So, the mood was considerably light then. Nobody really came in. Which can either mean they dislike us, or they don't want to catch our cold. Which, I can't say we really have anymore. Cid's voice is barely scratchier than its normal tone, and I haven't felt dizzy or nauseous for a good bit of time. I should be relieved about that, but I'm actually worried. On what would happen, now. Admittedly, I'd grown attached to Cid, I don't want this(whatever sick thing it's grown into) to end. I sighed.

"How ya feeling, Vin?" I glanced over at him numbly and shrugged,

"Fine," this muttered out like a reflex. I felt somewhat anxious. Confused. "You?"

"Better." The look he was giving me gave me a feeling that he was thinking about the same thing I was. But neither of us would bring it up. I wondered how it would turn out. Scenes then played across my mind; sharing the same bed, the strange moment by the bathroom, the awkward humor we had. I stared at the blonde and frowned, the same question repeating itself over and over: Am I... infatuated with him?

This discomforted me greatly, and I covered the question up with a steady, robotic drone of how he was my friend, and I was just delirious at this moment.

"We're not sick now, are we?" I was almost thankful to be dragged out of the prison my mind is becoming, and shrugged at him.

"I can't say we are."

"So I should go to my own room?" I didn't want to hear that. My heart sank a little. Did he...want to?

"I suppose you should," I mumbled, not sure what else to say. He shouldn't want to stay here.

"Do I want to?" He was starting to confuse me. I had a feeling he was asking himself these questions, as if he didn't know the answer already.

"Uhm... do you?"

"I don't."

"Then...don't," this came out awkwardly.

"I won't." There was an uncomfortable silence then. I stared down at my hands, watching my thumbs mess with each other. "Ehm, Vin?"

"Yeah?" I didn't look over to him, but from the corner of my eye noticed the nervousness in his face. He stumbled over words for a moment, before sighing and muttering 'forget it', and staring at the ceiling. I wasn't particularly fond of the mood that had been created. It frustrated me.

"Just say it. Whatever it is, it can't be too horrible," I muttered. He mumbled incoherently again, before growling and clapping a hand to the back of his head,

"Gah! Ehmm... Vin, do you... Shit. Do you, yanno. Like me?" At that, my head snapped up, shooting a deer-in-the-headlights stare at him. I was perfectly aware of what sense he was talking about. It was not the 'are you my friend' sort of question. It was his uncomfortable fashion of asking me to confess if I felt anything for him. I tried to speak, but my throat had dried completely it seemed, for I started coughing, hacking up a lung into my hand. He seemed embarrassed. "Vincent?"

My coughing fit stopped then, and I looked at him meekly, "I...don't know..." And all the sudden his face is lit up, confused, but almost relieved. I guess he'd thought I'd shove him off the bed and hurl him through the wall, or some nightmarish alteration of that. Its what I would've imagined, at least. Perhaps that isn't normal.

"You don't know?"

"Uhm... no." I stared dumbly at him. He returned the stare, most likely looking equally stupid.

"Er... Do you think you could... guess?"

"You want me to, guess." This was more of a statement on how stupid I thought the idea was, than a question towards it. His teeth chomped on the corner of his bottom lip uncomfortably,

"Better than leaving me hanging." I sighed. I disliked rushed decisions, they never seemed to turn out right. So I decided to attempt avoiding it.

"Do you?" His face grew blank and he frowned,

"Do I. what?"

"'Like'," Vincent practically winced at the stupid word, "Me." Now it was Cid's turn to blush girlishly and stutter. But, he didn't. He didn't even hesitate.

"Yes. I do." Then everything was silent. Even the normal noise of the other's off somewhere in the area was gone, as if everybody had heard this. And it echoed through my head, over and over again. It felt like those words had just (after materializing into the shape of a fist, of course) punched me in the gut, and stolen all the breath I could muster.

I choked stupidly for a while, giving him fish-mouthed gapes. "w-What? You.. can't..!" I regretted saying this immediately, the broken look on his face piercing through me.

"If the feeling isn't returned, I get it-" He moved to roll off the bed, but I grabbed him by the arm and yanked harshly. He splayed ungracefully backwards (not that I've seen many land gracefully after being tugged on so abusively) over my lap. He seemed pretty bewildered. I opened my mouth awkwardly, trying to figure out something to say,

"Uhm, d-don't go?" He clicked his teeth and sat up, shaking his head.

"What does that mean?" I glared at him. He knew what that meant. I refuse to say it. He continued to give me that expectant look, before smiling somewhat and nodding. "I get it."

Before I could realize what he was doing, he pulled me against him and pushed his lips against mine.


FFLove190: -luffle overload- I barely understood that. But. I laughed. xD

ReaperRain: No, haha, I thought it was funny too. I can imagine Vincent pouting at the neglected sausage. And, whoo, positive feedback! Makes me warm and fuzzy inside. :3 Thank youuuu.

I really have no idea where I'm going with this. As long as its somewhere, though, I'm content.