Chains of Desperation
She felt him inside her, his length burning between her legs. She felt the heat, the rhythm of the loveless act. Looking into Cloud Strife's face, into his closed eyes, she knew he wasn't thinking of her. His mind was in a dead place, somewhere it shouldn't be. But how could she judge him?
Tifa knew she was as guilty as he was. She had been the one to take Cloud into her bed knowing full well that Aerith's death had not even begun to sink into Cloud's heart or mind. But she needed him, needed her hero to save her and take care of her like he promised. She loved him, knowing he didn't even see her.
As Cloud's final grunt sounded, she knew it was over. She hadn't even been thinking of making love, or even thinking of her partner. She was thinking about herself and how much she hated herself for her lack of self respect. Tifa Lockhart knew she could do better than a man with no soul left in him. She was well aware of the stares she attracted in public. Many attractive and well off men often tried to win her heart, or more specifically, her body. But her heart was chained to a man that didn't feel it beating against him.
As Cloud climbed off her, his length exiting her as if it were never there, she knew he still wasn't thinking of her. She wondered if he ever did. During the love making, yes, she knew that it was Aerith's skin he felt, Aerith's smaller breasts, and Aerith's eyes looked at Cloud from somewhere far away. But in public, was he still trapped in Aerith's ocean of love, or was he truly thinking of her, his best friend.
In the end, Tifa really did not want to know the answer. She didn't care.
As long as Cloud was with her, she could breath.