Embitterment
By: Glass Mermaid
Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize.
AN: This chapter is a definite M, but probably my favorite of all of them.
If you've never cared for the CidxYuffie pairing, go read Enkida's Ain't Like I Planned It. It'll change your outlook. It's wonderful.
Chapter Eleven
They had reached a rendezvous point two hours prior in order to pick up a custom part from a weaponsmith several miles outside of Junon. He was an eccentric old man, but he got the job done and he got it done well, so Cid was willing to wait for the delivery boy to come to The Shera rather than hunt him down.
The first hour after landing, Yuffie had spent propped dramatically over a railing trying to convince Cid she was still dreadfully motion sick so he should make her lunch until he went and checked on the crew and the engines. The second hour, Yuffie had gone down and harassed the engineers until Cid chased her away, then she'd hid all the pilfered goods she'd liberated from their pockets in strange places around the ship. Now, entering the third, the pilot stood fine-tuning the helm controls while the thief sat in the sun that poured in through the windows.
Since the night before, he'd had trouble thinking about the brat without feeling awkward. Every day that she'd stayed with him, the fact that she had grown into a woman had been shoved into his face. He'd denied it, than ignored it, but after their mishap in the workshop, he had accepted it with ill grace and had avoided being alone with her at all that night.
He glanced over to where the girl was now, suspicious of her silence, and found her digging deeply into the strap of pouches she kept at her hip. She reverently took out pieces of materia, a few clicking and rolling together, and her contented sigh drew Cid's inquiring eyes upward. Yuffie casually sat aside her belt, and as he watched, lengthened her slim body out on her stomach, basking in her materia and the sun. One slender leg was outstretched completely, while the other was dragged awkwardly upward, her booted foot touching the opposite knee. He swallowed back a curse when he saw that her undignified pose had resulted in her already tiny shorts riding up, up, up, until a bit of the bum he'd been diligently ignoring was peeking out.
Had her legs always been so goddamn long? When had the brat gotten curves?
He wrenched his eyes away from her pert little bottom, higher up her body, finding the creamy skin of her back exposed by her tiny tropical shirt and silly little coat. Watching her shrewdly, he wondered if she was aware of the show she was putting on. Guardedly, he yanked his eyes up to her face only to find her half asleep. Her head was pillowed in her crossed arms, and a tiny, sleepy smile curled lips he had found himself thinking of late into the night before.
"Fuckin' hell," he muttered, and took a huge puff of the cigarette he had nearly forgotten was in his mouth.
Was she doing it on purpose?
As if sensing his eyes, her thick lashes fluttered, her eyes opened, and she rolled onto her back, deftly avoiding an orb of materia with a sinuous (and in Cid's opinion, completely unnecessary) wiggle of her hips.
When had she gotten those breasts?
His eyes narrowed angrily, and he ended up destroying the filter of his smoke with his grinding teeth. He spat it onto the floor and pulverized it beneath his heavy heel. She had to be doing it on purpose, he thought, staring as she stretched out her impressively flexible body until her shirt climbed her ribs and her back arched off the floor. She settled back down, boneless and sighing with pleasure...
Of all the fucked up little games…
Before he knew what he was doing he was striding over to where the thief was and standing over her with arms akimbo.
"What the fuck are you up to, brat?" he glared.
Yuffie opened her eyes, and damned if she didn't look drowsy and contented and exactly the way he was suddenly imagining she'd look after a good fuck.
"Cid?" she asked curiously, flipping back over onto her stomach and pulling her legs beneath her with a leisurely, feline agility that sent his thoughts skittering elsewhere for a long moment. What had happened to the fumbling, awkward Yuffie he was so comfortable with?
She scrambled upward when she saw the same dark, heated look in his gaze that she'd seen the night before.
Tell me I'm wrong! Tell me he's just angry!
"I didn't do it!" she yelped, attempting to bring things back to normal. "That panel thingy was beeping when I got there! I only took one of your cigarettes when you weren't looking and it tasted yucktastic when I tried it so I threw it away! I put your goggles back before you even noticed! I was super careful and I didn't break them! Stop being such a bully!" she ended her tirade of useless confessions when she ran out of breath, her hands fluttering around her as she nervously danced away.
Cid didn't know what to think now that fumbling, awkward Yuffie had returned, so he stormed back to the helm and lit another cigarette. He refused to look at her again as she stared at him, anxious, before she settled back down on the floor and quietly put away her materia.
The sun eventually lured them outside, and ever wary of fiends, Cid dragged his spear with him, curtly cautioning Yuffie to do the same with her shuriken. He sat in the shade of the ship on an old crate he'd brought out, absently sucking on a smoke and watching the forest line for his delivery. His thoughts however, were not so relaxed, as they tumbled backwards over and over, to pale bared skin, dark velvet eyes and feline stretching.
Having grown tired of materia counting, Yuffie was propped against the airship beside Cid, yanking out handfuls of grass and flowers and piling them together.
"I'm bored," she whined, but was ignored. "So totally, utterly, unbelievably bored."
The blonde beside her grunted, but didn't bother to even look in her direction. She studied him for a moment, taking in the faded blue t-shirt, the dog tags and the battered gloves with a jaundiced eye. He needed a bit more color, she ultimately decided.
Cid was brought abruptly back to reality when a shower of scratchy weeds and flowers was dumped over his head, some of it trickling beneath his collar and down his back. His eyes focused immediately on the skinny girl who now stood in front of him and he jerked to his feet and spit out a blade of grass.
"What the hell is wrong with you, brat?" he snarled.
Yuffie shrugged playfully, pivoted on her heel and sauntered away from him, all shorts and boots and saucy hips. He wondered how such an itty-bitty thing could be so damn aggravating.
She tossed out her slim arms and twirled inanely a few times; before she settled into her customary slouch, one hand on her hip, and tossed a challenging look his way.
"I just thought green would look terrific on you," she shrugged.
"Funny, I always thought you'd look real good in black and blue," he mumbled, off kilter and surly.
She smiled brightly at him, and even though he was coarse and jaded and too damned bitter for his own good… under the sun, in that field, by that girl, he was struck by the moment.
She was a vagrant, as at home in the grass and the flowers as she was in a grungy metropolis; all boneless grace and porcelain skin untouched by anything around her. Her eyes were huge and wide and dark and sparkling and he couldn't seem to swallow quite right as he stared at her. Her black hair shifted gently in the breezes, her bandana followed lazily, and all at once he was blindsided by it, trapped by it, wrecked by it, this portrait of a girl he thought he'd known but had suddenly never seen before.
She was beautiful. When the fuck had that happened?
As if she sensed his strange mood, Yuffie walked forward and peered up at his face. His inward gaze and long silence unnerved her. She wanted to hear him swear and snap and snort at her. Apologetic, she brushed a few strands of grass off his shirt and bounced nervously around him, trying to get them all.
"Cid?" she tried after circling him twice.
He shook his head mutely. The cigarette that had been drooping in his fingers dropped to the ground and he smashed it absently beneath his boot. His remote gaze lifted, focused on her own, and she felt as if she were caught on the edge of a razor, his eyes were so bright and sharp and sapphire. Unnerved, she scampered out of the way, behind him.
"Come on, I said sorry," she wheedled, and wrapped her arms around him from behind in a fierce bear hug.
He stiffened beneath her hands, and hurt and uncertain and determined to fix this, she locked her arms tighter around him. She wondered when everything had changed.
"Yuffie," he murmured, and deep in his gravelly tone she heard a warning.
She froze, because he never said her name unless something was very wrong. Beneath her arms, she felt the pull and flex of his heavy muscles as he shifted. She was once again aware of the warmth of his body against her chest and the pleasant scent of smoke and soap and engine grease that drifted from his skin. Her stomach dropped pleasurably and a blush flared up in her cheeks as she remembered the night before.
Cid turned slowly in her embrace, changing the dynamic with the simple motion. Her body was pushed firmly against his, the curves he'd been guiltily thinking about a blinding reality beneath his palms. He rested them low on her hips, feathered his fingers lightly over the skin of her thighs where her shorts ended. He could feel the soft swell of her breasts against his chest, the sharp jut of her hipbones against his stomach. Her legs were pressed tightly to his. He swallowed thickly, and watched her dark eyes become impossibly hot and black when the length of his erection pressed intrusively against her stomach. She breathed deeply, exhaled shakily, her lips trembling trembling trembling, and he was swooping downwards to catch that gasp with his own mouth and -
"You there, Highwind?"
"Fuckin' hell!" he swore, and her arms were gone and she was darting away and he was reaching out to catch her but only grabbed empty air because she was always so damn fast…
"Highwind? Got your delivery!" a cheery voice was coming from the opposite side of the ship, and Cid wished he could pound the owner of that voice into oblivion.
"Just drop it fuckin' down and get the hell out of here!" he barked.
The voice became hesitant, fearful. "I-I need you to sign, sir…"
Running his hand through his hair, Cid closed his eyes and tried to weld the broken pieces of his composure back together as shame and desire swarmed around him.
Shera… Yuffie…
What the hell was happening?
That night, after several hours where Cid had searched endlessly for her and Yuffie had expertly avoided him despite it being his own damn ship, he found himself staking out her room, hip pouch dropped near his feet, knowing that if nothing else she'd return for her materia. He had to find her. He had to fix whatever he'd busted. It had always been his nature to poke, prod and pry the physical, the mechanical… the emotional made his hands heavy and tied his tongue into awkward knots.
But he was nothing if not stubborn.
The crew had retired for the night, and the silence remained unbroken for a long, long time before Cid heard the creak of the door. A shadow slipped out, silent and furtive, and the door shut quietly behind it.
"Funny, I took you for a thief, a cheat and a sneak," his voice rasped in the darkness, "but never a goddamn coward. Your dad proud of this act?"
She bit her lip and her large eyes searched out his lanky form in the shadow of the airships corridor. There was nothing save the dim blue light of several control panels to illuminate them. He was leaning against the wall opposite her door, arms crossed, head down, spear resting nonchalantly against his shoulder. His posture was more telling than anything he could say; all his exhausted dreams and wasted days creeping forward and bleeding out of the wounds he usually kept hidden beneath bristle and bluster. Wasn't he happy? He had his town to run, WRO flights to make, his docile little wife and his huge ships… Wasn't that what he wanted? The sheer weight of his quiet unhappiness frightened her, and she felt guilty for exposing him, and angry because he should be stronger than that. She didn't know this Cid of weary chastisement and tired shame, and wanted the cussing, reckless, loud mouthed pilot back.
"Like I care what he thinks," she scoffed uneasily, and knowing she was in for a lecture or something, discarded her bag on the floor. "Besides, he'd say that I was smart for choosing my battles."
He lifted his head and his narrowed gaze hit her like a slap. He was measuring her and she felt it as his eyes trailed over her body. She wondered how short she would come up next to the gentle, unassuming Shera. She wondered why it stung to know she would when it had never mattered much before today. Did a touch against his chest and a missed kiss with Cid Highwind, of all people, really mean so much after all that had happened in Edge? Her heart contracted painfully at the thought of red hair and wrinkled suits.
Damn him, damn him… It ached and burned and bled so badly to think of Reno and however many new lovers he'd found by now.
"Doin' a piss poor job for a ninja to, damn it. The dead would have heard you leavin'."
Her peevish pride wouldn't accept the blow and in an instant she had slipped into the shadows and disappeared. Cid straightened, swore harshly, and in the next moment she was before him, catching him squarely in the chest with a well placed palm and sending him slamming backwards into the wall. In a second her shuriken was pressed to his neck, her eyes pools of black in the darkness as she stared up at him and he glared down at her. They both twitched uneasily, sorely aware of how close their bodies were. The change was not entirely unwelcome and that was more bewildering than anything else.
"Um, am I a totally awesome ninja or what?" she giggled weakly, slipping away, and immediately the pilot's leg snapped out, catching her behind the knees and sending her sprawling backwards. Frighteningly fast, his spear was pointed directly at her heart and Yuffie's jaw fell open, her eyes narrowed.
"Is that weak point written on my forehead or something? That was dirty," she pouted.
"And attackin' a man from the goddamn dark ain't?" he countered.
She remained unrepentant as he cautiously withdrew his weapon. Yuffie surged upward, once more all awkward gangling limbs and nervous energy. He followed her movements with a cautious, wary gaze, because she had become an unknown opponent and he had never liked being at a disadvantage against a foe.
"Look," she reasoned, "I don't know what happened. You don't know what happened. I say I just take a little Kisaragi vacation and we forget the whole thing!"
While she spoke her arms swung wildly around her, shuriken dangerously forgotten as the washed out cerulean glow of the panels winked off the keen edges.
"Watch that fuckin' thing, brat," he growled as he cupped his hand over his lighter and watched his cigarette bloom to life. He inhaled deeply, and then blew wispy smoke into the darkness.
She smiled sheepishly, the innocence of her expression foiled by the weapon still in her hand, and she tossed it down onto her bag. The end of his cigarette burned red and angry in the dark, and she studied the dim outline of his face.
She hadn't tried very hard to sneak away. Had she wanted him to stop her?
She swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling very young and very unsure. She watched the crimson eye of the cigarette move low, now dangling in his loose fingers. She shivered, remembering the feel of those fingers on her thighs and the cold, cruel look in Reno's eyes the night she'd run from Edge. She wished she could erase him from her thoughts. She wished she could hurt him like he had her.
But this was Cid! Much older, much meaner, much more committed Cid! Foul mouthed pilot, and the only member of AVALANCHE that had to be more reckless and stubborn than her!
"You been taggin' around me, always underfoot and screwin' things up. Now, the moment things get a bit tougher, you're just going to goddamn bail?"
If she didn't know better (and of course, she didn't) she would have said that he sounded hurt, the rough grind of his voice edged in frustration and annoyance.
"Gawd! A bit tough is like, the most humongaginormous understatement ever made! That's like saying that Cloud is just a bit depressed, Vincent is just a bit dramatic and Sephiroth was just a bit disturbed!"
"Well, what the hell do you want me to say, brat?" Cid snapped, and all at once his mouth was running away on him. "I'd be lyin' if I said it was all your doin'. I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't want you. You want me to be a goddamn liar?"
So much for fixing the mess they'd made.
"It would be better for us both if you were," she said with all seriousness, and in the face of her maturity his bark of laughter was startling.
He felt bitter and half crazy, stirred by lust and remorse and excitement. Even the wounded look he imagined Shera would give him before leaving his sorry ass forever was not enough to put the monster within him back to sleep.
"Tough shit, Princess. Always bouncin' around in those tiny shorts and those goddamn boots, grinnin' like a fool and actin' like you own the world... Damn it, you could drive a man berserk."
"Excuse me," she said as primly as she was able to when her body was responding to the desire thrumming low in his rough voice and the need to forget, "I never asked you to look."
"And whose eyes were you hopin' to catch, girl," he asked gruffly. He followed her quick, uncertain movement in the gloom; focused on the faint glow of her pale skin.
She winced as her mind darted to lanky limbs, blue eyes, and hair like blood on a drug high.
Reno, Reno, Reno…
You stupid disgusting Turkey! You ruined it all and this is all your fault and I hate you so so so much…
Oh Gawd, Reno…
Her heart was pounding, anger and confusion beating a staccato within her even as desire cart wheeled giddily through her veins. Cid was completely different from pretty boy Reno – all thick muscles and hard features - and she knew it was wrong but she wanted to use Cid's hands to rub away the ghost of Reno's fingers digging into her skin, his mouth to take away the throb of Reno's teeth in her shoulder, his voice to overtake the sound of Reno's wild groans that still echoed in her ears.
Reno…
Cid was off limits, he was taken, but she was young and dumb and selfish inside and she wanted so badly to take away the sting that the Turk had left her with.
But Shera… Yuffie swallowed, guilt gnawing at her insides.
She could hear Cid stepping towards her, stalking her, and wished that she could hate every man she knew bitterly and completely because none of them were who she'd thought they were. But her legs were shaking and her lips were tingling and she was dying to be touched and if felt like they weren't even a part of the real world in the darkness of the airship. She had always thought Cid was attractive in a rough, brawler kind of way but had it had never been more than a vague kind of awareness.
"Not yours," she hissed fiercely. "Never yours."
"You're a damned liar," he scoffed, dismissing her anger. He was close enough to hear her shaky breathing and the violent desire beneath it. He stepped closer, so close that her body heat warmed his skin.
"I know," she confessed, breathless and ashamed as his hand grazed her thigh.
She dressed for ease of movement and agility, but she had never minded the eyes upon her. It made her feel mature, sexy, and untouchable. Did that make her a bad person? Did that make her a tease? Did that make her even worse? Yuffie's stomach clenched.
One moment she was there, the next she had darted away, as furtive and cagey as a fox. He gave chase with a curse.
She got as far as the bridge before he caught her thin wrist and yanked her backwards. They both knew she could slip away if she truly wanted to; she had him beat for speed and slyness even though he was much stronger. His large hand completely encircled her wrist. Through the glove, his opposite palm burned against her hipbone as he forced her to turn around.
"You ain't runnin' goddamit," he bit out the words.
"Stop me, Highwind," she spat them back.
He cornered her, edging her backwards until her delicate spine pushed into the wall. Her hands reached out and gripped his shoulders; short nails digging, digging, digging. They watched one another warily, old and young and old again, both begging for permission and demanding to be stopped. Then, with one smooth lunge he was kissing her, nicotine and anger and harshness and ugliness and nothing like she knew she wanted but still so good. She pushed her head back against cool metal and wished she could at least pretend that he was somebody else as his lips coaxed and coerced, but he was muscle and bones beneath her hot little hands, he was messy cropped hair and stubble beneath her darting fingers. He was furious and miserable and so walled up inside that she could feel the frustration quivering through his every nerve.
Yuffie tore away his goggles and tossed them to the floor where they clattered loudly, because they were symbolic of everything he was and she could not bear that she might want him for more than a night. He was foul-mouthed and impolite and she'd never thought his eyes were nice or his bestial grins were sexy or the way he took control was amazing and damn him he wasn't Reno and that hurt most of all. His teeth grazed over her collarbone and up her neck, and lust dragged through her harshly, not a pooling between her legs but a stabbing.
"Cid, why?" she cried-moaned-begged. Why her? How could he do this to Shera? What was he thinking right now?
"Just shut the fuck up," he muttered in reply, pained and lost and fragmented against her, because he didn't know why he suddenly wanted her, he knew he was not the type of man who jumped around on a lady, and the only thing he could think of was how much he wanted to hate every inch of the girl in his arms because she dared to make him see what he was missing. He'd been content and tired and complacent and she'd gone and fucked everything around.
This changed everything and he was a creature of habit. He hated hated hated her.
"I never wanted you… I never… I couldn't…" she drifted off, her hands squeezed his arms and trailed over his body, devouring any sensation she could reach.
"You think I don't know how you're feelin'?" he breathed bitterly, "you think I don't know how much this fucks it all up?"
She whimpered, wrapping her long legs around him as he steadied them against the wall. He was grinding against her, oblivious to everything except the scent of her skin and the silk of her inner thighs as they rode his waist where his shirt had bunched up.
He didn't know how long they were kissing… dizzy, delirious, drugged, on teeth and lips and the desperate whisper of skin on skin.
Too young for you, his mind whispered, too much for you. But he ignored everything except the breathless resonance of her voice as he had never expected to hear it.
"I want you, I want you, I want you," she gasped, chanting in a low, throbbing whisper.
She was tangled around him, and he was wrapped around her, and he took her mouth against his again and again and again, swallowing her whole and searching for more. The canvas of her boots was rubbing his back raw. His hands were running convulsively over her body; the leather warmed by the contact. Even her considerably toned leg muscles were starting to tire. Neither one tried to stop the disaster between them.
"Please," she sobbed, and he cursed and shoved her legs down. He yanked off his gloves and stuffed them in his pocket, and his engineer fingers were deft and hard as he wrenched down her shorts, scraping her hips with careless nails as he did so. Her thieving hands were silent and speedy as she returned the favor before winding her legs around him once again. He hissed with pain and pleasure as her rough boots returned to sting the raw skin of his waist. He pinned her to the wall and positioned himself.
When he pushed inside of her, the intensity and significance crashed over them both and threatened to drown them beneath it. She opened her eyes, he closed his, both blinded for a moment by sharp pleasure and sharper regret. The dim blue light stunned Yuffie when she realized she could see him so clearly; eyes shut, teeth bared in a feral grimace, short blonde hair damp with sweat as he moved deep within her. His fingers stirred between them, teasing her higher, higher, higher until she began to burn out from within. She had never imagined what his naked hands would feel like on her exposed body and she was glad because her imagination could never compete with this.
Her eyes dipped closed; a keening whine escaping her throat because the pleasure was so piercing it was almost a torture, before she focused on his face. He was as male and unbeautiful in his passion as he was in every action, but the realization, as he opened his blue blue blue eyes and met hers, that he was Cid Highwind and nobody but, sent her over the edge and she climaxed hard crying out a prayer.
He buried his face in her neck, moving roughly and without restraint inside of her because there was always a chance reality would strike hard and spoil everything. He knew the stubble on his jaw was scratching her badly and he didn't give a damn. Her breath was loud in his ear, harsh and sobbing from her orgasm, and it was driving him insane. He lifted his head and met her soft, dark eyes, reflecting that she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen and he despised himself for seeing it when it was far too late for change. His fingers dug painfully into her hips as he tipped his head back and came intensely, gritting his teeth, her name catching-piercing-choking in his throat.
Cid tangled his fingers tightly through Yuffie's on the way back to her borrowed room, wordlessly forsaking his because there, Shera was in the sheets between them. He enjoyed the delicious rasp of her smooth palm against his own, reading the ingrained teaching of Wutai in every soft finger and the art of the ninja in every calloused edge. They tumbled onto the hard bedding and melted messily together in a shock of bared skin and delirious words.
They came together again and again, a frenzied stamina he wasn't sure he had even in his younger days filling him again and again. He was sore and desperate and completely overwhelmed, each stroke of his body within her turbulent and distressed. Even now a part of his mind knew that he couldn't hold quicksilver in his hands and she was going to slip, slip, slip away and leave him always dreaming.
But he wasn't a one-night stand man. He was greedy and hotheaded and unthinking and damn it all to Hell and back again but if he was going to have her once he was going to have her always.
She had woken him up with her vibrancy, as clumsy and unintentionally damaging as always. He had loved Shera for so long, but when had it become so listless and stale? Had he lost his passion along with his youth, his grand ideas and his ambition? He was only thirty-six but damn it, he was as placid and dull as a man twice that age. When had he stopped chasing dreams and settled into the rut?
He was trapped and scared and he'd never known who to turn to except himself.
He whispered hoarsely in Yuffie's ears when he was above her on the rumpled bed, of what they'd do and how they'd manage and everything he wanted to give her. He devoured her with his eyes when she rode above him, his hands on her hips to control her frantic movements as she cried and cried his name; her body clenching around him, glitter bright and beautiful.
He denied that there were tear tracks on her cheeks.
She was sucking him dry of everything within; the worries, the fears, and the hesitations he never knew he had. It would have been so beautiful if he were hers to empty or if that was all she took... But she was taking the good things to, devouring his hopes and expectations, his dreams and his suddenly brighter future in every furious stroke of their joined bodies because she was as good at breaking things as she was at thieving.
He was her friend and she adored him, admired him, revered him.
Always, her mind wept, I ruin it all, I ruin it all, I ruin it all…
Again, his mind whispered, I want it all, I want it all, I want it all…
They did not break eye contact when she climaxed again, deep and concentrated around his body, and the glow of the room was absorbed by the black of her hair and illuminated her ivory skin until it seemed like she was shimmering. It sparkled through the tears he stubbornly refused to recognize, and her intensity tossed him over the edge with her and the world bled white as he orgasmed. She collapsed against him, all spilled ink hair, aching muscles, sticky skin and heavy breathing.
"Cid," she whimpered, and he swallowed, and settled his hand heavily in her hair.
"S'okay brat," he rasped, and he could feel her shiver as the sweat cooled on their skin.
"I just -" she broke off, a small fist skimming up his ribs and pressing hard against her lips.
"I know, damn it," he comforted blindly, even though he didn't.
He felt limp and heated and hesitant, knowing that this distorted everything in his world. She settled limply against him, her tears dripping messily onto his chest, and the warm metal of his dog tags pressed into her cheek. He murmured quietly about a new future, his voice a rumble against her ear. He would bring her back to Rocket Town. He would make her see that she belonged with him and to him. Shera would just have to understand that he had found what he had lost again - what she had been unable to offer him - because maybe, just maybe, he had been trying to find it in the wrong woman. He didn't want to hurt Shera, he loved the mousy, intelligent little woman, but he couldn't see another way.
"It'll be good, brat, you'll see," he muttered, determined, uneasy. His rubbed her back distractedly and he planted a soft kiss on the top of her head.
His eyes closed though he wanted to keep them open for always, always, always… Feeling her hair pouring against his neck, seeing the skin of her shoulders still gleaming. He fell asleep slow and warm and exhausted, clutching her to him as tightly as he could.
He woke up alone.
Instinctively, he knew she was gone as he opened his tired blue eyes. He had always known she'd be gone, hadn't he? But he'd hoped… He was a fucking fool, but he'd hoped and dreamed and anticipated and for a night he had been so blind and deluded, muttering like an idiot about their sudden future together without asking if she had wanted one at all.
Vagrant, nomad, drifter, traveler, adventurer… oh fuck why hadn't he seen?
She was young and reckless and desperate to fly, already caged by heritage and honor and fuck if he hadn't just tried to pin down her wings with nails of his own.
She was scared and confused and heartbroken, running from some other man and damn if he hadn't just tried to railroad her into something she wasn't ready for.
Planting his feet against the floor, Cid dropped his head into his hands and reached a shaky hand out blindly for the smokes that were still crumpled in his pants pocket. He lit one and breathed inward tiredly. He quaked, muscles overtaxed by sex and wearied by sorrow. His throat was sore and tight as he swallowed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his free hand.
Where the hell was he supposed to go from here? Did he go home to his poor, sweet wife and spend the good years he had left with the stain of the brat's young body on his hands? Did he listen to Shera's quiet voice with the echo of Yuffie's moaning in his ears? Did he drink his carefully prepared tea, his bitter coffee, his rum and beer and whiskey, with the taste of her vibrancy and youth bittersweet in his mouth?
He didn't want to go home at all. He wanted to run and run and run, never looking back, chasing after her and everything else he'd ever wanted that he'd forgotten about.
She had ruined him. Damn it all to hell but she had ruined him and he had ruined her and who knew they'd ever be the end of one another?
"Yuffie," he groaned aloud, lost and tired and so much older.
She had walked in, broke everything without thinking, and walked out again. It was what she did. It was who she was. How had he forgotten?
He spat out his cigarette and surged to his feet, furious and confused and above all, betrayed, by the slip of a girl he should have had the common sense to slap instead of kiss.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he bellowed, stood, and threw his heavy fists into everything breakable in the room and even some things that were not.
He tore up the sheets and yelled and cursed and roared at his crew to screw the hell off when they rushed to help their captain.
He stood naked in the middle of the room, knuckles bruised and bloody, and laughed, laughed, laughed, until he was heartsick and hideous.
"Goddamn, doesn't this just beat all," he gasped, frantic tails of laughter still cutting his throat open.
Cid pulled on his familiar, dirty clothes and noticed with a bitter chuckle that his dog tags were gone from his neck. He tugged his leather gloves carefully over every finger in order to dull the ghost of her body against them. He yanked on his boots, laced them viciously and then stood and surveyed the damage he'd done to the room and his life.
He felt flayed alive, skinned and naked and shivering with misery and shame and confusion. It hurt to think of the girl. It killed that he could still smell her on his skin. How could she run? How could she run from him?
I'll strangle the little fool, he vowed. When I fuckin' find her again I'll wrap my fists around her skinny little neck and I'll throttle her till she sees what a mess she's made of me.
He stormed from the battered room and locked it just as it was with a rarely used key.
"Get this fucking thing movin'," he hollered to the first unfortunate crewmember that crossed his path.
Stupid old fool, stupid old fool, stupid old fool, his mind jeered. How could it hurt so damn bad when it had only been one night?
They took off within the hour, and he knew that he had dragged it out because he'd been hoping - damnitmotherfuckerholyhell but he had been hoping – she would saunter through the hatch and grin at him, cocky and arrogant, and announce that they couldn't forget her.
She did not.
But on the outskirts of Junon, Yuffie was wiping young and sloppy tears from her face and cursing herself because she was running again and she was dumb, dumb, dumb…
She was drained, exhausted, defeated; slipping along the edge of the trails so she wouldn't be seen. Cid wouldn't come after her, she knew that, but considering all the other mistakes she'd been making she decided to be careful. She wondered if she'd ever see him again… and if she did, if she'd be able to look him in the eye without dying.
Shame coursed through her, and anger, knowing that maybe, if she hadn't run away from her problems to begin with, she'd still be able to count the dragoon as a friend and an honest man. She blamed herself but she blamed him too, because he had a perfect life and a perfect wife and he shouldn't have wanted to throw it all away for her. Why couldn't things have stayed simple and easy and stupid?
She wished that she could rewind time, and he'd keep yelling at her, she'd keep teasing him, and they'd both go back to Rocket Town happy. She wished that she didn't know what the pale blonde hair on his chest felt like beneath her palms. She wished she didn't know how soft and bright a blue his eyes became when he was within her. She wished that she didn't know how gentle and earnest his husky voice could be when he spoke of dreams.
The thick and cold mist that clung to her skin was slowly burning away with the morning sun, and she began to see more and more people as she approached the harbor town. Stifling a yawn, she decided that she needed to find an inn and wash away the scent of sex and sin that clung to her body.
Cid, her mind railed and wept and whispered, we both should have been stronger.
Her little fingers tangled in the silver chain at her throat, tags clinking, clinking, clinking against her breasts, and as she entered the busy city and slid quietly into the morning crowd, her thoughts were filled with blue eyes, cigarette smoke, rough hands, red hair, jagged tattoos, and a hundred worthless regrets.
