Did I love him?

No. But I loved his music.

No level of mastery could fake the emotions he could stir with just a flick of his wrist. Or the way that my heart responded to it.

I did not love him, no.

But it was damn close.

Legato

(joined; smoothly, in a connected manner)

More than a year has passed since the piano arrived, and several months since Shinra himself came around.

There were many days now when she found it hard to get up from her bed and face her tasks. It all seemed too much effort. Sometimes she wonders why she bothers at all. Why go on with all the drudgery?

She considers leaving. Then her eyes settle on the dark, sleek form of her piano and a sad smile tugs forms on her face. Could she ever find another space for it? Moving it around will be such a hassle, so she stays.

In the darkest hour of the night their neighbourhood comes alive with music from her closed bar. The melodies drift to haunt the dreams of her neighbours like the cold night air; wrapping around them with notes about loss, longing and a fragile hope of being happy again. She knows she's waiting again, though for purely different reasons.

He was never far from her thoughts. She could remember everything about that night he came to her. Most of all, she remembered the way he looked before he left; like a broken man who realized he did not have all the pieces to put himself back together. She waits for the time when he would finally realize he left a piece of himself with her, just as he had something of hers with him.

But he stays away, and so does she. She wonders if she'll ever see him again. Sometimes she thinks it will only be a matter of time until he comes around, while sometimes she is convinced that she had been abandoned by the wayside again, relegated to a memory too easily forgotten. On those nights, she would be inconsolable and cries herself to sleep. Only the piano helps her cope. It served as a painful reminder of him as well as a salve to her broken heart.

Cloud expressed worry and concern for her and tried to offer what comfort he could. But she could find no relief in his arms, and could not even explain her pain. He knew though, that she was already lost to him. Her heart called for somebody else, just like her music always seemed incomplete. She still could not share his music with him, or with anyone else.

Cloud understood this and told her that he would always love her, no matter what happens to them in the future. He respected her wishes to be left alone and loved her enough to set her free. He moved out after a while and the kids went on to live with Barret in North Corel. They were older now, and understood that they would never have their parents in Tifa and Cloud. It was hard on everyone, but things would be better for everyone else that way. Tifa closed the bar and travelled for a while, revisiting the places they had passed through before and going to new ones that she'd never been to.

One night, months later, she found herself coming back to a house she barely recognized. The place was looted during her absence and most of the bottles on the shelf was empty or broken on the floor. Only the piano remained untouched in the corner, though covered in a thin layer of dust that had collected in her absence. She sighed and turned to prop the large table against the door when she noticed another presence inside. There was a man wrapped in shadows, sitting in one of the corner booths, enjoying a bottle of whiskey set upon the table.

He moved to stand and the streetlights from outside caught the edges of blonde hair on his head and the black sweater and pants that he wore.

"Cloud? What are you doing in the dark?" she called and her fingers found the switch by the door. She was about to say more but she caught herself in time. The light revealed a completely different person; white blonde hair with no spikes, stiff posture and long and slender hands more used to holding guns than a sword. She took a deep, steadying breath and looked at anywhere but his eyes. He was here. But suddenly she didn't want to see him again. She grabbed the bag she dropped on the floor and stormed out of the main area, heading for the door that led to the living quarters.

"Miss Lockhart," he called out and grabbed her arm, pulling her to him. He caught her by the door frame and she kept her eyes away from his face. She didn't want to see him. Her eyes drifted to the piano and the cello case that leaned against one leg, collecting another layer of dust.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded in an annoyed tone. She tugged her arms free and crossed it in front of her chest, still refusing to look at his face. Her eyes found purchase at his exposed neck. "The bar's out of business, if you came here to drink, go do it somewhere else," she said with a detached finality.

He stepped close to her until all she could see was that pale patch of skin and the way that his chest moved with each breath that he took. She could see the fine fibres of his black sweater and the beginning of small pale hairs on his chest. She felt his breath on her face, as he spoke, moving the strands of her hair.

"I was told last time that my presence in this establishment was desired. Though when I finally came, there was no one around." His throat gave tiny movements as he spoke and she realized that she had never been this close to him before. He could easily lean down and kiss her, and the thought was enough to cause her breath to hitch and send tingles down her spine. Still, she remained silent and kept her eyes away from his.

"Why won't you look at me?"

She frowned and tried to control her overloading senses. "Why should I? You're a heartless bastard who didn't show up for days, weeks, months, almost a year—" Her breath caught at her next inhale as he tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers felt smooth and warm. "Did you really think I would wait for you forever?" she said breathlessly as the inevitable tears made its way down her cheeks. She saw his fingers come up with something white tucked between them and touch her cheek. "It seemed that you would. I came prepared," he said as he wiped away her tears. "And I'm here. Isn't that what matters?"

She shook her head stubbornly. "You're not really here are you? I'm going to wake up soon and find that this never happened at all. It's all a dream."

"I'm here." He said as he used both his fingers to cup on either side of her face. "And we have a lot to talk about so…"

"No." She shook her head and suddenly she was in through the door and was about to slam it shut when he nudged his foot between the door. In the confusion, she lifted her eyes to his. Big mistake.

There was something different about him. He was thinner than when she last saw him and there were lines around his eyes that weren't there even when he had Geostigma. "I came here because I wanted to see you again." She stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights. "I tried to stay away, but I couldn't. And when I came and found out that you weren't here I came every night until you finally came back. I've waited too long for this. We will talk and I'm not taking no for an answer."

He tried to nudge the door open but she held her ground. She shook her head, determined to be stubborn. "Oh yeah? What could we possibly have to talk about?"

"I missed you."

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"I missed you," he repeated. He sighed and lowered his eyes. "Everyday." He continued in a low tone. "Everyday I wonder why I let you go. And everyday I tried to convince myself to stay away. I asked the Turks to come check up on you every now and then but it wasn't enough. I imagined you, sitting there," he motioned to the piano on the corner, "and my heart ached. And I'm tired. I'm tired of the silence between us. I wanted to see you, to hear you play again. I even brought my cello like you asked even though I can't play anymore... It's painful. But if you want me to, I'll try to play again. I'll do it. For you."

She stared at him for a long moment before tears ran down her cheek to her smile. Her eyes and smile was brighter than it had any right to be. "Arrogant jerk, why couldn't you just have said all of this before?" She opened the door and immediately felt his arms wrap around her. He held her tightly and buried his head in her hair.

She missed him too; she knew she had no reason to, but she still did. Her trip around the world served to distract her from her pain but she would always, always find her thoughts drift back to him. "Are you sure about this?" he asked as he leaned his head against hers. "I warn you, I'm not like that idiot you used to live with. If you choose me, I will never let you go."

"Good." She said as she held onto him tightly, it was sure to leave bruises. "You captured my interest the moment I heard you play... And the second time sealed the deal. Because you played for me and gave me hope again."

"And you're like a song I can't get out of my head. I always hear you in the strangest of moments and remember your tears. You've suffered so much but you still move on. You shine so brightly everything else pales in comparison. And even at your darkest hour, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

There were no further words said between them that night.

The first rays of the dawn found them nestled against each other amidst white sheets. His arms were around her as he held her in a loose embrace. Sunlight caught her eyes and she squinted at the glare. Tifa leaned her head closer to his neck and found shade under his chin. Her eyes traced loose hair that glinted red in the sunlight and she tucked the loose stray strands away as his eyes lazily opened at her movement.

"How come it took you so long to come around?"

He leaned forward and placed his forehead against hers. "If I had known this would happen, I would have come sooner."

"And now? How do you feel?"

He closed his eyes and smiled "Now… I've never felt so many things all at once. You make me feel."

It was her turn to smile. "When I first met you, I thought you were a terribly cold and inhuman. That you didn't know how to feel."

"Mm. I must have made an impression." He said with a smirk.

She smiled and lifted her hand to trace the line of his jaw with one finger. "You made me feel too. Things I never thought I would ever experience." she shifted to a more comfortable position in his arms. "Do you want to know what I think of you now?" She felt him nod. "I think you're still an arrogant, good-for-nothing spoiled brat who's too handsome and rich for his own good..."

He smiled leaned forward, kissing her nose.

"And by the way, how could you be drinking whiskey when all the other drinks in my bar was thrashed."

He laughed and the vibration of his body felt pleasant around her. "I'll pay you for that."

Her eyebrows raised. "You thrashed my bar?"

"The frustration needed an outlet at the time."

"Why would you want to take it out on my hapless bar?"

"I thought I was too late." He frowned and lowered his head. "I thought you were lost to me."

"Well don't get cocky now. I'm only hanging around you now for the music and the sex."

"In that order, huh?" The teasing tone in his voice was back. "I think I should charge you for such prime services."

She raised an eyebrow at him in reply. "You should pay me to put up with you. Unlike you, I'm fair, so I suppose we could trade."

He chuckled then tightened his hold on her. "I never should have let you go that day."

She turned to him and met his eyes. "So why did you?"

He smiled and nuzzled his head on her hair. "Because at the time, I was bored and just wanted to play."

"Didn't expect things to lead here, did you?"

He leaned forward and they shared a shy kiss. "No. But I'm glad it did." She never thought there could be such gentleness to him, much like she had almost not believed the music he could pour forth. When they parted to catch their breath, he smiled at her, light blue eyes glinting in the sun. The cold dewy air from last night blew through the open window, birds sang their morning greetings and the sounds of people starting their day had begun.

Amidst all this, they were quiet and still, safe in each other's arms. Their eyes communicated so much more than words ever could.

"Goodmorning Rufus."

"Goodnight Tifa."

Beginning / End

A/N: Thank you for putting up with the length of this oneshot. I don't honestly know when I'll be able to write another oneshot again but I'm not completely abandoning this little collection of mine.

Thank you very much for reading! Till next time, folks. : )