This PE4C, also known as Pathetic Excuse 4 Chapter, isn't the end. I apologise for the stinking length on this one. THANKYOU very much reviewers for getting me over 100 reviews! I love you! And I bet Vincent does too ;)

Vincent: …No I don't.

Err… well, I guess he's softening up to Tifa, can't do two at once… oh well, till next time!

I start when there is a soft knock on the door. Probably the innkeeper or something. "No, thanks, I don't want any food," I call, loud enough for them to hear. There is silence for a moment, before another knock. "I told you-" I begin angrily, wrenching the door open, before blinking and stepping back. It isn't the innkeeper; it is Vincent, looking rather surprised.

"May I talk to you for a moment, Tifa?" he asks. His voice is so soft that I have to strain my ears to hear it.

"Umm, of course. This inn doesn't have many seats, but there's a bed there…" I pause, realizing how bad my words sounded, before also realizing that Vincent wouldn't comment on the 'inner' meaning even if he had noticed. Some good things about being that old. At least you have manners.

Not that I had really thought about Vincent's age much before. He looked twenty-seven, so that was what he was to all of us. Easy.

"I just wanted to tell you something," He sounds unsure, like a small child facing the dreaded principal. Very un-Vincent like. "You told me when I woke up that you loved me,"

"Yes, I know…" I'm confused. Is that what he wanted to tell me? "And then I told you not to worry about it. And you said that you weren't planning to,"

"I have to apologize to you, Tifa," he says, voice still almost inaudible. "I… I suppose I didn't know how to react by your statement, and I said the first thing that came to mind. You've made me think, Tifa,"

"Did it hurt?" I joke weakly, expecting him to shoot me a stern glare like he did the last time. Instead, his lips turn up in what would be a smile for him.

"The realization did. I was wrong to say that I cannot love you, Tifa,"

His words stun me. Vincent, admitting that he was wrong? That has to be a first. "How so?" I ask, hoping that my heart isn't pounding as loudly as it seems to be, and that I am not blushing.

"Because… I do,"

"You…"

I can't get anything else out, even if I had tried, because he has leaned over and gently kissed me on the lips. Not knowing what else to do, I kiss back. This feels so right, more so then when I have kissed anybody else ever before. He tastes beautiful, untainted, pure. And he still smells of roses.

After what seems like a second he pulls away, looking rather apologetic. "Do forgive my candidness,"

"No, it's fine," I manage to stutter out. I can feel the blush now. I am blushing like a schoolgirl.

Is it warm in here, or is it just me?