Gently lifting the shredded remnants of her shirt, he peeled it back, revealing an angry, still-bleeding gash parallel to her belly button.

A faint blush touched her cheeks as the bare contours of her breasts were revealed, peeking from just beneath the rolled back material.

Oblivious, he turns his attentions to removing his glove and placing it upon the table top nearby.

Hand freed of its leather bindings, his fingertips ghost lightly down the side of her stomach, tracing the length of the wound.

Though not suggestive in nature, it made her skin bristle, his lingering touch leaving a searing heat in its wake, and despite the painful twinge in her side, she relished every moment, every second of this alien contact.

Goosebumps rose and layered the surface of her flushed skin.

Noticing, he watched them erupt, gaze traveling discreetly beyond her wound to her breasts, devouring the fullness of them just visible beneath the thin material draped across them.

Mentally, he shook himself, feeling ashamed as he determinedly returned his attention to the task of immersing the small rag in the saltwater-filled bowl beside him and wringing it tightly.

He was relieved that Hellmasker had remained silent throughout this process, though he sensed the demon was well aware of the current, inappropriate scenarios flashing through his mind.

Her eyes close for a moment, as the salt-dampened rag was drawn over the fresh wound, forcing back the tears that stung, soaking her eyelashes until they felt heavy, immovable.

Her mind seemed detached from what was happening as she stared up at him through half-lidded eyes, mouth slightly open, a thin perspiration beading her forehead.

Leaning over her, he worked with an intent care and precision, red eyes narrowed in concentration as he carefully pressed the rag to the broken skin.

Once or twice she flinches at the sting of intruding salt, but otherwise remains still.

Even in the silence, as she closes her eyes, she feels his own lingering on her now and then, eliciting those familiar feelings of anticipation and uncertainty.

"Just a flesh wound." He murmured, satisfied with his work at last and setting the rag carefully onto the edge of the bowl.

With his words, her eyes open, meeting his own without pause, the searing heat beneath her skin intensifying as they remained locked with his for a long, suspended moment.

She has no idea what is running through his mind, for his expression is closed, but his eyes were afire... and it took her very breath away.

Blinking purposefully, he tore his gaze away, proceeding to open a clean dressing before speaking quietly.

"Although you did manage to put up a bit of a fight, it appears I might have to keep a closer eye on you than first anticipated."

Placing the covering over the laceration, he gently secured it with a light brush of his fingertips.

Silence falls briefly as he turns away, beginning to clear away the numerous objects littering the surface of the small table beside him.

"I would like that."

Her voice was quiet, barely a whisper. Her eyes slide back up to focus on him, one hand still loosely clasped atop her ribs, the other loose at her side.

With her words, Vincent visibly stiffens, an action that sent a furious blush to her cheeks.

The silence grows heavier as he finally turns to her, expression now inquiring. She didn't know why, but she had long stopped breathing.

Tongue darting forth, she slowly wet her lips, and against his better integrity, he found himself studying the action.

Ignoring the ever persistent twinge in her side, she raises herself slowly onto her elbows and leans forward, becoming level with him.

The air grew thick with tension as she regards him with a longing stare, her ragged inhalations the only audible sounds amongst the quiet chorus of crickets outside.

The gunman studied each of her actions silently, gaze following her now extended fingers as the cool pads proceeded to gently trace over his cheek before lightly ghosting down to his lips where they remained and applied a slight pressure.

An intense wave of panic seemed to suddenly surge within him, his expression fearful as he noted the now steadily closing space between them.

"Y-Yuffie...?" He stammered softly, earnestly searching her face now inches from his own, the sensation of his hot breath whispering over her lips sending a thrill up her spine.

She closed her eyes, allowing the slightest smile to surface. How she relished the way he uttered her name. For so long she had dared hope he would someday...

With a soft creak of worn leather, he extended an uncertain, gloved hand. Unsure of himself and the actions he was about to commit, he instead let it skim gently to the side of her cheek, tucking a stray bang behind her ear. It took what little restraint she had left within her not to gasp aloud at his touch.

Heartbeat thrumming deafeningly within her eardrums, her eyes travel upwards, from his slightly parted lips to his eyes.

There was no mistaking it now. No, she could see the suppressed longing and anticipation within those fiery, vermillion depths.

Her own flutter closed as she moved forward blindly, to steal the rarest and most forbidden of things from him...

A moment passed in agonizing silence, then, there was the softest pressure of his lips against hers as he finally closed the little remaining space between them.

The resulting reaction was astounding, her breath exploding from her in a shuddering gasp, her insides reduced to a liquified pool as her fingers curled inward into her palms.

His kiss was gentle, unsure and timid, yet attentive and deliberate—and it tormented her almost to the brink of insanity.

She felt his mouth open against her lips as a shudder wracked his body, but any protests or worries that might have come forth died in the low, desperate sound he emitted when she pressed her mouth more urgently to his, her tongue slipping between his parted lips and grazing tentatively against his own.

Something close to a growl reverberated from deep within his chest, fire igniting the suppressed, roaring inferno within him as her slender arms rose, winding their way around his neck and pulling him hungrily against her.

The contact grew with fervor, untapped and raw, relentless and desperate as a forgotten sensuality he owned awakened within him. Never did she imagine it would be so wonderful. So utterly exquisite.

But as quickly as it was there, it was gone.

Slowly drawing away from one another, breathing ragged and hearts beating wildly, she opens her eyes.

They lift upwards from his now swollen lips to take in the entirety of his face, finding a wary, maybe even frightened expression.

Pinching his lips into a thin line, his smoldering eyes quickly break away from her own.

Yet another sin he would have to atone for.

Her hand remained where it was upon his cheek, seemingly frozen in place as she regarded him with an anxious stare.

The silence that follows is stifling, almost too painful to endure. She wants to be the first to break it, yet her tongue seems almost paralyzed.

"Yuffie, I-I'm so sorry, I..." he stuttered, breath hot against her lips, his voice curiously strained.

Warmth suddenly spread across her hand as he placed his on top, gently removing it. It should be deemed an innocent action in and of itself, yet he feels as though he taints her with the simplest touch.

Rising swiftly, he turned from her, making for the open door, sensing her eyes on him still, but he dared not look back and meet her gaze. This woman had just bore her heart to him. Offered it up for the taking. And he... he had rejected it. Rejected her.

"Please," he uttered softly, the coarseness of unshed regret lingering upon his tongue as he paused in the doorway, back remaining to her, "I can't do this. Not to you. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me."


He supposes this is his way of apologizing. Keeping watch over her. As her friend, it was his duty to ensure her safety, to ensure she comes to no further harm. He would not fail her. Not like those he had failed before her.

How long it had been now?—2 weeks, maybe 16 days? Time passes so quickly now, he hardly stops to fully consider it.

From afar, he watches from the shadows. It had become a religious and constant routine of his now.

Sometimes, he cannot bring himself to sleep. Often he lays there; awake within the heavy folds of the Shinra mansion's darkness, thinking over the details of that night, of that intimate moment. Inadvertently, his mind returns to these details.

Briefly, he allows himself to imagine her. Yuffie. Touching him as she did on that fateful evening.

The softness of her lips as they brushed against his, the sensation and warmth of her skin, her eyes, afire with longing. A longing solely for him.

The more he considered it, the more absurd the whole situation seemed. But yet, it had all been real. She had been so warm, so soft, so alive.

However, he knows it will not be enough. Simply imagining and watching from afar would never be enough.

Not to quell the ache that had grown in that short time spent away from her. He wanted more. Needed more.

Yet, he could not bring himself to act upon these relentless impulses. As much as she desired him, and him her, he found himself wondering what a sight he must present, with his unkempt hair, deathly complexion and ragged, tattered attire.

Why would a woman of her age—or any woman for that matter—care for a being such as himself?

He felt so many things. Things he did not understand. He felt relived. Relieved that he had finally come to realize that he indeed felt something for this woman, but he also felt terrified at the prospect of acting upon these feelings.

After all, it had been a long time—a very long time—since he had engaged in such acts. Since he had dealt with the advances of the opposite sex and temptations they evoked...

The Sleeping Forest was her chosen place for practice this night; for it offered a silence and tranquility other places did not. The perfect environment for her to concentrate and practice completely undisturbed.

The Ninja stood within a large clearing by the lake, the surrounding trees bathing her in a soft, eerie glow.

Twisting her head from left to right, she interlocks her fingers, pushing them outwards with a slight 'crack' as she prepares for the grueling session ahead, completely unaware of the gunman's usual, inconspicuous surveillance.

So, yet again, you have returned to watch her I see.

I am ensuring she is safe from harm. That's all.

Haha! The demon barked out a laugh. You mortals, so transparent.

Another stubborn silence, one of many, greets this riposte.

The Ninja executed a perfect back flip, her skimpy attire allowing her limbs to move freely and somewhat more gracefully than he recalled.

A clenched fist was drawn backward then, and with a small hiss, thrust forward, slicing through the air toward some invisible target.

Drawing her fist back once more, she comes to a stance for a few moments. A hand then flies to the holster attached to her left leg, withdrawing her four point Shuriken with admirable speed.

A loud grunt split the deathly silence, followed by the loud thwack of metal hitting wood as the weapon came into contact with its intended target.

All the while the Gunslinger observed her activity with evident admiration. She had improved considerably; her accuracy and speed impressive, even by his standards.

Time seemed to stand still whenever he watched her. Unimportant. Insignificant.

Approximately twenty-seven minutes later (he was not fully keeping track of time anyway) the young woman paused.

Stretching her limbs sluggishly, she emits a weary sigh then proceeds towards the now splintered bark of the tree to retrieve her embedded weapons.

Wiping the perspiration from her brow, she bends, gently lying them upon the earth before her.

Coming upright once more, she then turns toward the lake, lowering her fingertips to the hem of her top.

Peeling it away from her sweaty flesh, she brought it slowly upwards over her mussed up bangs, discarding it to the floor among her weaponry.

A stifling silence descends, Vincent's breath seeming to catch within his throat.

Despite his self-reproach, he found himself leaning closer, running searing eyes over his obsession, the very forest seeming to share in his voracious anticipation.

He had not expected this. Yet, despite himself, he feels compelled to watch.

He allows himself to feel perhaps the strongest of emotions he's not encountered in a very, very long time. It was lust. An insatiable desire that had lain dormant for what felt an eternity.

Nearing the edge of the ebbing water, Yuffie grasped the hem of her shorts, slowly peeling them away from the lean curvaceousness of her thighs before they too were discarded atop her effects.

The overpowering need suddenly throbbed more urgently within him, aching for release, but he dared not indulge himself as he continued to watch her.

Stepping into the dazzling waters, she lowered the slender tips of her fingers to gently graze the calm liquid surface, encouraging small ripples to form and dance around her.

Do ordinary people feel desire this potent? Vincent thought as she waded further into the pool, the motionless waters consuming more and more of her flesh, shielding it from his burning gaze.

Or, is it solely due to a lifetime spent denying and burying any hint of it? Hellmasker responded smugly. Admit it, if not to me, but to yourself.

There is nothing to admit.

Nonsense. I have sensed her desires, just as I have sensed yours. Hellmasker mused in a deliberate hiss. As much as you so try to dismiss them, they still remain.

Ignoring the demon, his gaze was drawn to the pink-tipped roundness of her breasts peeking just above the water's surface.

He did not seem to notice, but he had long stopped breathing. Breathing seemed the most mundane thing to remember, not with such perfection before him.

Throwing her dark head back as the cool waters washed over her heated skin, she melted slowly beneath them.

Mercifully, Vincent lingered where he was, desperate to maintain restraint before he glimpsed her again.

With a series of erratic ripples, Yuffie rose moments later, exhaling sharply as she burst forth from the shimmering water, hands encasing her crown, drawing them back to disperse thick rivulets of excess water from her locks.

Vincent's mouth seemed curiously dry, his eyes lingering on the shining droplets as they made their way temptingly down her porcelain skin, tracing the tender curves of her breasts, creeping down to the soft curve of her hips.

Watching from afar was trivial. A hazy version of reality.

A sickening desire begged him to join her, to devour every gleaming droplet dispelled amongst her skin, inhaling her naturally sweet scent, tasting her...

For only a few moments more did he keep his silent observation, fighting to keep these persistent urges within him at bay.

Retreating, he traipsed silently between the thickening trees as his trained eyes sought the small, dirt clearing leading back to the coastline.

Exquisite isn't she? I think you a fool not to approach her, to confess your true desires.

Indeed, she is. Vincent conceded quietly, no longer caring to argue. But we could never be together. Not fully. He added somberly, stepping between thick roots that had ventured across the path over time.

Pray tell why not?

I fear to confess my desires, because, in reality, I can never give her what she wants. What she needs. I would only extinguish the light within her with my darkness.

So, you will condemn yourself to a life of loneliness on account of fear? Why will you not allow yourself to acquire some satisfaction, some happiness for once in your wretched life?

I already had the opportunity to. I destroyed it. Blighted it with my foolish actions and irresponsible decisions. Besides, never would she gain contentment from a monstrosity such as me. In time, another will attain her affections. Court her. Give her everything her heart desires. Everything that she deserves.

I detect sadness in your tone. Is it because you wish more than anything to be that person?

Vincent remained silent, offering the demon no answer, for he knew the beings speculation to be painfully true.