ground as I feel Jenova's fire once again consuming my body.
This time, for good.
My last thought is of Tifa, and how much I mourned having so little time with her, and how she would wait for me in her dream tonight, but I would not be able to come.
I'm sorry, Tifa. I failed you...
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Book IV: Of the Future...
*****
Tifa Lockhart lay in her bed, thinking.
Her sheets were tangled around her limbs and the clock beside her bed ticked in an even, regular cadence. From outside her room, she could hear her siblings' feet scurrying lightly across the wooden floor as they headed down to the kitchen to get breakfast. She knew she should go downstairs and make Denzel and Marlene something to eat, but something kept her glued to the bed. Her red-brown eyes stared at the ceiling, unseeing.
Cloud didn't come.
He had promised he would. Not in so many words, but he had promised. And she had waited for him, but he didn't come.
Why?
She knew Cloud wouldn't abandon her like that on purpose. Not after what he had told her when they were in the water during that dream. The dream that had changed everything when he had admitted that he loved her.
Every time they met in her dreams, he never seemed to want to let go of her, just as much as she didn't want to let go of him. He needed her. She didn't really understand why, but he did. His actions said as much. So why would he suddenly stop coming to see her? It didn't make sense.
The only reason he would stop coming to her dreams was if something had happened to him.
The thought made her hands fist on the sheets. What if something had happened to Cloud? She remembered what he had told her about the dream plane, about the creatures that stole people's souls to control them. One of those beings had done it before to Cloud... What if that being tried to hurt him?
She couldn't understand why someone would want to hurt Cloud. True, he had frightened her a little at first with what he had told her about stealing souls and how that had been his objective in her dreams at first. But not anymore. Not since he had told her he loved her. And now that she knew what he was really like, she just couldn't imagine why anyone would want to hurt him.
The doorbell rang and Tifa could hear multiple voices coming from outside. Barret's growling yell was loudest, Yuffie's high, piping chatter was second, followed by Zack's cheery laugh, while Aerith's soft murmur was barely audible over the others, and though she couldn't hear him, Tifa was pretty sure Vincent was with them too. Boots skipping on wooden floors told her that Marlene was getting the door.
Sighing, Tifa forced herself out of bed. Maybe she was worrying for nothing. That was always her way with the people she loved. And she loved Cloud.
When he had told her that his first purpose in coming to her dreams was to steal her soul, she had reacted not only to the things he had told her, but also to the thought that perhaps he didn't feel the things she felt when he came to her dreams. And so she ran away, hurt and confused by the foreign emotions that were rushing through her. She had run until he whispered those words that still made her heart pound and her insides dance happily.
"I love you..."
Even now, Tifa had to bite her lip to keep from grinning ear to ear like some lovesick fool. She laughed inwardly at her schoolgirl-ish reactions.
Vaguely, she wondered how long their situation could last. Much as she loved having him to herself, there was a part of her that wanted to share him with everyone else. To see what Barret and Denzel and Marlene and everyone else would think of him. She was pretty sure they'd accept him. No matter how much he might say that he was full of hate and evil, she knew he had a good soul. Why else would he care so much for her?
Tifa had always belonged to a family. Cloud didn't, and she wanted to share her family with him.
She just wished she really was worrying for nothing, because she didn't know what she'd do if something bad had happened to Cloud.
Tifa pulled on her usual leather vest, apron and shorts and went down the stairs, yawning into her hand. The others were still talking. Marlene was telling Barret about what had happened to her at school lately. Denzel was showing Zack the model airplane he had put together yesterday. Yuffie was probably rummaging through the kitchen drawers, looking for something she could steal. Aerith was in the garden, probably checking on the flowers and--
"TIFAAAAA!!!"
The flower girl's high-pitched scream rent the morning air and brought everyone crashing into the backyard. Tifa, immediately on alert, ran down the stairs, two steps at a time, already prepping herself for a fight.
"Tifa! Tifa! Come quick!" Marlene's alarmed voice called through the back door.
"What the hell, Teef?"
"Tifa, what's going on?"
"TIII-FAA! What's a naked man doing in yo' backyard, girl?!"
Barret's words in his Papa-voice--as Marlene liked to call it--stopped Tifa in her tracks. "What?"
She skidded downstairs to find all of them crowded on her back door. Barret's gun-arm was pointed at something she couldn't see. Vincent's Cerberus was also aimed at the same target. Zack was clutching his enormous Buster Sword with both hands. How he had even managed to draw it, she had no idea. It was half as wide as the doorway and nearly touched the ceiling when he held it up. Yuffie had her Conformer drawn as well, but she couldn't see past the men who were all taller than her and she had to jump up and down to see over their shoulders.
"Hey, outta the way, big lug! I can't see!"
"Be quiet, ninja brat! And stay back there, you don't know who that is!"
"Who what is?" Tifa stood behind them with her hands on her hips. They all turned toward her, a risky move, but when she talked in her best ass-kicking-bartender voice, everyone listened. Yuffie took advantage of Barret's distraction and took a peek into the backyard.
"Whoa, Teef! You've been hiding things from us, huh?!" Yuffie giggled. "And he's uber-hot! Congratulations!"
"Yuffie, what on earth are you talking about?" Tifa pushed her way through the men, giving them each a stern glare when they tried to block her way. Aerith was gaping soundlessly at something. Denzel and Marlene were peeking behind Barret's legs and she gave them a gentle push backwards to keep them out of the way just in case there was any danger. Behind her, she could feel Barret, Zack and Vincent tensing themselves, ready to attack if there was a need.
A naked man? In her backyard? One of the regulars who had drunk too much? No, of course not. Her regulars knew better than to break into her house, much less do so without a stitch on... Who, then?
She stepped out into the backyard and took a cautious look. Sprawled on the grass of Aerith's mini-garden was a man. A very familiar man. She knew every inch of him, even though she had never seen him before. Not in this world anyway. But the hint of sunshine gold was enough to tell her who he was.
"Cloud!"
He was here! He came! Cloud came! Tifa's heart slammed in her ribs in a mixture of relief and fear.
But something in the way he was lying on the ground made her stomach twist in fear. His body was too still, too lifeless. She rushed to his prone form and knelt beside him. "Cloud!" She pushed his golden spikes away from his face, willing him to open his eyes so she could see the blue of them once again. "Cloud, please... Please be alright..."
"Yo, Teef, you know this guy?"
"Barret! Shhh!" Aerith's voice reprimanded and she began herding the others away with a knowing smile on her face. Tifa seemed to know the man and she obviously didn't think he was a danger to the others. Besides, something in the way Tifa was looking at him reminded her of the way she looked at Zack, like a woman in love.
Vaguely, Tifa was aware of the others filing back inside the house. She didn't pay any attention to them. Instead, she took Cloud's hand and clasped it to her cheek. How many times had he touched her there, stroking her face with careful fingers as though trying to memorize her features?
He didn't react. His skin was so cold, as if there wasn't any life in him. What had happened to him? She felt tears slip down her cheeks and brushed them impatiently away.
"Cloud..." Tifa bent her head and pressed her lips to his temple, her breath ruffling his soft hair. When he still didn't respond, she let her lips roam over his face, just as she had so many times before. But this time, it felt different. More... real.
He had to be alive! He had to be! This was too real to be another dream and she was not going to lose him now that he was here!
Softly, experimentally, she kissed his slack mouth. Just a light brushing of her lips against his. Then another. And another. Until she gave in and finally pressed her lips more firmly against his mouth, willing him to remember, willing him to respond...
For how long she knelt there beside him, her mouth pressed to his, Tifa had no idea. Her body hurt from being in this position for so long, but her heart hurt worse, like it was shattering into a million tiny pieces. She gasped against his mouth, a pained, desperate sound.
Just as she was about to pull away, she felt strong hands cup around the back of her head, the touch firm and possessive, sealing her lips to his. Tifa's eyes flew open and met the impossible blue of his.
Then, in a move just as sudden as his response, he flipped them over so that he was above her, his arms around her to cushion her. And then he was kissing her, kissing her as if his very existence depended on it, as if she were the only thing he knew in this world... and it was true.
Tifa kissed him back with all the relief and joy and love she felt for him. Her arms wound themselves around his neck and she held on to him, never wanting to let go. She knew the others were still inside, possibly seeing her in this scandalous position; on the ground with a naked man above her. But she really couldn't care less. All she knew was that Cloud was here, and he came, just as he had promised he would.
He drew back just a little and their foreheads touched. His chest was heaving, but then so was hers, and his breath was hot as he whispered in her ear, "Sorry it took me so long."
Tifa smiled and shook her head, pulling him closer. "It's alright."
His fingers stroked her face, as though trying to reassure himself that she was really real and really there. "Tifa... your Guardians, they helped me... and you... I thought of you and..." She watched as he struggled to put his thoughts to words. "I-- Thank you. For saving me."
She didn't understand what he meant, but she knew he needed to say it more than to have her understand why. So she nodded and smiled at him. He was still staring at her, the blue fire of his eyes mesmerizing as they gazed down at her.
"Tifa... I'm yours now, whether you want me to be or not. I can understand if you don't want me, and if that is so then I'll stay out of your way... but whatever happens, I'm yours."
He turned his head away and the blue of his gaze left hers. His head was down, as though afraid of her reaction. For a moment, she lay there under him, thinking of the right words. In the end, there was really only one thing to say.
"Cloud?"
His eyes were still downcast. "Yes?"
Tifa cupped her hand around his cheek and lifted his face so she could meet his eyes. The blue in them shifted and glimmered in the early morning sun. She smiled.
"I'm yours, too."
THE END
Prompt: "Cloud has sold his soul for some reason and Tifa helps him get his heart back", and also "dark and broody Cloud" and "bright and perky Tifa", though I had to change 'perky' to 'happy'.
A/N: Okay, that was seriously one of the mot draining fics I have ever written. Never knew so much hate could be so exhausting... Anyway, I had so many protests about Cloud and Tifa not getting together in the last chapter that I decided to give them a happy ending here!
As usual, boundless gratitude to vLuna and ObsessiveCompulsiveValkyrie for proofreading! OCV gave me the prompt and vLuna gave me the suggestion to add another CloTi scene, hence the beach scene. Kudos to you guys!
Anyway, please review. Really, I value your thoughts and opinions, so please, feel free to drop a line or two telling me what you think about this little fic. And if you have any ideas on what the next chapter should be about ('cause I don't), then please, share!
Thanks for reading! Hope to see you in the next chapter!