At the wedding...
Tifa had brought an extra dress, in case something went wrong. Something always did.
She and Cloud had gotten to Rocket Town in a delightful little plane that Cid had had fly over to Kalm, and with that they were at the wedding within a day. The pilot of the propellor plane turned out to be one of the airship crew from their previous adventures, and the three of them had a lovely time catching up as the journey progressed.
'Nice dress,' Cloud commented when she came out of her hotel room. She had just changed into her pretty reddish-purple silk dress.
'Thank you,' she smiled. 'You don't look too bad yourself.'
He actually looked quite stunning in his dark blue suit and light tie. His light hair and handsome features stuck out above the dark colors gorgeously, and the tie brought out the color of his eyes maliciously well. Not that she would ever tell him.
He grinned at her. That was another thing - he had the cutest smile on the planet. She hadn't really known that before, because he never used to smile during that turbulent period where they went and saved the world. She was surprised to feel a blush creep up to her face. She quickly started walking so he wouldn't notice.
'We're late!'
*
Tifa smiles. Was this where the daydream started? Was this where she had started to grow confused, nervous, ecstatic? Was it before all this? Far before, Had she started to dream the moment she had answered a ringing telephone, a year ago?
The smile leaves. Perhaps, she tells herself, perhaps it isn't quite a dream, and perhaps that is why you are so bothered by it all.
*
Cid looked strapping, a black tuxedo perfect on his strong figure. He stood rigidly still, up at the front by the altar, Barret beside him, looking splendid as well. Cid wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. His eyes rested with a slightly troubled gaze on the walkway in the middle of the church, and occasionally shifted up to the entrance.
Cloud let Tifa go first to where they would stand up front, whispering, 'we're not that late,' and she mock-glared at him.
'The organ hasn't started playing yet, at any rate.' Cloud continued to her, but froze as a swell of music blared from the long metal windpipes of the organ.
Tifa raised an eyebrow at Cloud, and he shut up with a shrug.
Shera was a beautiful woman.
Cloud exhaled softly after she walked up, holding the arm of a familiar elderly man with a long beard and lashless eyes. Tifa's eyes widened in appreciation. Shera had always hidden her features behind an overly large pair of glasses, her curly brown hair pulled back tight in a pony tail. Without glasses, she had deep, dark honeybrown eyes, arched eyebrows. With her hair down, curls circled her soft face. Not to mention the dress was the sweetest thing Tifa had ever seen.
'I want curls too, if they'll make me look like that. And I want a dress like that.' Tifa breathed to Cloud after Cid and Shera had gone through the long run of Promises and Vows and all that holy tripe weddings largely consisted of. In between applauses, no one noticed Tifa commenting and Cloud trying not to crack up.
He laughed now, through the eruption of that last applause, and whispered back that she looked fine the way she was, but curls would be pretty too. And did she know how expensive a dress like that was?
'You're no help,' she mouthed to him.
He cast her a sidelong glance, and smirked at her.
She glared furiously at him for a moment, as she realized she was blushing again. She hated it when he did rubbish like that, giving her those.. those horrid arrogant looks that would make any girl blush, even a grounded, intelligent girl like herself. She pressed her lips together and tried very hard to ignore her attractive friend for the rest of the ceremony. Which was difficult for the fact that she could see, from the corner of her vision, that he kept looking at her.
*
Oh yes, thinks Tifa.
Innocence. We were both very full of innocence and life and good hope. She recoils from the machines in front of her, she draws herself back into the kitchen, where there are no things she doesn't understand, except for one absence. But his words ring fresh in her mind still, and she knows she is tired and impatient like a child, and she knows she shouldn't be.
She is afraid of something, something making itself very slowly, very gently known to her subconscious. There's something, says her subconscious to her, that you have been taking into account, and it's about time that you think about what it is. Pay closer attention to him. Does he seem to be having a good time?
No, she admits. Not at all.
There you are, says her subconscious. Now, does he seem to hate you, or not want to be around you?
I don't know, replies Tifa stonily, you tell me.
Alright then, I'll tell you. No he does not hate you, and he wants to be around you.
Why then, is everything so..
Difficult? Finishes her subconscious for her.
Perhaps.
Quite so. Try talking to him, Lockhart.
Talk.. talk to him?
Shh, says the subconscious, here's your chance.
The phone rings flatly in the living room.
*
Both Shera and Cid were absolutely radiant. Tifa let out a happy sigh and then a strangled cough, as the newlywed couple carefully wielded between them a suspiciously large knife ('Cloud..?' She had prompted with narrowed eyes, to which he had let out a short laugh, and said something like, 'well, it's not the Buster or the Ragnarok, but hey, when they asked me for a cutting instrument, they said they had some pretty big CAKE') which proceeded to slice through their wedding cake –three stories –much like the hot knife through the proverbial butter. 'I'm so happy for Shera,' she said softly to Cloud. 'It took Cid so long before he realized what she meant to him,' Tifa didn't notice Cloud's peculiar expression as she continued, 'men are so dense.'
He snorted softly. 'Right. All of us, I suppose?'
'Well, yes!' She beamed at him, paused for a moment and they both obediently applauded, along with the rest of the congregation. After the applause had died down, and everyone rose to go and congratulate the new couple, and get some CAKE, she and Cloud stayed put to enjoy this delicious argument to its full extent.
'Men are not all dense,' Cloud said, playfully defensive.
'Yes, all of you are. Even the sensitive ones. If we want something, we can't be subtle, the way we can be when we're with other women. We have to be totally open and direct and clear, otherwise you won't know what we're talking about.'
'That's not true,' he replied huffily.
'You know it is.'
'There are exceptions-'
'And exceptions are what confirm my theory.'
'But-'
'Cloud, if you ask a girl what she wants for her birthday, and she laughs and says it's alright, you don't need to buy anything, what do you do?'
Cloud could feel he was walking into this one eyes open. Still..
'Don't buy anything..?
'Wrong,' she said triumphantly, allowing him a moment's aggravation in rolling his eyes. He stood up to go get some CAKE, and she rose to follow, still talking.
'If a girl laughs and says you don't need to buy anything it means she's not going to make any demands on you or your money, it means she's leaving the choice to you, and giving you total freedom to buy her a gift. But i can tell you she is expecting something.'
'Well, how the hell am i supposed to know? She says I don't need to buy her anything, I don't buy her anything, it's as easy as that.'
'And that is why men are, generally, dense.' Tifa smiled charmingly at him, he stared back at her.
'Right, Tifa.'
She shrugged. 'You do, of course, understand what to do when it's my birthday?'
He looked at her and then grinned. 'Not take your answer seriously when I ask you what you what you want.'
*
Come to think of it, reflects Tifa now, he didn't take me a bit seriously when we celebrated my birthday..
*
He had asked her what she wanted, and, remembering their conversation at Shera's wedding, she laughed, and said he didn't need to get her anything. And she gave him a big fat wink to enlighten him a little.
'What's the wink for,' he asked, 'or is it there just to show how dense I really am?' looking down at her with an arrogantly expectant look which melted unguarded into something different.
'Oh no, Cloud..' she said, rolling her eyes up and away from his, 'I told you there were exceptions, remember?'
'So you're saying now that, on second thought, I'm not so dense, maybe?'
She smiled at him. 'That's not what I said. Sorry.'
'You are a horrid creature, Lockhart, you must have been told that before –'
'Actually, you're one of the few that knows my true nature, I suppose in that way, you're quite an exception..'
'I feel so lucky.'
'You should. It's not everyone so blessed as to get to hang out with the likes of me.'
'That's true, I suppose.. but then, one needs to ask the question: are there not many who hang out with, in your own words, the likes of you, because you don't want them to, or because they don't want t –'
'Shut up, you cretin!' she cried joyfully, and attacked him.
*
Tifa can feel herself crinkle at the memory, it's comfortable and a little worn out, as if it were an old book or plaything. She remembers that they wrestled about for a bit, and ended up doing various other things as well. She sees a head of short cropped curls appear, with the thin body attached to it.
'They're leaving now,' says Freyj. 'Perhaps you'd like to come and say goodbye.'
Tifa won't meet her eyes. Her arms are tight around her middle, her dinner stands before her on the table, barely touched. She has known this moment to come for a long time now..
'I'll be there in a moment.'
Freyj nods and turns to leave again. She stops when Tifa sharply says, 'Don't –'
'Don't what?' Freyj demands, never quite the patient or the eloquent one of the lot.
'Don't let Cloud leave without having spoken with me first,' Tifa finishes, rather miserably.
'Right,' says Freyj, and leaves.
Tifa sighs to herself. In an ideal world, he walks into the kitchen now, and talks to her. He tells her he will miss her or something sentimental of the sort, he will do something physical to her, a hug or a kiss would be nice.
But it is not without good reason that she has called that the 'ideal world'. In the Real World, he will stand and wait restlessly outside, eye her and keep her at a distance, let her do the talking before he utters a short, stiff goodbye.
Things used to be easier, Tifa thinks, and puts her plate of dinner on the floor for the dog to eat.