Wow, I'm sick of doubt
Live in the light of certain
South
Cruel bindings.
The servants have the power
Dog-men and their mean women
Pulling poor blankets over
Our sailors

I'm sick of dour faces
Staring at me from the TV
Tower, I want roses in
My garden bower; dig?
Royal babies, rubies
Must now replace aborted
Strangers in the mud
These mutants, blood-meal
For the plant that's plowed.

They are waiting to take us into
The severed garden
Do you know how pale and wanton thrillful
Comes death on a strange hour
Unannounced, unplanned for
Like a scaring over-friendly guest you've
Brought to bed
Death makes angels of us all
And gives us wings
Where we had shoulders
Smooth as raven's
Claws

No more money, no more fancy dress
This other kingdom seems by far the best
Until it's other jaw reveals incest
And loose obedience to a vegetable law.

I will not go
Prefer a feast of friends
To the giant family.

Jim Morrison 1943-1971

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"So, you and your friend, Cloud, were getting pretty close."

Sitting up straight, Tifa stared at the ceiling with one arm behind her neck and the other hanging comfortably to support a dwindling cigarette. Reliving these memories was becoming harder than she expected. It was difficult realizing how many once and a lifetime opportunities she had blown by making stupid choices. So many things could have been different if she hadn't taken the easy way out.

"Yes."

"What changed?" The doctor asked while placing the expensive ballpoint pen she was writing with down on her pad and removing designer glasses from penetrating eyes.

"My choices. He was willing to be there for me even when I started fucking up beyond belief," Tifa explained, taking a quick drag from her smoke without refocusing her gaze away from mundane ceiling tiles, "I pushed him away and told him I didn't need him. It came to the point where we weren't even friends anymore."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Her breathing was heavy; body weak and barely responding. She cried as the cold air slapped against her face and stung the tracks fallen tears had created. She didn't know why she was running but if on the way a hole was discovered, Tifa Lockheart would be no stranger to burrowing herself within its confines. She wanted to disappear; physically, mentally, and spiritually.

"As you know, your mother hasn't been feeling very well lately," Mr. Lockheart began while placing a comforting hand on his wife's back, "So, we went to the doctors to see what the problem was."

The town was so quiet, it was almost surreally comforting. There were no gossiping neighbors or scenes of drama from disputing couples. It was pure serenity, from the clear starry sky to the frigid cobblestone floor. Tifa continued to run until her sobs began to clog up a breathless windpipe. The impact caused her to stop dead in her tracks, cough, and vomit from the unnecessary gagging her nerves had selfishly procured.

"Tifa, I'm so sorry," Sarah had busted out before standing up and grabbing her daughter into an embrace.

"What's going on? Mom, please tell me."

Tears mixed with bile as the cold air caused her to convulse. She tried as hard as she could to keep control. Spitting out the foul taste, Tifa wiped her mouth after clearing her flushed cheeks of excess moisture. She was a mess and that much was obvious. But appearances aside, a much more important question arose in the back of her haunted mind. She couldn't go home so where was she going to spend the night?

"Honey," Tiff's mother began, caressing the young girl's cheek lovingly and fighting back dominating tears, "I went to the doctor's today and he told me I had been sick for a while. He told me I should have come to him sooner."

Tifa took a deep breath and continued walking, shoulders hunched and hands submerged within welcoming pockets to escape from the blistering cold. She had plenty of options when it came to roofs over her head but when it came to being sheltered, a viable reason had to be provided. The reason, at least the true reason for her current homeless stature, wasn't something she wanted to merely fill people in on much less discuss in depth. The well would be as good a place to sleep as any.

"What are you talking about? Stop beating around the bush and please just tell me. Please."

Sighing, the brunette walked towards the run down well and took a seat against its surface. It wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, especially when the only attire on her body was jeans and a t-shirt during such a chilly night. Cradling her body within her arms, Tifa leaned her head back and shut bright eyes away from such an apathetic world. Most people would call her crazy from choosing a well instead of the warm, comforting house of a friend. But, if there was one place you could sleep out on the streets without getting harassed, it would be Nibelheim. She knew this and therefore took advantage of that piece of universal knowledge.

"I don't have long. I would say three, maybe four months tops," the Lockheart matriarch chocked as tears continued to flow freely down her cheeks with intentions of not only placing vulnerability on display but also to ravage perfectly assembled makeup, "Don't cry, baby, things will work out. I promise."

A tear slithered itself through bushels of thick eyelashes and down a pasty complexioned cheek. She opened her eyes and felt her chest contract in pain. Her heart continued to vibrantly beat but with every necessary movement, it tore millimeters of muscle without remorse. Burying her face in frostbitten hands, she sobbed as a shriveling heart continued to break. Her mother had meant more to her than anyone on this planet. How was she going to survive without her guidance and advice?

"What do you mean everything's going to be fine? You're going to die, so no, it's not going to be fucking fine," Tifa screamed, making her face and unnatural shade of red.

"Watch your tone!"

Ignoring her father's warning, she continued, "What do you have?"

She supported her head by placing a nerve reckoned hand on her forehead. Tifa was angry, insatiable sickness brought to life by the fury gnawing away at her insides and almost resurrecting the queasy feeling that ejected her lunch onto the floor. She remembered when her mother had first sat her down on a piano bench and how disinterested she was. For a seven year old, she sure knew how to harness her inner bitch. She kicked and screamed every time the woman forced her onto the bench. But as time went by, the inspiration came along with a free gift of beautiful music. Tifa remembered asking her how she knew she would be able to pick up an instrument she had absolutely no passion for. Her mother smiled and simply stated, "You have the same glow my mother told me I possessed. The glow only the soul of a true pianist could emit." The child had willingly practiced every day, opinion of the piano changing the minute she heard that short, yet mind altering, explanation.

"Cancer. It's too far along in its process, already damaging more than enough for chemo to do anything more than make me sick. You have to understand, honey, please. I don't want whatever time I have left with you to be spoiled by bitterness and awkwardness. Understand and accept, that's all I ask."

She remembered how her father would constantly work and instead of being allowed to feel his absence, Mrs. Lockheart dug into her large assortment of musical choices, placed it on the stereo, dressed up both in ridiculous costumes, and danced the blues away. Tifa had learned much about numerous artists and genres through this method of education. Also, in addition, they would watch movies, bake any junk food they had the ingredients for, read to each other while incorporating certain words to make the story more humorous, and, time after time, go out for drives to the beach where they would horse around before sitting down and conversating. More tears escaped as she reflected on the memories this one woman had provided her with. She knew she had taken it all for granted and that made the pain far more unbearable.

"No, you can't just expect me not to get upset about this," Tifa shouted, raging emotions preventing her from lowering the tone in her voice, "I'm not going to accept this because it's all bullshit! This crap is mind numbing and I'm not just going to stand here and wait for things to alleviate themselves. Screw this!"

"Tifa wait!"

"I need to be alone. Don't wait up for me," the only child of the Lockheart clan exclaimed before slamming the door on her way out.

She scrubbed viciously at her eyes and forced tears to stand down. She couldn't remember feeling this much turmoil throughout her natural life which was surprising enough considering Tifa was on her third year of an otherwise drama filled teenage cycle. Angst was a given during those essential two years as sort of a complimentary welcome to the rest of your life fruitcake. Suffering was the appetizer on the teenage menu of life yet this particular teen seemed to just steer clear of the infamous diner all together. She didn't like feeling this way. These emotions made her experience emotional pain that saturated her insides to the point where it seeped through to her physical self. The vulnerability itself was enough to drive her crazy.

"When did bum make it onto your top ten list of things you strived to become before you died?"

Tifa paid no mind to the much older man leering down at her and closed her eyes before turning her head slightly over to the side in proof of her disinterest. She didn't possess the normal flare she usually had when sparring with this menace so she ignored him, silently praying he would grasp her lack of enthusiasm and walk away. There was no such luck.

Reno took a drag from his cigarette, tossed his jacket on the floor, and stole a seat next to the ailing brunette. Digging in his pockets, he pulled out a small box and curtly asked, "You want a smoke?"

"Depends. What did you lace them with?"

"Do you think if these had more than just tobacco and nicotine I would actually give you one of them for free? You want a smoke or not?"

She opened her eyes and looked over at the impatient red head with a single cigarette in his two finger grip. Her hand reached over and took the smoke away from his care and placed it in her mouth. Like magic, a lighter appeared in his cupped hands and blazed the thin stick to life. The flame activated all the harmful chemicals which, ironically, were used in teaching children the dangers of smoking. It felt good, the smoke pillaging her body of nutrients and defiling healthy lungs of their vibrantly pink demeanor. She craved more and immediately took another drag before the previous smoke in its entirety left her body. The ache in Tifa's chest felt more natural now, the emotional pain being replaced by the damage inflicted from an actual object. In retrospect, this form of heaviness had a source that could be stopped. She enjoyed having her original control reinstated.

"You need a place to crash?" Reno asked, not bothering to look over at the teenager beside him. He continued to revel in the relaxation his cigarette provided and found it rather unnecessary to taint that pleasure glancing at the downer next to him.

"You don't want to know why I'm out here?"

"No."

The answer surprised Tifa but she prevented the sentiment from showing on her face. She never uttered anything to satisfy the man next to her in the past, there was no way she was going to start now all of a sudden.

"I don't need your help."

"Fine. Don't worry about being a burden. I'll make sure to come out here tomorrow morning and shovel your frozen carcass off the property."

Reno flicked the cigarette away, grabbed his jacket, and got up from the uncomfortable ground. He loathed the good Samaritan attitude he was displaying and it took a whole lot giving it the push necessary to put the title into action. The offer itself was good enough. This ungrateful girl didn't deserve begging to sugar coat an already sickly sweet proposition.

"What's the condition? Touching places parents around the world would feel shame discovering weren't so sacred anymore?"

"You've got nothing worth touching so get bent, kid. I'm giving you a place where psychoanalysis isn't a necessary requirement for attendance and your spitting shit to bust my balls? If you're expecting me to get down on my knees and beg you to come back with me, I think you'd better find a way to make cobblestone more than just back breaking. The offers on the table in plain English. Take it or leave it."

Tifa sat still for the longest time examining the expression on the hospitable individual's face with a quirked eyebrow. She really did need a place to stay and here was one offered with no questions asked. It seemed too good to be true which explained the feelings of his hesitation rummaging its way through her deductive reasoning skills. He seemed sincere and sleeping on a floor, carpeted or hardware alike, was far more tempting than spending the night on the uneven texture of cobblestone.

"Fine," she declared, getting up and dusting herself off with a few pats here and there, "but no funny stuff. I feel your hand anywhere other than on my own hand to shake; my foot will give you the vasectomy necessary to save your kids the trauma of knowing they were spawned instead of naturally conceived."

"Fair enough."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Yuffie," a voice bellowed loud enough to send the young slumbering figure out of bed and onto her knees. She shook her head, the merchandise illuminated by the peeking moonlight through the blinds blurred shady vision of half conscience eyes. Groaning, the preteen dropped her head on the bed and mumbled angry words of personal desecration. Her father was home and she would be lucky if the physical pain he inflicted on her didn't prevent her from going back to sleep.

Yuffie arose and stretched, using whatever outlet of distraction she could use to her advantage. She had even thought about hiding in her closet until he passed out but realized the outcome would be far worse than direct confrontation. The last time she had tried to avoid him for a week, she wound up in the hospital with a concussion and broken arm. It was time to face the piper, knowing it would be better this way.

"Coming!"

Practically gliding towards her closet, the pixie snatched her robe into twitching hands and wrapped its fuzzy material against her skin. She never liked the color pink but the orgasmic comfort the item provided for its wearer far outweighed the nauseating eye sore of a color. The robe had been a birthday gift from her aunt, the one woman who currently knew of her mother's whereabouts. The one woman who had the power to end the consistent nightmare but refused to utter a single word. Yuffie had chosen to replace her aunt as a person with the robe. The article of clothing had provided her with far more comfort than the old hag ever did anyway.

"I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid. I'm strong," Yuffie repeated before slowly placing her hand on the door knob. There she was, feeling the cold sensations of the knob but lacking the courage to twist it. Fear, more powerful than ever, caused the young girl to perspire and lick desert dry lips out of habit. She almost cried out in frustration for the futility of the moment.

"Yuffie, get down here before I go up there and make you come down!"

Sighing, she used her free hand to wipe away stray tears of anxiety while twisting the source of her terror and entering into confrontation with her own beast of burden. Removing her hand from her face, Yuffie blinked at the glimpse of crimson. Dreams. Being woken for many nights, she almost lost a natural grasp of consciousness. Reality. Dreams. Nightmares. They were all the same to her. The sweetness was gone from her dreams as was the relief of waking up from a nightmare. No relief, no sweet delights, just bitterness. A bitterness only reality could bestow.

"What's up, dad?"

Her voice shook as an equally uneasy hand ran through disheveled hair, before her onyx eyes stood the result of a long lingering problem. The huffs of air she inhaled penetrated her lungs sharply and the surroundings revealed surreal hallucinations. Their confrontations never felt real. Father and daughter exchanging verbal and physical blows of anger just never seemed right in Yuffie's mind. Half the time she expected to awake in a cold pile of sweat with nothing to haunt her but a mere twisted image of an unsettled imagination. Reality, a true enthusiast of bittersweet moments, revealed something much less comforting.

"Didn't I tell you to clean up this house?" Godo asked, stumbling around but still trying to play cool. His face looked puffier than usual and the red tint of it far outshone any color on his natural palate. A swaying body lacked the support of overzealous feet as words incoherently slurred. The young Kisaragi child could barely understand what her father said and almost smiled at his stupidity.

"I did clean up," Yuffie declared, the pulse in her wrists pulsating to the point of rupture, "It's not my fault you can't control yourself when you drink."

All metaphysical forces inhabiting the room had just succumbed to an ungratifying death. Godo's mouth remained opened but seemed to reject the intake of oxygen. Yuffie told herself to run. Nothing good had ever come from silence but instead, like a soldier, she remained ready to take down the dictator. David defeated Goliath with a sling shot, bringing down the giant along with his murderous, fascist, slave laboring intentions. Yuffie would do the same.

A chuckle escaped from warm, chapped lips.

"I always blamed myself for your mother leaving," Godo whispered, continuing to amuse himself with soft laughter, "I was wrong. Having such an ungrateful, useless, mistake of a daughter must have sent her running. Your mother left because she couldn't bear to look at you anymore. Looking at you was a reminder of how she gave birth to a disappointment."

Small fists balled up in fury as an equally small body convulsed out of nauseous apprehension. Her stomach entwined into a knot to keep from collapsing into itself. Tears prickled at widened retinas and she could almost feel her heart pump enough blood to flood an entire body. There had always been the guilt residing deep inside which convinced Yuffie that her mother had left because she wasn't the daughter the woman had always dreamed of. A guilt which cursed her for looking the way she did, talking like she did, not being smart enough, not being social enough, and lacking the people of Wutai's respect. A guilt of being the daughter which contradicted the dream every parent had of the perfect offspring.

It was why she left.

It was why she never came back when she promised she would.

"No," Yuffie hissed angrily, nails digging into closed palms and adrenaline coursing through unresponsive veins, "Mom left because you were a controlling, manipulative drunk! Mom left because she couldn't depend on or trust you! If I'm a disappointment, than you're a fucking abomination."

Her face snapped to the side after the rock solid punch swung across a tender cheek. The room spun and Yuffie backed up while shaking her head to clear the haze. The element of surprise had not worked to Godo's advantage, which made the hit slightly more bearable. Blood trickled down the side of her mouth and a swollen cheekbone was slowly losing its credibility of being a definitive part of her face. She needed to sit down but knew unconsciousness would come before relaxation.

"You bitch! I feed you, clothe you, and shelter you! Ungrateful rat," Godo screamed after roughly pushing his only child on the ground. He placed his body over her much smaller one, pinning her down, and proceeded to smack and even pinch her, "I wish you were never born! You made your mother leave and you turned me into a monster! You're nothing but an omen!"

Yuffie spat blood and saliva into her old man's face with a menacing laugh. Slowly, she felt her sanity leaving as well as her full awareness of the situation at hand. Another fist continued to leave a trail of bruises and extreme bludgeoning. The young girl could no longer focus; her head throbbed while a withering body felt nothing more than the horrid stinging sensations of pain. Gazing upon this unholy display of fatherly affection, death had no longer become a last resort but a beautiful release.

"I hate you," she screamed in tears after hearing a small crack inflicted by a rough punch to an otherwise frail ribcage. Her vocal chords pronunciated themselves into a shriek which threw the aggravator off and caused him to look down at the damage his own two hands have caused. Yuffie could see a flash of disgust flash across the older man's eyes for a mere second before the malice returned.

"You deserve this," Godo whispered, more so to justify his own brutality, as he punched his daughter's shoulder, "You need to learn to respect me. You made your mother leave. You made me start drinking. We're in hell because of you."

"Stop," Yuffie shouted, tears of venom and anguish slipping out of her eyes and onto her father's hands. She shivered from the coldness of the man's words and actions while shutting her eyes with quivering lids. A heavy atmosphere nearly collapsed under pressure of the unbearable tension. The two individuals remained silent, adding to the burden of discomfort.

"I need a drink."

Godo arose from his position and delusionally stumbled toward the door. She felt the release of weight off her body and nearly burst into a fresh array of tears. Relief and disappointment flooded her body as fantasies of death were replaced by the sudden realization of relapse. He would come back tomorrow, drunk, angry, and relay his fury upon her once again. This would never end. She would never be free but locked within an immobile cage with clipped wings. The dictator would not fall; only continue arising to power day after day with expectations of extracting his power on her. A slave, it was all she would ever be.

"Kill me," Yuffie exclaimed from the floor unable to move her temporarily crippled form. Tears were caught in the young girl's throat making her cough and choke on desperate words. She knew he would currently be at an unreasonable and incredibly vulnerable state. She also knew Godo Kisaragi was never one to sacrifice his pride and back down from a challenge. Now was the time to act and receive a freedom even dreams would not dare bestow.

Godo stopped and turned back to gaze upon the fallen body of his creation. He looked lost as the uncharacteristic vengeance that haunted his eyes became exiled from a tainted soul. The guilty man's hand gripped the doorknob and he was gone leaving behind a twisted heart. She cried and slammed her fist down on the ground. A slave, it was all she could ever be.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Click. Click.

He jumped up from the sweet whispered nothings of his subconscious and scratched a blonde head confused. Looking towards his window, the shadow of a small pebble painted a picture on ivory walls as another click resonated throughout his bedroom. A smile twisted slightly chapped lips erect before giving the man enough steam to get out of bed and rush towards the window. Disappointment overcame him for the figure he saw below did not belong to who he had expected.

The moonlight accentuated a flowing pink dress clad to the shapely figure of his longtime girlfriend. If it weren't for the preconceived notions of who he had imagined to be throwing the pebbles, Cloud's enthusiasm from the beauty radiating off the girl, who currently was vying for his attention, would be much more overwhelming. He smirked a greeting down at the wanderer and gestured for her to stay where she was. He shouldn't be so let down; Aeris showing up was actually very convenient to Cloud's current conundrum. It would allow him to get his feelings out in the open without the given opportunity of escape. She was standing here, waiting, and there was no back door.

She fixed her hair as best she could and straightened her dress in hopes of disguising her infidelity with a flawless appearance. Aeris bit her lower lip as a zealous heart beat savagely. She would tell him the truth tonight. Zack was her heart and soul's main priority at the moment and no other man, no matter how long and drawn out their history was, would stand in the way. Everything seemed to be going the way she had pictured, but Aeris never imagined it would be this hard.

"That's something you don't see everyday."

The small brunette turned to face the familiar voice and softly smiled, "What's that?"

Cloud stepped off his front porch and sashayed towards his awaiting guest, "A pretty girl like you wandering around in the middle of the night without some reinforcements."

The warm smiled remained on Aeris' glowing face as she felt strong arms envelop her into a restrictive embrace. Before the taunting man could lay a kiss upon her cheek, she gently elbowed him in the stomach and proclaimed, "Just because I'm little doesn't mean I can't handle myself."

Cloud smirked and pecked her on the cheek without fear of another elbow to the gut. She smelled sweet, like vanilla and cherry blossoms, and her skin was soft as though every inch of her body was enveloped with milk and honey. It was the little things about this girl he was going to miss. In addition to these supposed insignificant details, time had formed a bond. A bond that if broken would leave you lonely and sullen. A drug addiction with ninety-five percent chance of terrible withdrawal syndromes.

Time to kick the habit.

"I'm actually glad you came by," the blonde began, keeping his arms around Aeris and whispering in her ear, "Because we need to talk."

"About what?"

Cloud felt his girl break away from the close proximity and could only uncomfortably sigh as the action commenced. Scratching the back of his head, he allowed his eyes to be taken into probing green pools and almost hoped she would discover the deep, dark secret he had guiltily stashed away in his soul for years. Like a coward, he knew it would be easier than explaining the sordid details. Cloud's hand returned to the back of his head and scratched.

"About what, Cloud?" Aeris asked more forcefully this time, her mouth twisting downwards in dissatisfaction. Her eyes burned with a fiery passion that lacked the compassion usually found within the pixie's purified soul. It was almost as though she had known what her significant other was going to say but, to torture him, found it necessary to make him confirm her suspicions out loud.

"You know what this is about," Cloud sighed, reaching in his jeans pocket for a smoke, "Everything about us is wrong, Aeris. We barely talk and when we do talk it's about nonsense bullshit. We hardly see each other and when we do get the chance, you always have to mysteriously leave. I don't feel like a boyfriend, I feel like more like a last resort. We're just not working."

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

The worshiper of all things pink sneered and felt uncensored tears prickle her eyes without mercy. Turning her back in fear of what she would find in Cloud's eyes, Aeris closed her eyes and declared, "Aren't you forgetting to mention the girl next door? The girl you've been fantasizing about ever since the day you discovered you could get it up? The girl you only wished could have gotten to you before I did? Don't lie to me and tell me it's because we're not working. Tell me it's because of that stupid bitch, Tifa Lockheart!"

Cloud let out a loud withdrawn breath and closed his own eyes apprehensively. He felt himself easily being pushed up against a corner; the ticking time bomb of vulnerability being forced into his system and mere minutes away from exploding. She was right on the nose. They could fix things if both really wanted to, but the attraction he felt towards Tifa was undeniable and it could no longer be resisted. This was beginning to become a step process. First came the vulnerable approach, than doubt, and finally guilt.

Kick the habit. Find inner peace.

"We were great while it lasted and I really did love you. But can you really say to yourself that you truly loved me back?"

"Of course I loved you back! How can you even assume I didn't?" Aeris shouted after spinning around and revealing tears of embarrassment and unwanting, "Don't blame this on me, Cloud Strife! Don't you dare! You want this to end because you want someone else so don't go and make yourself feel better by saying you're ending this for a lack of love."

"You never loved me," Cloud exclaimed in anger, his face beginning to allow an unnatural shade of red to paint its surface, "You have no right to play the martyr because I've never felt more unwanted in my entire life than the time span this relationship endured. You never wanted me or loved me, so now that I think about it, I'm starting to realize I was just a statistic for your popularity poll! I wouldn't be surprised if you had someone else on the side...which comes to the lingering question, why are you here, Aeris? What drove you all of a sudden to my house because I know it wasn't just 'on the way during a midnight stroll through town!' So, what made you come here? What did you have to tell me that couldn't wait until morning?"

Aeris was speechless. The words she had wanted to say were caught in her throat and for a mere second, she could not speak nor breathe. She was being a hypocrite and had no real reason to loathe Cloud for his intentions to break up with her. Even if he had feelings for Tifa, he hadn't (as far as she knew) acted out his impulses like she herself had. Her own dour words had caused her to feel slightly embarrassed and even humbled. She exhaled and shook her head, simply stating, "You're right. I have no right to play the martyr because I know I haven't treated you the way a real girlfriend should. I'm sorry, Cloud. If breaking up is what you want than freedom is what you deserve for all the crap I put you through."

"Look," Cloud began, the spontaneous anger beginning to completely drain out of his system, "I really do care about you, more than you think. I do admit, I have some feelings for Tifa, I'm not gonna lie and say I don't, but that isn't the whole entirety in the reason I'm ending this relationship. I don't feel like we're on the same level and I know you feel the same way. For two people to be in a relationship but be on two separate areas is not good. Are you really surprised that it came to this?"

"Now that you put it that way, I guess not."

The anguishing weight lifted and revealed a man who experienced the rebirth of his mortality before entering the sphere of everlasting life. He had done it, the hardest thing he ever had to do, and now nothing could touch him. Flying, it was the only sensation he could use to describe this natural high. Kicking the habit had never been more rewarding yet at the same time so emotionally limiting.

Cloud reached out and grasped Aeris in one final embrace, mumbling in her ear, "I really did love you. I'm gonna miss you."

"I'm going to miss you too," she whispered, a tear falling out from between her eyelids before pushing back and rushing away from tension in need of untarnished oxygen. She jogged for a few minutes and, noticing the distance between herself the man who surprisingly turned the tables and broke her own heart in the process, halted and sobbed into the palm of her hands. This is what she had wanted, but the bitter taste of her own medicine must have been karma's punishment for her philandering ways. The anger burned as jealousy provided a fuel immediate hatred fed off of.

"You better watch your back, Lockheart...I'm going to teach you a lesson that'll make you think twice about touching what isn't yours."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

AN: Finally finished the chapter after a month on hiatus. Sorry for the wait, I needed to work on finals for the end of my semester so that put a damper on my writing capabilities. This chapter is a little short, to my standard, on character and story plot development but patience is a virtue. You'll be rewarded if you don't huff and puff. Also, I realized after re-reading this chapter and my other chapters that I made Aeris a little on the selfish, vindictive side but every character in the story is gonna have a flaw by the end. Yes, these characteristics are very OOC for the innocent flower girl but oh well, everybody needs to unleash their dark side every now and then. Stay tuned for the next chapter.