Lucem Dei Chapter 35, a Final Fantasy VII + Final Fantasy XIII Crossover fanfic

Disclaimer: I do not own FF7 or FF13.

It was fleeting, like a dream, but like glass it shatters into a million pieces. The tinkling sound resounds, echoes hauntingly in an endless abyss. She sees the darkness seep through, bleeding from the edges of the broken reality. The luminous crimson glow dwells, hangs so low that it feels as if she could reach out and grasp it in her palm. Meteor approaches, Holy lingers on the cusp, and she sits at a frustrating standstill while the world moves forward and leaves her behind. The astringent confrontation of the military powers sounds as muffled gargles that told her nothing other than wasted time. Closing her eyes, it was dark the shadows that dance across the back of her eyelids. Lightning wishes she could be anywhere else but here, listening to the regression of mankind and society spout from such an infuriating existence. Something inside her snaps as she listens to Yaag Rosche refute everything and remain utterly antagonistic to what she was trying to achieve. People may have different beliefs as to what justice is, but she had thought that the concept of peace would be universal. Lightning smirked wryly at her own naiveté, and noted her own failure as the Goddess of Death. After all those years she had fought trying to achieve a semblance of peace, all those years she spent as a shell of herself in order to play the keeper of Etro's Gate, and after all those lifetimes she suffered because the Lifestream saw fit to decide that she was unworthy – that she was a danger – just because she tried to save her own world, Lightning feels herself finally break. The broken pieces sink like glass shards, with the edges so sharp that it cuts deep.

She stands at the top of the debris and looks over the destruction of Academia's heart. Dust wafts into the air as large gray and silty streams of clouds to sit above her head ominously. The sirens in the distance wails, but its too far, and soon another sort of wailing fills her ears. It's the cry of the dead; the horrible sobbing, pained screaming, and the ever so pitiful pule speaking to her about the mutilated bodies trapped beneath the cold hard cement. It grows furious, hissing and shrieking like a chained manic beast thrashing and twisting against its restraints. The Chaos is powerful when pain and suffering is great, but as the so-called Ruler of Chaos she is the one that enforces obedience and control. But the souls of the dead won't be silenced with the promise of reincarnation. Some speak in reverence, others as a plead, and then there were those who would sneer her title.

"Goddess of Death."

No matter the advancement in science or technology, no matter the ramblings of those claiming to have experienced death and then returned to the living; death is, and would always be, humankind's greatest journey into the unknown. Death brought upon a greater understanding of the world; enlightenment in the knowledge of what happens after death. Though their tones were different, they were all asking her the same thing.

"Why?"

It was instinct to want to live. Rarely will she encounter souls who are satisfied with death. There will always be something that souls can't bear to part with, and that regret is what keeps them yearning for the life, or a part of it, they had previously known. The souls flocking to her now had much more to live for; children, men, and women whom were forcefully torn from their loved ones. Some ask for the impossible, some ask for salvation, and some ask for vengeance.

"Revive me."

"Save me."

"Fight for me."

In the end though, she can only give them reincarnation even though that's not what they're asking for. She can't return them to a life that they had lost, she can't ease their suffering and take away the pain with a snap of her fingers, and she can't fight without consequences to herself. The souls ask her the same thing. She can hear their voices; their accusations surrounding her in a barrage of hate.

"Why?"

All she can do is give them a promise that, given time, she'll fulfill their requests even though she knows it's impossible. Even though the souls should know that it's impossible as well, most of them settle because they still hold receipt of the Goddess' words. What grows though, and storms, is the quiet dissent that's brewing.

In that moment all Lightning could do was ask herself 'why?' as the reasons for why she had fought and fought, but to no end, never brought her any restitution. She had defeated Barthandelus and saved Cocoon, and the thanks that they received came in the form of eternal imprisonment and sacrifice of her two friends while she had been spirited away to play Guardian to a foolish Goddess who knew too much mercy and pity. Lightning had devoted herself to protect that Goddess, but in the end Serah's life was forfeited. Then she picked up the handle of being God's lackey, only to learn the world he envisioned had no place for lost loved ones. She saved her world and her people at the cost of having her own soul ripped to shreds when she hadn't even the chance to prove her good or evil. Now, she sits prisoner to her own people that she had given up everything to save rain judgement down on her. All she could do was ask herself 'why' over and over again, and suddenly the world doesn't seem like its worth saving.

"Light…" The first voice she hears is Hope's, and he's standing down on the platform before her throne. She tries to ignore it at first: the breath of worship that now poisons his tone. As Etro she couldn't feel it, but as Lightning, the voice he speaks to her with acts like an iron ball and chain. It clasps and locks around her ankle before she could stop it.

The people in Nova Chrysalia looks to her as if she is the sun, the moon, and the stars.

Serah, Snow, Noel, Fang, Vanille, Sazh, and Dajh haven't aged a single day since she became Goddess. Every time she sees Dajh, she laments the fact that he never had the opportunity to grown old and so the only thing she can do for him is to keep his mind forever a child's. It's cruel that those people important to her would be forced to fight so long, and she can see the damage permanently etched into their eyes. That's another iron ball and chain, and more continue to lock around her ankles. The metal digs and scrapes at her skin until it's bloody and grotesque.

Despite that though, she's too selfish to let them go.

Without them, and in the realm where Goddesses don't walk amongst mankind, "The Goddess of Death?" Lightning thinks that there's always a new record in how many times she can hear her title spoken with such doubt, disbelief, and judgement. Promises are made left, right, and center, and she still attempts to walk onwards. It's enough to make her question her own sanity, but when others do it; it makes it even harder to act as a martyr on their behalf. They all think she's crazy, and maybe… she is.

Sephiroth's suddenly not so much of a madman anymore, but more of a man who had just grown too bitter. Destruction and war came so much easier than peace. It would always be easier to hate and discriminate, to see life through the narrow-minded lens of one's own mind rather than to learn and understand others. Why try when there will always be those who would rather watch the world burn and find perverse enjoyment in it? Lightning admitted regretfully that Sephiroth wasn't the only madman in the world, and even if she manages to survive this war, the future will always bring more chaos and discord. It was purely human nature. Maybe the world just wasn't worth it. The moment she realized the direction she was going down, Lightning quickly banished herself from her mind. She opened her eyes and ears again, and turned away from the sight of Meteor past the large glass windows that seems to have a strange mesmerizing effect on her. "This is not up for discussion!" Yaag's voice boomed, "Raines, have you lost your mind!?"

"Meteor is approaching-" Raines began, but couldn't even get a word in as the irate PSICOM Colonel continued on his rant.

"Under no circumstances will I allow the Sister Ray to be rebuilt, and never will I even entertain the idea that it will be built using the Planet's energy!"

"Can you not see Meteor?! This is ridiculous! Imagine the extent of damage should it collide with the Planet!?"

"And how would rebuilding the Sister Ray solve that problem?! You said that the Cetra had already summoned Holy-"

"We can't say for sure that Holy will choose to deal with Meteor-"

"And this is where trusting her," Yaag spat, clearly referring to Lightning, "gets you. Goddess of Death? What sick joke is this? Do you seriously that that she's a Goddess of Death? A God?"

"Yaag-"

"If she really is a Goddess, then why hasn't she stopped it already? If she is God, why doesn't she have the power to stop it? Isn't it God's place to protect us? Why do we have to fight a war that we don't even know is coming? A war against the Lifestream and Planet? Can't anyone here realize how ridiculous all this is?! Now you want to put SHINRA at the trigger, rebuild the weapon that one threatened our people and nation for him, all because this supposed Goddess who can't fight her own superstitious battles said so?"

"Meteor is a fact that you're ignoring!"

"I'm am not ignoring it." Yaag rebutted, "I have my best team of scientists and engineers devising the best weapon to deal with that problem. At least I'm doing something rather than sitting here wasting time hoping that a Cetra had somehow, hopefully, talked to the Planet and begged some invisible force, which we don't know if it even exists, to come and save us!"

"So your best plan is sending a missile at it to blow it from the space?!"

"And your plan is sitting here helping SHINRA rebuild a weapon that can be used to threaten us."

She moved, her boots barely scuffing the surface of the ground, and her steps were soundless. Yet all attention fell onto her. Raines looked at her as if he wanted her to say something to persuade him that Yaag wasn't right, while Yaag looked completely assured of himself and stared at her with open disgust. Her lips remained sealed because Lightning didn't trust herself to say anything.

She can't see the end, but she's tired. Her shoulders are stiff, the knots coil to forever hold her taut and straight. She defies fate, but in the end she's just a tangled puppet.

"Then I won't have to care anymore because its hard to care."

"Wouldn't it be great if I'm fucking perfect, that I'm some invincible superhero that saves every shitty life in every shitty corner of the planet?"

"I'm not going to sit back and let that thing destroy Mideel-"

She can see the accusations in everyone's eyes. They're all staring at her as if everything is her fault, as if she had the power to stop this and they think she's not doing enough when she's sacrificed everything.

"You could've saved them! You could have saved everyone!"

"You did this!"

"Then wouldn't it be better if you just... stayed away?"

She can see the sick smirk spread on Sephiroth's lips, the slit eyes narrowing knowingly. His cold, deep voice resonates in a way that makes her flinch.

"Who can you save?"

"I want them to see for themselves how far you will fall…"

"I shall purge them all; release you from your burdens."

He's haunting. He sees all of this and he knows that she would see this eventually as well.

In the heavy silence, Lightning just left the room. She passed through the hallways with a cold grace, never deemed it necessary to acknowledge anyone. In her mind, she could only keep repeating to herself that she was the Goddess of Death and Reincarnation. It was well in her control to let the world go to ruin, and she had the power to destroy the world at her disposal. The Lifestream feared her. The Planet feared her. That was why it sought to control her; to cripple her until she was nothing but a mindless tool. Yet here she was, preparing to make sacrifices for the world that isn't worth the trouble. She is an immortal, and the lives of all these humans around her are like nothing but dust she could brush from the center of her palm. She has no obligations to them, and the more she thought about it, the more she realized that there was nothing holding her to the promises she made other than her own morals. Clearly though, no matter if she's just or good, she still doesn't get to have her peace. Why bother fighting for it then?

Retreating into her dark room, Lightning once again finds herself by the window staring at the setting sun. Another day gone, and hardly any progress made. Humans needed to sleep, and so Lightning knew that more time would be wasted while she spent every passing second feeling as if she's locked in a cage. It felt more and more like she was waiting for execution; when everything she's fought for would be all for naught. The sun set, leaving the crimson night in its wake, yet Lightning never moved a muscle from where she stood in front of the window, lost in her own solitude. It wasn't until a soft click rang hollowly in the empty room, and a dim amber glow bled in to light the darkness. Drawn to the source of the light, Lightning turned to see Tifa standing by her bedside table lamp. She hadn't even heard Tifa enter, and so she had no idea how long the black haired beauty had even been in the room. "I brought you dinner." Tifa said quietly, lifting the plastic bag in her hand up to show, "We tried calling you but you never answered." Patting herself down, Lightning found her phone in the pocket of her jacket and turned the screen on. Seven missed calls. Without her permission, Tifa climbed onto the bed before she dug out a foam take-out box, "It's from the restaurant a few blocks down. It's good, but… certainly not as good as what I can make."

Rather than thanking her, the first words that left Lightning's mouth were, "What are you doing here?"

Tifa continued unpacking the food, but answered, "Do I need a reason to be here?"

"I don't want to eat."

The fighter's hands paused, and Lightning swore she could see disappointment pass through Tifa's face, "I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do." Tifa said, obviously referring to more than just the food. There was that which was between them. That, which Lightning so desperately wanted explained to her; especially now when the control she finds security in slips through her fingers like sand. Lightning watches as Tifa packs up the food again and slides off the bed to place it on the empty desk. "Sit." The pink haired woman frowned at the direct order, noting the look Tifa sent over her shoulder. "Sit down." Numbly, her body moved to obey before her mind registered it and she sat down on the edge of the bed. "We ate with Aerith, and… I got the feeling that she's happier." Tifa said, allowing her voice to gently fall in and carry in the silence, "You did that didn't you?"

"I didn't do anything."

Tifa smiled despite Lightning's words, rounding the bed so that she could stand in front of her. "Denzel and Marlene still can't stop talking about you."

"They'll grow and move on."

"Cloud respects you." Tifa breathed, "And I… you know how I feel about you… but…" she knelt before her, resting her hands on her knees, "You're suffering and…"

"I'm not." Lightning answered almost robotically, "Don't worry." Truthfully, she expected Tifa to question her again. She didn't. Without another word, Tifa just stood up and Lightning closed her eyes to wait for the fighter to leave. Once again, she didn't. Hands slipped over her shoulders, not to weigh her down, but to hold her, and soon they wrapped around her. Tifa pulled her close, resting Lightning's forehead against her abdomen while she tenderly ran her fingers through her hair. Just like that, Lightning just sat there and closed her eyes. Neither said anything. It was steady, feeling every breath the fighter took, and slowly, Lightning matched her own breathing. Her body hadn't tensed at all, and had all too easily leaned into the embrace. Her mind no longer put up with any protests, and just shut down. One by one, Lightning felt her walls crumble. It left her much too raw, and merely just existing felt too much like a feat. She wonders how many times she could break before it gets to her, when she would just throw in the towel and toss her hands up, but it settles heavily that she's finally reached that point. Her breathing becomes ragged, and chokes up her throat harshly at times. The strings of tension snaps and her body reels, shakes, and trembles. Her hands finds Tifa's waist and clutches onto her like a lifeline. "I…" Lightning's voice cracks, "I- I can't." Tifa holds her even closer, hiding her away against her body. She could bear it, it was something she can do, but everything was screaming at her and telling her that she can't, and she wanted so much to just give in.

"Light…" Tifa's whisper was broken, and it shuddered Lightning to her core, leaving her ice cold. The fighter pulled away, and Lightning physically felt her frozen arms drop from Tifa's waist to her hips in attempts to keep her close. "Light, look at me." Her head felt heavy and it hung, the muscles in her neck loose. There wasn't an ounce of strength left. She was tired. Too tired. Tifa's warmth spread like wildfire, and her skin tingled at every touch. Lightning's eyes fluttered shut when she felt Tifa's hand slide to hold her jaw. "Look at me." She tilted her head up, and before she could do as Tifa said, Lightning felt soft lips brush against her own. She wanted nothing more than to stop time in that moment. When she finally willed herself to open her eyes again, she saw tears trickling down Tifa's cheek as if she were crying on Lightning's behalf. "Don't do this to yourself. Light, listen to me. I-" The sharp ring of her phone pierced through her, and the dawning re-realization that she would never escape this resounded emptily inside. She is immortal, doomed to live on only to watch mistakes and history repeat itself over and over again. Doomed to always loose those she cherished, and doomed to be forever alone. Suddenly, the intended fate the Lifestream had meant for her looks like an act of mercy because that was the only way she could die without Etro dying with her. A sudden swell of anger inflates, growing and growing, and she feels it invade her chest and cloud her head until it feels like it's going to explode. One wrong move and the anger will turn into bitterness and hate, just like Sephiroth. It would be so much easier to watch the world burn; to finally see justice. She storms from her seat, uncaring, and doesn't even spare Tifa a glance or how she had to stumble away to avoid colliding into her. Yanking out her phone, she grips it so tightly that she could hear the metal cracking and snarled at Raines' name glowing on the hateful screen. "Give me the phone." Tifa said, and Lightning whips around viciously. The black haired woman doesn't budge, doesn't flinch, and steadily holds her hand out. The remnants of the tears are still wet on her cheeks, but there's a burning fire of determination lighting the ruby brown eyes, "Light, give me the phone."

She couldn't imagine how she looked, maybe like a madwoman hell-bent with rage, but seeing Tifa's tensed posture and the hard expression was like a slap to the face. The anger empties like the ocean waves pulling from the shore, and leaves her bereft of any feeling. Her arm drops useless to her side, and the phone tumbles from her hand to the ground. A wounded breath escapes her shakily, and Lightning steps away from Tifa. In her mind, all she can think about is how she had went 'there'. She had gone down the path Caius and Bhunivelze went, and she was a heartbeat away from seeing the world through Sephiroth's eyes. Lightning stands there thoroughly gutted. Tifa's quick, ducking down to pick up the phone before she leaves the room entirely. Her body moves on its own accord, acting and reacting purely on instinct and habit from old memories better left buried. She staggers into the bathroom, her hands bracing against the cold countertop after she turned on the tap. The water swirled and swirled, falling down the drain like it was simply always meant to be. A small voice; that of a young girl's timidly asks in her mind if Tifa's coming back.

Her answer comes, "Light." She looks up at the mirror, hearing Tifa's voice and she sees the reflection of the fighter standing by the door frame.

Running her hands under the water, she scooped it and splashed it over her face. "What did he want?" Lightning asked, her voice reverting back to her usual cool demeanor.

"He…" Tifa bit her lip, her eyes flickering to watch how Lightning had turned the tap off, "wants you to meet with the PSICOM tomorrow morning."

Wiping her hands and face on a clean towel, Lightning strode back into her room, "I won't."

"Light-"

"We don't need the PSICOM." Lightning briskly stated, spotting the phone Tifa had left on the desk and made her way to retrieve it, but Tifa was faster. She stole it away from Lightning's reach and held it like an unpinned grenade. "If the PSICOM thinks that they can get in my way, then I'll make sure that they'll regret it." Now it was her turn to hold her hand out for the phone, and to her surprise, the fighter gave it to her without protest. Turning her back to the other woman, Lightning hovered her finger over the call-back button. It's like she can see the bright young blue eyes peeking out from the silvery pink hair peer up from beside her, and a small child's hand tugs the cotton hem of her shirt. The young girl speaks through her, voicing what Lightning wants to know, but doesn't dare to ask, "Are you… scared of me?"

"No."

Claire hums even though Lightning's voice feels as though it is stuck in her throat. The young girl drops her hand and moves towards Tifa, the azure blue eyes curious, "Will… they be?"

The moment Tifa took to consider that question felt spending an eternity grasping onto a rope that has long been worn down to a single thread threatening to snap. "Yes." It saves her from the fall. The young Claire beams, showing her pearly whites and when Lightning blinks, the girl is no longer there. Her finger turns the screen off instead, and she places the phone back onto the desk. If Serah could see her now, what would she think? Would she tuck her chin down and look away ashamed? She had been prepared; Lightning knew with great clarity that she was prepared to raze the PSICOM to the ground if they had dared lift even a single weapon against them in protest, and she would've done it without remorse. The anger, stress, and frustration had blinded her; whispering and seducing her to give in to the bitter resentment. Taking a deep breath, Lightning composes herself and builds up her walls with the crumbs of what's left behind from before.

"I'm fine." She says for the sake of hearing herself say it because Tifa knew better than to believe her, "It's late. You should leave."

"And you should eat." Tifa murmured, busying herself with the take-out food. Lightning glances at it and sees a burger with fries, "It's cold now, but I can go heat it up-" Her voice is laden with weariness and worry, and hearing that tone coming from Tifa prickles like a thousand needles.

"I think I'll survive." The fighter turns, this time to protest how she's not eating her regular meals, but Lightning leans in and steals a fry. "At best, I'll get away with it. At worst, diarrhea." Tifa looks at her, muted in shock before the tension flows away. The easy smiles return, but Lightning's not foolish enough to think that Tifa would let whatever just happened go ignored.

"Right, you can't even get sick."

Lightning shook her head and shrugged at the same time, "One of the benefits of being a Goddess."

"So you won't get sick no matter what I feed you?" Tifa raised an eyebrow in challenge, and Lightning rose to it.

"And what do you plan on feeding me?"

The fighter turned to face her fully, resting her hip against the edge of the table, "Old leftovers?"

"So I'm your dishwasher and garbage removal now?"

"Twenty gil an hour, and I'm up for negotiating the benefits."

"Benefits?" Lightning dryly repeated. Everything changed in the next second though, when Tifa leant even closer. Her face scrunched up, and Lightning could see it in her eyes that the fighter was psyching herself up for something. Her cheeks rapidly turned pink and then red, which then only returned to normal when it looked as if Tifa found her comfort zone. Wherever that was. A new determination gleamed in her eyes for the first few seconds, only to give way for a darker and intense stare.

"Real benefits…" Tifa said, her voice dipping until it had a raspy suggestive lilt to it, "Want me to show you?" She could see Tifa's fingers tremble anxiously as they reached her and trailed up across her collarbone. Alarm bells erupted in her head, and every touch the fighter gave left a blazing trail of fire behind. Her heart thrashed in the cavity of her chest, yet it brought about such a different sensation from before. Love had never been a game for her, nor had it ever been a serious matter at all. There had never been a time for it, and even if she did have the time, Lightning wasn't one to pursue it. Why bother? It was simply one of those things that she wouldn't know what to do with, even if it were dropped right into her lap. However, Lightning finds herself in the midst of that right now and everything about herself leapt at the sudden anticipation prickling her skin. She felt the fighter's hand trace her jaw, the exact same action from before, but so incredibly different. "Light…" Her breath was hot against her ear, and Lightning couldn't fight a hitch in breath the moment she felt Tifa's lips nip her earlobe. As if another set of cords holding her body down suddenly snapped, Lightning's hands grabbed Tifa's shoulder and roughly put the distance between them again. Even she, herself, was shocked by the force of how she had reacted. "S-Sorry-" Tifa scrambled to say, her face burning red out of embarrassment and shame, "What am I saying? It's not about the benefits- I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable- I shouldn't of – not when you were just-" Tifa rushed to make herself scarce but Lightning's hand quickly found her wrist this time.

She didn't let go. She didn't even loosen her grip. Not for a second. There had always been the light touches, the meaningful smiles, and the lingering stares. It left her throat dry and her heart twisting painfully, leading her to find out that this is what yearning felt like. "Don't go…" Her words escaped in a breathless exhalation, "Stay." Despite how her legs felt detached, or how uncomfortable her body felt shivering beneath the onslaught of unsettled nerves, Lightning stood tall and proud beneath the fighter's guilty, but curious gaze. "It's about us." Us. The simple two lettered word tasted strange.

The advances Tifa made on her tonight weren't like the ones in Oerba when the black haired woman was consumed in grief and sadness, and they weren't driven by the hunger to feel alive at a time where everything felt so dead. Tifa had been self-destructive, and that's why Lightning had turned her away. Ironically, Lightning had just now been standing on the edge, teetering back and forth, and Tifa had watched her. Just… watched her, rather than doing everything in her power to make her fall one way or the other. Sensing her turmoil, Tifa offered her a smile that meant the world and eased her palm against her cheek, "Do what you want. Whatever feels right…" Standing here now though, and looking into Tifa's eyes that were just so clear with adoration, she's struck speechless. As Tifa's words filled the air between them, Lightning was drawn to the source and found herself holding her breath as she watched Tifa's lips mold the words. "If… this isn't what you want. If you don't want 'us' then just tell me. As long as you don't lead me on-"

Without another thought, Lightning lent in and pressed her lips against Tifa's and everything became clear. This. This. This felt right. This felt like the epiphany she had when she realized that she had been leading Hope down a path of destruction and knew that she needed to make amends. This felt like the time she made the decision to fight the Fal'cies and protect Cocoon no matter what. She felt this when she decided that she would stand guard to Etro's throne, and she felt like this when she decided to turn against Bhunivelze. It was true that there was an obligation to herself and to others that underlies all that she had done, but it didn't change the fact that it was also simply felt like the right thing to do even if it wasn't what she truly wanted. Yet this felt so different at the same time. For this was done not out of an obligation to others, but in kissing Tifa in this moment, Lightning did it for herself. Tifa's lips were soft against her own, but when Tifa tried to pull away, something growled impatiently inside Lightning.

Her arms captured the fighter firmly against her. The desire to be close, to finally feel, possessed her. Everything she had done in the past was something she did because of the choices put in front of her, and choosing between death and life weren't really choices to begin with. This was a choice Tifa was giving her though: to live, or to live, and Lightning god-honestly wanted to live. She wanted to feel alive; to have a chance to be more than she is. Not to be Etro, not to be Lightning, but to be Claire Farron. How long has it been since Claire Farron died? The young, foolish girl who thought she could throw away who she was to become someone she wasn't. How long has it been that Lightning had lived behind a mask, and how did Tifa single-handedly tear it all away? How had she revived the shrivelled corpse of Claire Farron whom had long rotted away inside the cold barren emptiness within? Her hand found Tifa's face, holding her close to deepen the kiss. Her body burned with every contact of their tongues, and an unfamiliar rush thoroughly shook her body in a storm. Tifa gasped into the kiss, and that was what broke to the spell Lightning found herself victim to. Her breathing was heavy against her moist lips. "Light…" Tifa began, swallowing thickly as she searched Lightning's eyes with dilated pupils, "Are you... sure?"

Damn the world. Damn Etro. Damn Sephiroth and this damn war. All she cared about was Tifa. Every touch set her skin on fire, every kiss made her feel as if she was rising from the ashes anew. This may be her downfall, or the pivitol moment in which she finds a new purpose, and it's scary because Lightning knew that Tifa had control over her in a way that no one else does. Serah was her sister, her only family remaining, but Tifa was different. Tifa; the stranger. Tifa; the traitor. Tifa; the savior. Tifa was – is – her sanctuary; a place where Lightning could be free. She didn't have to be Lightning in front of Tifa. It was so easy just to be whoever she wanted, to be who Tifa loves. "Yes." Lightning answered unwaveringly, threading her hand behind to rest against the nape of her neck to pull her close, "Yes."

Her lips found Tifa's again, each kiss more passionate than the one before. Then they were lost, swept up in the desire to finally put a tangible form to what they felt for each other. Hands fumbled with and worked on peeling away their layers of clothing while they staggered back towards the bed. Eventually, the back of Lightning's knees hit the edge and Tifa perpetuates her fall by pushing her down. Wasting no time, Tifa climbed over her – knees resting beside Lightning's hips – and proceeded to pull off her shirt. She didn't say anything, but Lightning could see it in Tifa's eyes. Her ruby brown eyes were burning with lust, but she waited. All it took was a quick nod, and Tifa reached behind her back to unclip and dispose of her bra as well to leave herself bare in front of Lightning. Her eyes raked over Tifa's form, unhidden and revealed beneath the dim light of the lamp while Tifa familiarized her hands against her toned stomach. Her fingers traced the hard lines of her muscles, lowering to make quick work of Lightning's jeans. She rose with hunger, sitting up with Tifa straddling her and pulled her flush against herself. The closer she was to Tifa, and the more she could feel Tifa's naked skin slide against her own, the more she hurt. It felt as if thorned vines were constricting steadily in her chest until she couldn't breathe anymore, and Lightning bled.

Never could she have imagined that she'd find someone who would mean this much to her in this way, someone she god-honestly wanted to spend the rest of her life with. The harrowing thoughts of destruction and vengeful retribution against the Planet that had been funneling through her mind like a vortex was silenced. Being with Tifa destroyed that mentality because it dared her to hope. Tifa's heat was hot against her belly, seeping past the thin fabric of her underwear, and her thighs were clenched firmly around Lightning's waist. Her hands had long found purchase in Lightning's hair, tugging her head back demandingly as Tifa kissed her with vigor. Tifa pulled her tongue from Lightning's to catch her breath, but the pink haired woman didn't relent. Heady with desire, Lightning dropped to leave molten kisses down Tifa's neck and chest, while her hands ran down the smooth arc of her back only to push Tifa closer to her.

"Light!" Tifa cried before her voice was reduced to needy moans and whimpers. Fingernails dug into the scalp of her head to hold her there, and hips began to cant in search for Lightning to satisfy the ache in the center. Everything she did was to pleasure. She did it to treasure. Her mouth freed the body that was given to her to worship and Lightning sought out Tifa's lips again. She fell back onto the bed again just so she could buck her hips, throwing Tifa onto her back. She could feel Tifa's nails scrape against her skin as she kissed down her body, stopping at her navel to dip her tongue in while her hands found the band of her underwear. Lightning painstakingly pulled the last remaining piece of clothing off, and made her path back up the flushed body to see Tifa's eyes twisted shut.

Tifa didn't need to ask, and Lightning refused to have the other woman plead or beg for completion. Tifa let out a drawn out cry as her hand slithered to the touch between parted thighs. "Tifa…" her whisper drew the fighter's attention, and even though her eyes were closed to deal with the torrents of sensations Lightning elicited with every tender stroke. She watched her expression carefully, all the while leaving soft kisses to her temple and jaw. Only until she felt that she found the right moment, did she allow her fingers to enter. Tifa let out a sharp cry, and Lightning continued pleasuring with steady and constant assurance. Finding completion in her hands, Tifa fell back onto the bed, drained and exhausted. She watched in idle fascination, eyes tracing how the light of the lamp danced in the reflection of the small beads of sweat shimmering over Tifa's nude body. Bare of any clothes, no covers, so nothing was hidden away, Lightning took the moment to appreciate the touch of her skin. Her fingers ghosted over her hipbone and wandered, feathering up her waist until she reached the curve of her breast, and it was teasing enough to stir Tifa out of the aftershocks.

The amount of contentment and joy brimming in Tifa's eyes was enough to steal her strength. Her body was rendered weak beneath Tifa's tender hands as they wound around Lightning's neck to pull her down. "I want to make you feel good too." She didn't think about anything; nothing about Nova Chrysalia, nothing about her past, and nothing about the future and the war that it would bring. Tifa's sensual whisper caressed the shell of her ear before her lips found the sensitive spot at the junction if Lightning's jaw and neck. Her hands clenched the sheets, and before she knew it, Lightning was on her back. A guttural moan escaped her lips when Tifa began rocking their bodies flush against one another's. Her mind blanked, and that was what made Lightning tear herself away from the lascivious thoughts.

The peace never lasts, and Lightning only has her rational mind to thank for that. Her doubts would never be fully silenced, her vulnerabilities would never be fully erased, but now that she was with Tifa… it felt as if her greatest fears were even more pronounced. Lightning's hands gripped Tifa's hips forcefully, stopping all movements. Yet she didn't push her away. The heat and friction that was between them wasn't something she wanted to part with. "Stop." Her voice was hoarse, quivering as she reigned in her control again.

She did do as told, but it felt as if Tifa had a much harder time suppressing the desire coursing through their veins. Her hands were in deadlock, fingers digging into her skin and as if to retaliate, Tifa bit down hard on her shoulder. Lightning hissed from the burst of pain, and was forced to fight with the sudden contrast of animalistic lust and apologetic love when she felt Tifa's tongue glide across the broken skin. "Afraid that…" Tifa's voice was just as throaty, "you might pass out because of me?"

It was unnerving how accurate Tifa's tease was. Lightning hoped that it was just a joke. "Is that what you think?"

"Either that or you're a sadist. Or a masochist. I can't tell." Their bodies fit so easily together, and it felt like the most natural thing for Tifa to snuggle, but Lightning would deny her that as well. Lightning eased herself away, peeling Tifa's unwilling arms off, and recovered her clothes that were scattered on the ground. The night was still young and dark, and sunrise wouldn't come for several hours to mark the beginning of another day filled with anxiety about the inevitable war. Clad in her undergarments, Lightning could already feel a migraine crawling across her temple at a mere thought of what she would have to face in the coming day. As an immortal, as the Goddess of Death, and as she stands on the precipice of war, Lightning couldn't – shouldn't – have allowed herself to do something as stupid as falling in love. Yet she did. All this time, she could feel Tifa's gaze on her and when she finally turned to face her temptation, Lightning nearly gave up again. Her long silky black hair that Lightning had the pleasure of running her hands through earlier slipped over her shoulder, the ends dancing across her lower back as Tifa sat up on the bed completely naked. Her expression open and vulnerable. It made Lightning hate herself for making Tifa look vulnerable again. "I'm not going to let you write everything between us off as a one night stand."

"No." Lightning shook her head, "Of course not. That's not what I meant."

"Then what is it?" She gathered some of her self-control to take a seat on the edge of the bed closest to Tifa. Like a lock, the pinkette's jaw stiffened and her mind stormed. She contemplated the weight of the words she wanted to say, wondered if she truly understood the meaning to them, and considered Tifa's request. The one thing that Lightning believed as law was that one shouldn't look into the future as if either sadness or happiness was a given. Life was a mixture of both. It was as simple as that. For Tifa to ask her to confess only after she had secured a future was too severely optimistic for someone like herself. As much as Tifa made her think that she could go back to being just Claire Farron, she knew that the person she was now is already too tainted as both Lightning and Etro as well. She could never choose to have only one or the other, and it was all about compromise. Now it was Tifa's turn to compromise because Lightning knew deep down that it was impossible for her to promise the perfect future that Tifa envisioned.

The words left her like a breath of air, soft and quiet, "I love you." Her mouth parted slightly, and the beginnings of a slight frown began to show on Tifa's expression. Lightning did nothing to amend it though. She didn't do anything wrong, and acted accordingly to her principals. A mortal like Tifa could look to the future and see change and progress until death. An immortal like Lightning will only see the stillness that would be her forever. Besides, the future was a concept of time that never arrives and if Tifa understood that, then she must also have realized that she had consequently asked Lightning to never say those three little words. "At the very least… you know how I feel if I never get the chance to-"

A single finger pressed to her lips held her at bay. "I know that already." Tifa breathed, "Light, I know and you made that clear to me tonight. Words… aren't the only way to tell someone how you feel. I understand." Under no circumstances would Lightning promise Tifa a future, especially since life always seemed so fickle. As if Tifa could read her mind, the fighter gently molded her palm to Lightning's cheek, "Maybe… there is no happily ever after. Not for us… and maybe we're just… too different. I love you too." She leaned in and brushed their lips together, "I'm going to hold onto you for as long as I can."

She finally smiled for Tifa to see. "I'm not letting you go either…" Lightning murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of Tifa's lips, "…at least, not if I can help it."

"So…" Tifa trailed while her hand slithered upwards, fingers working their way into what little clothing Lightning had just put on, "that doesn't explain why we had to stop." Her tone took on a certain dirty playfulness.

"You know."

"I know?" Tifa repeated, raising an eyebrow before she giggled, "Are you serious?"

"Losing consciousness and sleeping are the same thing. Besides," Lightning merely shook her head, "you should get some proper sleep."

"Proper?" Tifa giggled, "So I was getting some improper sleep just now?"

"You know what I mean."

"Or maybe you're running away under the pretense that you're letting me get some proper sleep. There's always some fine print with you… like a disclaimer, or something like that."

"It pays to be careful."

"Saying that you're careful is a nice way of putting it." Tifa quipped.

"Maybe it is." Lightning admitted, "It's late anyways. Try to get some sleep." She glanced at the clock, "It's three in the morning."

"I'm not tired." Tifa grinned, "Might as well get an early head-start then!"

"And what do you want to do at three in the morning?"

A few seconds passed as Lightning watched on to see a soft pink blush barely kept at bay dust over Tifa's cheekbones. "How about…" Tifa hovered over her, hooking her hair behind her ear before she walked two fingers up Lightning's stomach, "we can start with a morning shower. Just because I can't pleasure you… doesn't mean you can't pleasure me. Care to join?"

If anything, Lightning hoped her expression had masked how her heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. "Aren't you bold? Or is this just sex now?"

Just like that, the magic was undone and Tifa's face flushed beet red while it scrambled to compose itself to form a mixture of indignation, embarrassment, arousal, and just overall poutiness. "I-I- well, I'd never!" Scrambling onto her feet, the fighter swiftly hid herself in the washroom while laughter tumbled from Lightning's lips to fill the room. It was such a light-hearted feeling, and hearing her own laughter made her realize that she had forgotten how it sounded like.

"It's just a three letter word, Tifa." Lightning called out to her, over the sound of the gushing water now coming from the shower. It was entirely lost on her as to why her temptress needed to pep talk herself before making any insinuations, and blush and stutter like a shy teenager at the mention of the word 'sex,' especially after what they had just done on the very bed Lightning was still sitting on. Rising, Lightning rolled her shoulders and heard the bones and tendons snap and crack. Meteor hung even closer past the window, and she stood there marveling at how things could change so quickly at times. She looked at the place where she had stood before Tifa came tumbling into her night, and shook her head self-deprecatingly. Tifa didn't bother locking, or even closing the bathroom door, so Lightning slipped in. The black haired beauty was already inside, her head raised to the face the shower head while hot water and steam caressed over her flawless body.

Stripping herself down, Lightning stepped into the shower just as Tifa turned to face her with a sly sensual smirk. Tifa returned her earlier questions as a sinful tease, "Aren't you bold? Or is this just sex now?"

"Well," Lightning purposefully drew out the long 'L' sound, adding a more dangerous purr to her words, "I'd never..." She cornered Tifa against one of the walls, and she looked as if she was enjoying herself far too much. The hot water pounded against their skin, cascading in long trails while the mist wrapped around them. Tifa greedily drank up the sight, hunger brewing dangerously in those covetous ruby brown eyes. She leant in, purposefully leaving just a hair's width between them to give the insatiable breadth to be so close, yet not close enough. For what it was worth, it didn't last for long and that was the whole point.

There you have it folks! Lightning/Tifa all the way! Finally! Right? ;)