Deal
He knew she wasn't really gone. He was certain her soul was somewhere, watching over him, like a guardian angel.
But that wasn't enough, not to him...
And it wasn't that he didn't want to be close to them either. Tifa and the kids. He did.
He just didn't want the emptiness to swallow him whole. In the church his soul was closer to her... and it felt comforting; whatever remaining part of her in his world was better than having nothing.
And the church was the place most filled with parts of her. The flowers, the peacefulness, the memories... sometimes if he listened closely, he could hear the sound of her voice.
"What about the flowers?" When it all started.
What about them now... everything. Their smell. Their feel on his skin. Their lively color, like the one of her soul.
Her.
In the church he felt near her. And that's why he decided to move there.
It smelled like her. Earthy, sweet, subtle. Home.
Sometimes if he tried hard enough, he could see her bent down on the flower bed, touching the flower petals gently. Pink dress, bare-feet, pink ribbon tying her hair. And she would stand up and look at him with achingly innocent green eyes. Her cheeks flushing, her hair curling. It was the only time he ever smiled, when he smiled back at her memory.
And his eyes would fill with tears knowing she wasn't really there but in his heart. Still, not enough. He couldn't really touch her, he knew her body would fade away the second he tried holding her; that always tore him apart. Even when she was there... but talked to him in dreams.
At night it got better, when the darkness kindly overwhelmed him with visions of her. The moonlight casting a soft glow over her features, catching in her hair like moonlight on water ripples, making the pink waves on her dress shine as starlight. And he was always afraid she'd vanish if he blinked.
"I thought I told you not to fall in love with me." Her voice was accusatory with a hint of playfulness.
"Yeah well..." he wasn't sorry he did. He didn't regret it. It seemed like something inevitable when she asked him. Something he had no say in, but contradictory to her request.
"Stay..." he'd plead.
"You know I can't silly." She smiled, but it was sad. She didn't like to see him like that.
"I should have held you while I could." He says with so much candidness.
"Oh but you did so many times."
He huffs, he meant physically. There is a pause.
"Me too." She says at last and his heart races. "Maybe next time."
"Will you let me know if I forget?"
She looks at him, her eyes sparkled.
"Whoever remembers first." Her smile reached the dimples on her cheeks.
"Deal."
The daylight slants through the windows at the break of dawn.
She's not there anymore.
But he knows she will.