A/N: Wow, been so loooong! XD SO sorry. Anyways, been wrestling with this a while now, but I finally got it out, yaaay! Well, here ya go and enjoy!
Disclaimer: Sue not you will, for own not I do.
Week 3: What She Was
"I was born and raised mostly in Nibelheim. Well, at least up until. . . You know."
She was a mother, a child, a woman. Everything mixed together in such a way that sometimes he couldn't tell where one label ended and the other began. Broken, mended, and broken again, she was agile and resilient in ways that many others could only dream about, and made all those labels all the more blurry in his eyes. Sometimes, it seemed for the better, while other times it made understanding her actions all the more confusing.
"There wasn't much to see there." A shrug. Her eyes fell to the glass of wine in her hands, a reminiscent smile tugging gently at her lips. "We were the small town with the nice houses, old fashioned ways, and one grocery store. Sort of like the towns you see on postcards, you know?"
She intrigued him.
"Cloud and I, we didn't really know each other back then. I mean, we knew that the other existed, but it wasn't like our worlds revolved around each other. So you know how surprised I was when you told me that he told you I was a close friend. I mean, when did that happen?" Her eyes went up to meet his then, a small confused chuckle escaping in the silence between them. "I always wondered about that. . ."
It was the little things--the way she spoke, smiled, and moved. Because wherever she went he knew; he just knew. He could feel it no matter how hard he tried to ignore it because her presence felt different to those around her. Hers wasn't light like Aeris' was. Hers was heavier, more tangible, more breathable.
"Maybe," She shrugged then, smiling painfully up at him. "maybe it's how he really felt about us. Maybe we were meant to stay that way right? I mean, it's not like he would be here forever." She sighed then, her gaze once again slipping down to the blood red liquid wavering in her cup. "Still. . .It would've been . . . nice."
With Aeris sometimes he felt thin and translucent--like a soul made of glass that she could look through with a confidence that could make anyone flustered. But Tifa . . . Tifa made people believe blindly. She was a deep rooted hope that never wavered or died; she was comfort and solace to Aeris' all-seeing love.
"You know, when I first saw you in that coffin in the mansion I wasn't afraid?"
She was different in a normal way--something he couldn't quite understand about her yet.
"You looked. . . I don't know how to explain it. Honestly, those first couple days with you in our group it almost seemed like you would get lost in the shadows of the ship. You were so quiet--you still are sometimes." A giggle. "But not as much as you used to be."
She was a taste of Wutaian wine--sweet at first, laced with a tinge of bitterness that was hard to detect after the first sip and just as hard to find as the liquid itself. Refined and yet robust, tainted and pure all forced to coexist in a heart that seemed impossible to break. . . She was a walking marvel of fate.
"I think we've all changed a lot from how we were when we met, don't you think? It's so strange to think of our group that way--backwards. We've all come so far. . . It's still hard for me to swallow sometimes. But, I mean, just look at us. There's no denying it."
Sometimes, he could read her as easily as the books he kept on the shelf, read and reread until he knew it all by heart and flipped through the pages solely for the comfort of it. But then there were some rare moments when she would turn around and completely throw off whatever ideas he thought he had about her, how she was, what she did. Times when he would try to grasp at what she was and couldn't, for the life of him, wrap his mind around her reasoning. Like when she would stop what she was doing and ask him what he liked, or what his thoughts were about some minor unimportant thing. Sometimes, she would seem in deep thought, looking up to find him there and throwing whatever strange thought that had been harboring in her mind at him. It was like she was constantly changing, constantly altering herself to fit into whatever situation she was in, or to whichever person's liking she was with at the moment.
"Denzel is sort of getting better. I wish I could do more for him, but no one knows what this sickness is that's going around. I feel bad for Marlene too. I had to make her sleep in my room. Whatever this is, I don't want both of them getting sick, so I have to keep those two separate. If you hear anything at all, please, let me know. I've been to at least ten doctors and no one knows what's going on. I hear there is a man in Costa Del Sol who can heal him--a medicine man-- but I don't know. . ."
And then there were the times when he could label her so easily; almost like reading a deck of cards. An Ace of Spades, a joker, a queen. For her they were named more along the lines of "the fighter", "the barmaid", "the mother". It astounded him though how easily she slipped from one to another so flawlessly, so expertly that it sometimes unsettled him to realize how experienced she was at it for one who seemed so naïve and young sometimes.
"I'm thinking of closing the bar on Sunday to watch over the kids. Maybe if I take a day off and spend it with Denzel, it'll make him feel better and cheer up Marlene as well. She's been so worried about him. " She smiled. "You're welcome to join us, if you want of course. Since you've been coming around more often now, I figured you'd want to know. Besides, it wouldn't be fair to lock you out too. Especially since you brought me this great wine."
She was Tifa Lockhart: surrogate mother of two, bar hostess, fighter, friend, and whatever other titles he couldn't possibly even fathom her having in the short time he had known her.
"If it's not raining and Denzel feels up to it, we can go on a picnic. Now, I know there's no parks around here, but what about a picnic on the roof? I think the kids would like that."
But most of all. . .
She suppressed a giggle then, looking up at him. "And we can use your cape as a blanket."
She was just Tifa.
