Disclaimer: I don't own FFVII. That belongs to Squaresoft.
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A single blossom broke free from a tree branch, fluttering down and coming to rest on a tombstone below. The inscription was clear; "Cloud Strife". Simple, yet those two words meant so much to one woman – Tifa Lockheart.
Kneeling before the grave, Tifa picked up the blossom, carefully holding it in her palm. The white petals reminded her of a certain flower merchant that had so drastically changed her – and so many other's – lives. The two had been close, yes, but there was always a slight competition for the love of the man that now was below the tombstone.
She glanced over to the grave beside her love's; the grave of Aerith Gainsborough. Her body had been recovered a few years after Sephiroth had been killed. It was Cloud's request to be buried beside her. After all these years, he never stopped loving her, she mused, sighing sadly. And I haven't stopped loving him.
She hated the fact that she couldn't let go of Cloud, but she loved him too much to even try. I was so blind for not seeing that he loved me then. Thinking back to her days in Nibelheim, she mentally cursed her stupidity. And now he's gone. He'll never know I loved him.
Placing the delicate flower upon Cloud's grave, she looked at the inscription of the tombstone once again. All because of some accident when he was experimenting with materia. I was too busy to help him that day… Running her hand over the grooves cut in the stone to form words, she sighed quietly, closing her eyes.
"You know, Cloud," she murmured softly, "You left us too early. Why did you have to go?" She remembered all too well why he had been experimenting with materia that day; he had been trying to create something that would resurrect Aerith. Tifa had known it was a failed attempt when he had started three years ago, just after Aerith's body had been found. She had let him hope, though, for by then, hope was all he had left.
It was foolish to do so, she realized now. Cloud had slipped back into his own dreamworld after he saw Aerith's body, which had since begun to decay, making her face a gruesome mask. How he had expected to resurrect that, she didn't know. Aerith would have preferred the Promised Land to this hell on the Planet, even if she had been resurrected.
Blinded by love, I guess. Heh, sound familiar? He was reunited with love, though, and that was one small comfort to Tifa, even if she was not that love.
Tracing over the contours of Aerith's tombstone, she smiled wistfully. She remembered times long lost, when she and Cloud had been dating. He had at least seemed to love her then. Seeming, though, was all, she supposed; perhaps she was only a replacement for Aerith, even though she had known Cloud far longer.
And what if Aerith only loved Cloud as a replacement for Zack? And what would've happened if Aerith hadn't died? Would Cloud have forgotten me completely? Rubbing her arms, the crisp spring air biting at the skin her thin t-shirt exposed, she leaned against Cloud's tombstone, picking up the flower.
Almost laughing at herself at the fact that she had resorted to such a childish action, she plucked a petal from the flower. Memories washed over her almost like waves of the sea.
"He loves me." Back in Nibelheim. "He loves me not." But then he never came back… "He loves me." He saved me in Don Corneo's mansion. "He loves me not." But he said 'Let's go save Aerith'; he didn't ask if I was all right.
On Tifa continued, the memories making her heart ache, until there was only a single petal left. She plucked it dejectedly, biting back a sigh of disappointment. "He loves me not." Shaking her head, she tried to force the feeling of finality away; after all, it was only a game silly children played. It held no power over what really happened.
Tifa began to stand up, brushing her jeans off, deciding it was best to let the dead rest in peace and not trouble them with her problems in her love life. She couldn't help but feel like staying for a bit longer, though; it was almost as if some unseen force was rooting her to the spot. As if it didn't want her to leave.
Shaking her head, Tifa stood, ignoring the breeze that was steadily growing into a strong wind. Soon, however, she could not ignore it, and leaned against the tree, using the trunk as something to block the wind. She shivered, sliding to her knees. Blossoms were torn from the branches as the wind gained strength.
Then, as suddenly as it came, the wind died down, petals strewn everywhere. Tifa sighed, wondering what had caused the wind. Standing up, she ran a hand through her hair, stretching.
Before she lowered her arms, she felt a slight pressure in her left hand. She slowly brought it down to eye level, a smile pulling at her mouth. In her hand rested a lone petal.
"He loves me."
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I know, I know… yet ANOTHER short, sappy romance fic. Why can I not write anything long? And why do my fanfics always seem to be titled the last words of the fic? You know… Any Last Words?; Together, Letting Go, and now this one. ::shakes head::
Anyway, if you liked, please review! And if you have any suggestions, let me know, please.