Red roses mean love
By Kimetara
Multi-part
Disclaimer: FFVII is not mine. Nope, not by a long shot...
AN: I'M ALIVE! Lol. Sorry for the long wait everybody, but that's probably how it's gonna be until school lays off a bit... *sigh*
Chapter Five
*****
Eventually, Tifa's sobs quieted. Vincent sat, as impassive as ever.
"...I didn't mean it..." Tifa finally whispered, her voice slightly rough. "About mentioning Aeris so harshly...she was my friend, and I know she means," she choked, "...everything to Cloud."
"I understand."
"Thanks...I really appreciate all the things you've done for me, Vincent..."
Vincent shrugged. "I wasn't aware I had done anything."
Tifa laughed, almost pitifully. "Sure you aren't. Go on, keep acting like an aloof cold-hearted assassin, I'm used to it..." She closed her eyes and smiled. "But at any rate...thanks. For listening. For understanding. For everything, I guess."
"..." He stood abruptly. "It's five o' clock. Shall I go fix dinner?"
"...yeah. Five o' clock, huh? It feels like it's been ages..." Tifa drifted off, before shaking her head. "Yeah, you go make dinner, okay? I just need to wash up a bit."
He nodded and left.
*****
Vincent lay in his bed, staring up in the darkness above him. He always slept with as little light as possible – something he'd developed while he was inside the coffin, no doubt.
He closed his eyes, trying to sleep, to escape the issue that had been plaguing him all day...but sleep wouldn't come. Tifa's words kept battling over and over in his mind.
So many regrets!
Maybe, if I had told him...
Maybe maybe maybe! It's driving me crazy!
What else could I have done? What could I have changed?
Something I've let slip through my fingers...
*Would I be like that?* he mused. *Would I regret keeping my silence? I have already regretted for so long...*
Despite the situation, Vincent couldn't help but feel amused at the irony. Here Tifa was, sobbing over Cloud, unknowingly convincing Vincent to go against his previous decision of loving her.
Deep within, he could feel Chaos mocking him. Monster! Hah! As if she would want you anyway!
Failure...you failed in protecting her...but then, she hadn't wanted you either, haha. Why should she? You've always been a monster.
Haven't you, Vincent dear? Hmmm? Former Turk? The long name you gave for it was lovely – one might actually believe you didn't do anything horrible at all. What was it again? Administrative Research something something?
"Shinra Manufacturing in Administrative Research," Vincent whispered, automatically correcting the demon.
Yes... Back then, the Turks weren't quite so well known, now were they? People actually believed that stupid title... Chaos spoke scornfully. But you knew. And you still did it all anyway. One of the best Turks in history, in fact.
And look at you now. Do you have a mirror about? No? Of course not. Why would you, when you can't stand the sight of yourself! Chaos laughed, gleeful and malicious. Such unique eyes! But they suit you, don't you think? Blood, you've shed so much of it, it's only fitting to be seen upon your countenance.
And your claw! Do tell me, Vincent, which do you really believe you're more of, a monster or a human? Oh wait. You never answered that question, did you? No, you just pushed it into the back of your mind, where it would never have to be confronted. Hah hah...
Why are you here? Vincent asked silently. You can do nothing to me. At one point, your taunts tormented me, but no longer.
In response to this, Chaos withdrew. Withdrew, smirking, silently laughing at the dark man. He reeked of arrogant condescension, and his leave taking formed an unsettled feeling within Vincent's consciousness.
Vincent rose from his bed and stepped through the door. Tonight would not be a time for sleep.
He strode in the moonlight through the plains of Nibelheim. In truth, Vincent felt uneasy in the open, where he had nowhere to hide, and he quickened his pace.
Finally, the tall man reached the foot of the Nibel Mountains. For a long while, he simply gazed upon their peaks – the most unforgiving in the world.
Steel gray, barren of life, the cold mists sweeping in and out through its many passageways... It never snowed on these mounts, and yet it was always bitterly, bitingly cold. They were a wonder of the world, filled to the brim with Mako energy, but with no life in themselves.
*Odd,* reflected Vincent. *One would assume the places where life energy is gathered would be the most thriving, and yet, in actuality they are the most dead...* He stepped onto the crudely worn path leading through the harsh cliffs, just realizing his cloak had been forgotten. Vincent shrugged – at the moment, it was of no importance.
The cold moonlight washed over the little-used trail, faintly illuminating the way Vincent followed. At one point, he paused, remembering the hidden pathway he had traveled before. Vincent searched for a few moments, before finding the small intersection – impossible to see in this light, unless one was looking for it.
At last finding what he was searching for, Vincent stepped off the trail and started up the mountain. He trudged carefully up the spiraling path, keeping his right hand on the wall of the cliff.
And lo and behold, there at the top sat a petite figure, wisps of her long hair blowing gracefully behind her as she hugged her knees. The woman turned immediately to see who had interrupted her solitude. For a second, her eyes hung on Vincent's stoic form, before turning back to gaze upon the desolate peaks.
Vincent hesitated, then taking her silence as acceptance, moved to sit next to her, leaning back against the old treasure box.
It was silent for a long time.
Tifa stared out into the mists before her, swirling and parting, allowing fleeting glimpses at the remoteness beyond them.
She had come up to these mountains in a search for peace. A refuge from the pain she bore. And she had found it.
Tifa gave her thoughts to the fog, blurry and insubstantial. The cold chilled her skin, but she welcomed it. She had always preferred the cold.
When she had heard Vincent behind her, she was only slightly surprised at his appearance. Her mind had been drifting; it took too much of an effort to call it back so rapidly. In this state, everything was distant. Tifa herself had become untouchable, her soul flying somewhere in the mists beyond. She had barely registered Vincent sitting next to her.
Tifa had learned, long before, how to let herself go. To detach herself from the pain and responsibilities of the world. To become distant. It was something she practiced whenever the pressures became too much, and she was immensely thankful for that skill.
She sat there, her skin gradually becoming colder, until at last she was forced into movement. Tifa removed her hairtie and arranged her hair as a sort of cover for her bare arms and legs.
Having abnormally long hair did have its advantages. However, the movement of conscious thought forced her out of her trance-like state. It didn't bother her. She knew she could find it again, if needed.
As of now that, Tifa turned her head to look at the man next to her. His darkness blended into the mountain perfectly, his posture stated a remoteness even surpassing her own. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.
Tifa shifted, catching Vincent's attention. Immediately, he straightened, before turning to meet her gaze.
It was then Tifa noticed he had left his cloak at home. For the first time, she saw the lower half of his face.
He was extremely handsome.
She blinked. It almost didn't seem like Vincent, as if this was a new person looking back at her...but there was nobody else in the world with those blood-red eyes. Not even her own could match his color.
Tifa tore her gaze away as a shiver shook through her body. Slowly, she stood, shaking her hair back.
"...I'm going back to the mansion." It took an effort to say those words, as if she hadn't spoken in years.
Vincent also rose. He look strangely...exposed to Tifa, without his deep cape swirling around him.
His only response was a nod. Tifa could feel a smile tugging at her mouth, one she felt too drained to reveal. *Still the same old Vincent.*
AN: Hmmm. And here I was thinking this was going to be a non-angsty romance...egh, angst just follows along and sticks itself in when it pleases. -___-;;
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