Final Fantasy VII

Tifa x Vincent

Chapter 10

It had all been a blur. The days passing so rapidly that Tifa felt like she had missed them entirely. For once she had slept well. The anger she had outed at Cloud seemed to have lifted a lot from her conscience. She no longer felt responsible for him and when she had arrived back at the boutique for the final fitting even Shera had commented that she had appeared more energised than ever.

Tifa waited till later that night to tell Shera what had happened and she had been furious. Cloud had lost a lot of respect from Shera then and Tifa suspected when the others found out they would be as disgusted as she had been. But today was not the time for that.

It was still dark, but truly time to get moving with everything that needed to be done. She rolled out of bed and walked into the kitchen still in her nightgown. Shera was already there, a trembling mess nursing a cup of tea.

"Oh honey, breathe. Everything will be fine."

"I am so nervous, and excited, and what if he changes his mind? He won't change his mind right?" She paced back and forth breathing shakily.

"Stop that." Tifa guided her to a chair and made her sit before starting breakfast.

"He would never do that Shera, you know that. Cid might be a huge pain in the ass but he is an honest one. He loves you and wouldn't miss it for the world."

She nodded, completely unable to speak as she went back to her tea.

The men had gone to the hotel where Reeve was staying to get ready, leaving the entire manor house to the women and their team of hair stylists, make-up artists and the dress-maker who would be arriving in a few hours. Tifa was half-way through large stacks of pancakes when Yuffie emerged. She grunted something that resembled a greeting then started stuffing her face without a word. Tifa thought that was the quietest she had ever seen Yuffie. However the quiet was not to last as Marlene came flying out of her room a moment later. Her excitement was unquenchable.

Shelke had decided to stay in a hotel room of her own, not wanting to interrupt the bridal party while they were getting ready. Tifa was quietly pleased with this. She did not dislike Shelke, but she couldn't look at her without thinking of Cloud abandoning Denzel and didn't want that on her mind today.

They showered, sat through hours of hair styling, make-up design, drank glasses of champagne and ate berries dipped in chocolate, then talked happily as the excitement grew. The wedding itself would be held on the beach where Yuffie's father had arranged a marquis for them to sit and stand beneath. The reception was back at the hall they had been in for the dinner and where the guests would be. Shera hadn't wanted to drag everyone down to the beach for the ceremony. That was a small gathering of only the closest of her friends. Tifa couldn't wait to see how it all worked out, and she couldn't wait to see Vincent.

Shera was looking in the mirror just as the stylist slid the last white rose into her artfully arranged curls. She had no veil, and the ivory dress was simple and soft. It slipped over her body dreamily, the girls stood together sighing at the sight. She was breathtaking. Tifa took her hand and shared a teary smile via their reflections.

"You are stunning." Shera smiled. She was still trembling.

"I am so happy Tifa. I love him so much."

Shera turned; Tifa took her into a tight embrace. "I know you do. We should all be so lucky. Now don't cry you'll ruin your make-up."

They all looked back into the mirror. Tifa and Yuffie wore dresses in the same deep red silk. Yuffie's dress was younger looking, with a fuller skirt which softly folded around her knees from the wide band circling ribcage. Tifa's was more fitted and fell to her ankles. Thin straps held it over her shoulders and the skirt fell from the same wide band only gathered from the hips instead of higher up. Marlene's dress was the same soft ivory as Shera's, the skirt coming to her ankles fluffed and innocent, the band around her waist a deep red to match the others, and all the flowers were red and white roses. Tifa's hair was swept up into something sleek and soft, simple but elegant. As they looked at eachother they could honestly say they had done a pretty good job for a nine-day arrangement.

Tifa put her hand on Shera's. "Time to go, honey."

Shera nodded, took a deep breath and as a group they went to meet the town car that was to pick them up. Tifa stopped to thank everyone who had helped them get ready before delicately helping Shera into the car. The ride was only minutes and yet it felt like forever. Tifa realised she was nervous too. She smiled realising why.

…

Vincent hadn't expected to be put in this position and yet here he was. He looked down at the red carpet beneath his feet that covered the sand all the way to the marquis. He wondered if Cid and Shera realised how much effort for this day was shouldered by Yuffie's family. There was a clear hand of Kisaragi gil in the affair, more than they were letting on. He had also heard that Tifa had shouldered some of the expense as a wedding gift, having paid for Shera's dress and all the flowers, no small amount.

"Are you alright Vincent?"

He glanced to his right where Reeve was standing. "Yes. I suspect Cid is not."

Reeve looked to his right and clapped Cid on the shoulder. "Relax man. She's coming."

"I fuckin' know that!" He snapped back and lit a cigarette. He was chafing at the bit so it would seem. They were not expecting to find themselves back in suits so soon. At least this time they had all escaped ties, Cid insisted on the Wutai collars for all of them. The shirts were the same dark red silk as the bridesmaid dresses, the suits and waistcoats black, and much more comfortable than their previous suit experience.

Mr. Kisaragi was speaking with the official who would be marrying the couple. Vincent noticed Shera's mother and father had arrived and sat in the chairs nearby, next to who he assumed was Cid's mother. There were a few others he didn't recognise and Cloud was sitting next to Shelke speaking to her quietly. He seemed agitated. Vincent considered asking Reeve if he missed something, but a car had just pulled up at the street above them and he knew without looking who it was.

The three men moved into place next to the official and Shera's father went up to meet them. Vincent had to hide a smile. He looked like he wanted to talk his daughter out of the madness of marrying Cid. It was clear he didn't approve of the rough pilot. Cid and Shera really were a case of more than they seemed. Vincent shifted his gaze to the car and waited for event to begin.

…

Looking back on the morning, now she was sitting at the bridal table sipping on a well-earned glass of wine, Tifa had to admit it had been perfectly beautiful. Cid had been beside himself and clearly madly in love with his new wife through the entire ordeal. When Shera said 'I do' Tifa could almost hear his exhale of relief.

She had been genuinely surprised to see Vincent standing at the altar beside Reeve. She had expected Cloud to be there and hadn't yet asked Shera why he wasn't. She also found Vincent was still avoiding her and had spent much of his time either with Reeve or one of the other guests in conversation.

"Tifa!" She looked up as Shera came around to her side, flushed and smiling from ear to ear with a glass in her hand. She almost collapsed into her seat at the table, giggling like a teenager. "I am avoiding my father. He's trying to get me to agree to come and visit with Cid for a week. Could you imagine!?" Tifa laughed. One of them would end up killing the other.

"You look so happy."

Shera beamed, "Oh I am Tifa. I truly am. I hope so much for the same for you." She took Tifa's hands into her own with a deep sigh. Tifa hoped Shera wasn't going to turn into one of those married friends who were constantly talking about the joys of marriage and asking when she was going to be married. Or worse, trying to set Tifa up on dates with her single male friends.

"Shera… why wasn't Cloud a groomsman? I thought he and Cid were friends."

Shera glanced over to where Cloud was sitting and almost scowled. "They are friends. I think. But Cid is closer to Vincent by far. Did you know Vincent had always kept in touch with Cid? Reeve too. The three of them always knew where the others were. I know Vincent doesn't say much but he is a good man, Tifa."

"I know he is. I was just curious. I was surprised to see him standing there."

"Why don't you go talk to him?" Shera winked and picked up her glass, swaying back to her husband. Tifa laughed softly. Shera was so drunk.

Tifa looked around the room trying find Vincent and came up empty. He didn't seem to be anywhere that she could see. She decided to take a walk in the gardens and check there instead.

After walking around for ten minutes or so, Tifa decided to make her way out the front of the hall to check. She had just stepped down from the bottom step to the pavement when she looked up and saw Cloud getting on Fenrir. With a frown she ran over to him.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"I gotta get out of here."

"You're leaving? Now?!"

"Yes." He didn't look at her. Putting his riding goggles on and leaning forwards to start the bike.

"Did you talk to Denzel?" He didn't answer. "CLOUD? Did you talk to Denzel?"

He didn't say a word. He spun Fenrir in an unnatural circle and sped off into the distance, leaving Tifa standing on the side of the road to stare at a retreating cloud of dust (No pun intended). She hadn't been aware she was standing there so dazed until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She turned to see Vincent looking down at her with concern. Reeve was slightly behind him looking in the direction that Cloud had disappeared with a frown on his face.

"Are you alright?" She was so angry, at all of them. At Cloud for toying with her emotions and leaving her to pick up the pieces of Denzel's abandonment, again, at Vincent for ignoring her and avoiding her, at Shera for the rushed stress of the wedding, and at all the others for being ignorant to what was going on right in front of them.

Tifa jerked her shoulder from underneath his hand, unaware that her hurt and anger reflected on her features. "What do you care? Where were you a week ago when it mattered? NOW you want to know if I'm OK. I'm not OK, Denzel is not going to be OK, and none of you give a fuck so long as it doesn't interfere with your perfect lives."

...

She turned and started running without looking back, not even realising where she was running. It wasn't till she had got back to the house, out of breath and flushed, that she took stock where she had run to. She slammed into her room and fell on the bed face first. Her fists buried into the covers. The tears came, but they were light and drawn from anger. She could not believe Cloud had done this again.

Tifa lay there aware of the sun setting outside. She knew she had to get back up and go back to the reception and yet she couldn't seem to get the enthusiasm up to do it. She was vaguely aware of a sound in the hall and still couldn't be bothered to sit up and see who it was. She had left her door wide open in the haste to fall on the bed.

The mattress dipped beneath the pressure of weight near her left hip. Too heavy for Shera, she caught his scent and sighed. Not even bothering to open her eyes. "Go away, Vincent."

"I don't think so. We need to talk Tifa."

She didn't answer. He reached out a hand to touch her shoulder trying to urge her to look at him. She rolled on her back and pushed herself up on her elbows. "What?"

"Why didn't you tell me Cloud was leaving?"

"Are you shitting me?" Tifa's eyes widened with exasperation. He seemed to realise what she was going to say before she said it.

"It is not like you to curse so much."

"That's your response? Screw you Vincent. I've wanted to talk to you every day and you were no-where to be seen. I needed you to…" She broke off, her eyes narrowing. "It doesn't even matter anymore. Just go away."

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into sitting upright. His face came close to hers and denied her an escape.

"Tifa, I saw you kissing. You saw me walk away. What was I meant to believe?"

"You were meant to trust me!" Her voice rose the more she spoke. "You were meant to be there for me, to hear me out. You were meant to be my friend!"

Vincent frowned, "I do not want to be your friend Tifa."

She recoiled as if he had slapped her. "Then get out."

He reached for her again, "Tifa..." She pushed his hands away, trying to get off the bed.

"No!"

"Tifa, please listen!"

"No!"

They were scrambling with eachother for dominance. He was trying to make her look at him without hurting her and she was trying to untangle herself from the god-forsaken dress to stand. She had just managed to get herself onto her knees with them both yelling at one another to stop, move or get out when something had to give.

One moment they were squabbling and then… time stopped.

She inhaled deeply making her lips part beneath his. He took the advantage. The kiss deepened slowly. Tifa could feel every beat of her heart in her veins. His hands slid up her arms to cradle the back of her head, her fingers curled into the front of his shirt.

She became intoxicated, drinking his taste in with each kiss, clutching him tighter with each moment. She wasn't even sure how they managed to fall together to the bed. His hand was on her bare thigh. She hooked it around his hip in an effort to get closer. There was too much fabric, and then less, and then the warmth of his body moulded a relief into hers.

She traced carved muscle with gentle fingertips, caressing the dips and ridges into memory. He stroked her soft skin, the curve of her back and the velvet line of her hip. It was all so slow and tempered. They exchanged secret whispers and soft gasps of pleasure, it was something fragile and delicate that could shatter apart at the slightest wrong move.

His fingers played her sweetly into the dream, and she, so responsive with the notes he played, depressed into the yielding mattress beneath his weight. His one hand cradled the back of her neck, the other braced under her hips at the base of her spine. Heat pooled, spread, centred and imploded. He ignited it again, bought it to a peak and let it burn them both.

Then she was more complete than she can ever recall. They became weighted down by shared pleasure, his low breathy sounds mingled with hers. A deep ache spread, encompassed her body, and gathered into something crystal and sharp. He pulled at her nerve endings and she answered beautifully, till the crystal shattered into blinding pinpoints and her cries became a prayer in his name, her name blessed and sacred on his tongue. She closed her eyes and let the darkness claim her. Her cheeks damp, she slept in the peace of warm arms.

…

Tifa woke to cool skin and a notable absence. She rolled her head sideways to find herself alone. Checking the time she noted she had been asleep only a couple of hours. She had to get up. Where was he? She tried not to panic. Her door had been closed; maybe someone else had come back to the house. She dressed and checked her hair in the mirror, trying to undo the damage as best she could before she took a step out into the hall.

The silence was deafening. She walked to the kitchen, around the sitting room and back to the hall. She knew. She knew it in her blood, which was slowly running cold. But she had to check. She pushed open Vincent's door and flicked the light on. It was bare. The bed made, his belongings gone. On the end of the bed there was a folded piece of paper.

She went to it. Picked it up slowly and unfolded it into her palm. It had only a few words on it, scrawled in elegant script.

'I am sorry.' - V

Good grief that was hard to do. I walked a strange line between how to write the more intimate part and trying to figure out which way was best to establish it. Also some of you might be wondering about the characters incentive to so something so intimate so rashly. Think of it this way, in my mind I imagine Tifa is frustrated and overwhelmed with this maelström of confusion she had felt, to finally feel something so wonderful and pure would have been dream-like and euphoric and she would not have rationalised at that stage.

I do not believe Vincent intended to sleep with her. I think he kissed her spontaneously and got as caught up in the moment as she did. They were alone and they needed eachother. Now... why did Vincent leave? You have to wait and see.

Feedback please? Should I re-write this chapter?