a . n /
8D
:viiii: cope
Denzel placed a sullen fork down by his dinner plate.
The feast hugging the corners of it was, in fact, his favorite dish. Tifa put extra zest and zeal into her homemade tomato sauce, and was careful to drain the noodles enough to make it superfluously sticky. It was outdone, just for Denzel. But Denzel wasn't putting an effort into one finger to taste it.
Tifa gave Cloud a look. Cloud shrugged in concern.
Denzel had been like this for the past three days.
"Aren't you gonna eat your spaghetti, Denz?" Marlene asked, shoveling a wad of pasta into her mouth.
"Not hungry."
"Yes you are!" she accused. "You didn't eat lunch today!"
Denzel glared at her.
As it turned out, Marlene was stuck in the unknown as much as Cloud and Tifa were. Perceptive as she may be, Denzel had become an expert to dislodge himself from her clutches when he had the chance.
The silence pervaded as dinner ended, and before Tifa could decide to follow Denzel up to his bedroom, Cloud gently stopped her.
"I'll go."
Cloud prodded the door open into a small crack. "Can I come in?"
"No," he said, on his bed, crossing his arms.
"Well, can you tell me what's wrong?"
Denzel blushed. "…No."
Cloud released a silent sigh, opening the door more. He stepped a toe inside, then another and another until Denzel noticed what he was doing.
"Hey! I said you couldn't!"
Cloud was overbearing him in a towered stare. "Don't care."
"But – it's my room – "
Three days was enough. Denzel could only spew so many defenses that didn't ripen into obsolete nonsense eventually.
"You don't own this house, Denz."
He blinked, curling up more into himself on the bed. "So."
"So," Cloud took a seat near him on the cushions. "Tell me."
Denzel's arms hesitated, and he stared at his lap for a few minutes. Cloud was surprised to think, after a while of examining him, that he seemed to appear ashamed.
"I…" he paused, giving in. "There's this girl…"
The floodgates opened as soon as the words left his mouth, and Cloud immediately understood everything.
But Denzel continued, still staring at his knees. "And she's funny and easy to talk to and…pretty," he flushed again. "But all the guys like her, too, and she doesn't notice me at all, and I can't think of anything to do."
He pressed his forehead down, breathing out in utter defeat. Cloud reached over and placed his palm on his shoulder.
"You know what, Denzel," Cloud said in a small, small smile. "I have a story to tell you."
As Cloud padded down the steps into the bar, Tifa glanced at him in impatience. He continued to take a seat at a stool in front of her as she washed the dishes in haste, until she finally said, "Well? What happened?"
He shook his head. "He wants the leftover spaghetti. He's starving."
Tifa relaxed, beaming a grin. "Oh, good. He's okay."
Cloud nodded nonchalantly. "Yeah, he's fine."
Then Tifa looked at him with something suspicious. "What was it about?"
He just about evaded the question, already standing up and inching away, but then he made eye-contact with her. "He's – got a crush."
Her suspicion molded into softness and a lazy, I-should-have-known smile. "And…how were you able to persuade him into actually eating again?"
He glanced about the room, down at the bar counter, then back to her. He hesitated, but he said, "I told him I have one, too."
And all that inching he had done rewarded him. He had been talented enough to reach the landing at the top of the stairs without noticing that Tifa –
Tifa had chipped a glass.
a . n /
he has gotten so brave during my time away ;~;
