When Heart Rules Over Mind

His hope lost

Cloud sighed for the fifth time in the space of two minutes.

He blinked his swore eyes that had been previously transfixed on the scratty bit of newspaper in his hands, and shook his head clear.

"…I don't believe this…" He whispered in disbelief.

The clipping had been stuck to Tifa's fridge, by the sounds of it, around May, seen as it was an article about her birthday.

LOCKHEART CELEBRATIONS RUINED BY HERO'S DISSAPEARENCE

Tifa Lockheart was all set to celebrate her twenty third birthday this week, with the residents of the central town of Osuna here in Costa, all putting an input into the planning and preparation of the event. However, despite having spoken to the brunette barely two days Prior to her birthday event, she seemed over the moon about everything being, better than I could have ever hoped for", as she put it, on eve of her birthday, Tifa Lockheart could, and most definitely did hope for better than she got for her birthday present this year. Her lifelong friend, and national hero Cloud Strife has not been found by the media, nor been spotted by any member of the public for months, and on May 2nd at 8:00am, Reeve Mahoney, Editor of the popular Ancient Planet newspaper, announced to the world in a special television interview, that Cloud Strife was officially missing. There was a public out cry, as not only had Strife been missing from the public eye, he had not been seen by a single member of AVALANCHE, which was as good as to say he had been seen by nobody in the world since the defeat of Seph- iroth. The hardest person it hit of all, above every other soul on the planet was Tifa Lock-heart. Though nobody felt like celebrating the next night on 3rd May – Tifa's birthday, the event went on. But their no.1 guest never showed. Reports have come in since that the bro-ken hearted brunette has shut herself in her room in the famous Solana Mar bar she keeps here in Costa, and will see nobody. Barrett Wallace is the next to try, as the AVALANCHE crew are all already still down here from the celebration of Tifa's birthday, and so it is hoped once the leader's delayed arrival happens, we will have Lockheart back. Reeve has issued a public footnote, and asked for the public and media to be respectful during this time, and refrain from crowding the Solana Bar home of his close friend.

Cloud dropped the folded, cut out article onto the kitchen table in front of him and rubbed his temple, muttering curses to himself under his breath. The one thing staring him in the face was the picture that had caught his attention in the first place – an artists' impression of himself, with Tifa in his grasp. The article had been folded so none of the print was showing, just the picture, and that was what Tifa had stuck to her fridge. A false hope? Or more likely just a constant reminder of things she didn't want anymore, because of the pain of the memory.

Cloud kicked the table leg in frustration. "Dammit, why do I have to be such a – " then he paused. He couldn't think of a word adequate for the absolute screw up he'd become.

By now, Tifa was sure to have gotten used to the idea of life without him. She had to have done. She couldn't mope around feeling sorry for herself, no, not Tifa. She was better than that. Better than him.

If she'd have gotten up and left him…he shivered at the thought. Fact is, she hadn't gotten the chance if she had ever wanted to. He'd ran away to live like a hermit for nearly a year without any help from Tifa. But if she had got up and left, vanished, he would have never rested, never been sensible enough to. He'd have scoured the earth hopelessly for as long as it took, when Tifa would likely have been under his nose the whole time.

Bottom line was, she always had been just that. He was just too arrogant to admit it, and always too foolish to see it.

Eventually, he stood up, folded the article up, and placed it back on the table, turning to the lounge space where he headed briskly for his bag. Sitting down he roughly unzipped it and grabbed some clean clothes, dumping them onto the sofa.

Pulling the white t-shirt over his head that he'd slept in, he shoved it into his bag and did the same with his pants. "It's about time Tifa heard what I have to say…" He mumbled to himself, whilst pulling his pants off from around his ankle.

Minutes later the bathroom door shut hard, the latch was forced across to lock the door in a split second, and Cloud hid himself in the hot running water of Tifa's shower. He could smell her in here with him, the scents of the soap, the shampoo he used, and the shower gel, as he poured her all over him.

He felt like he was about to faint in the room, this strange place that had held Tifa here for so long. The hot temperature made his head light, the steam almost causing him to suffocate. Suddenly, he felt his hand strike out and hit the shower edge, searching for the door frantically. He couldn't breathe, the air going into his lungs was clouded and stained with her scent. He felt like he was not meant to be here, some criminal who had invaded her home while she'd gone out, taking advantage of everything she had.

It felt as if the room was treating him like the traitor he really was, punishing him.

His fingers frantically felt for the edge of the sliding glass door of the shower, his mouth spluttering as the water fell into it. Then his fingers hit home, and her pulled the door aside, his large form spilling out onto the cold floor.

He could still hear the running water behind him as he hit the ground, and quickly drank in the thin air of the steamy room.

He didn't belong here.

Some time later, Cloud had cleaned up the water from the bathroom floor, shut off the shower, put everything back in its rightful place, and packed his stuff together, hiding it at the side of the sofa out of view under the shadow of the right-side arm.

He made it appear like he'd never been there, the sofa untouched, the room bare of his belongings. He had put on black pants, and black tank top and a white long sleeved shirt over the top, held by one button in the middle of his chest, with the sleeves rolled up. After lacing his boots, he grabbed the article he had read earlier, and shoved it in his back pocket.

With one last look at the un-touched, un-tarnished room he walked out, locking the apartment with one of the keys on the ring Tifa had left him. Once outside, he locked up the back door and headed for the traditional side of town, to the café Tifa said she was at earlier.

It was time for Cloud to face the truth, to face Tifa, and to tell her the real reason he went missing all those months ago. As he walked down the sun kissed cobbled streets, he was aware of the gawping mouths of the people he passed. He was recognisable all right.

But he didn't care. He placed his hands in the front pockets of his pants and walked at a casual place, taking in the sights, sounds and smells of normal life again. It had been months since he'd seen any life like this, and even longer since he'd been allowed to enjoy it.

But all the while, his feet grew heavier as he neared Tifa. He was going to have to tell her the truth about him.

He was dying.

There it was. The raw truth that he didn't want to admit, not even to himself.

And he had to tell her that this time there was nothing she could do.

"We're here."

Dylon sat upright in attention and mild shock, placing the phone closer to his ear.

"We're in position, and we are on schedule."

Dylon smiled hearing Reno's voice at last. "I was hoping to hear from you. Will there be any difficulties getting into the building?"

Reno paused to look up at the building in question. "I shouldn't think so. After all…" His eyes fell on Reeve's form standing in the window of the old SHINRA building in Junon. "We're family." He stated with a sneer, his smirk growing wider when he clicked the phone off.

Tifa pulled on Miguel's arm. He turned and raised his eyebrows momentarily as if to ask 'what?'.

"Wait a sec, do you really think this is a good idea?"

"what? Talking to the girl over there? Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well erm…because you are expecting her to accept you as a..well a…"

"Male-whore? That's what you were thinking right?"

Tifa hesitated, then let go of his arm and nodded. "Yeah."

Miguel smiled. "Don't worry. She knows what I'm like. Plus, I need to apologise to her grandmother seen as you offended her earlier." He shook his head and tutted.

Tifa thumped him in the arm – to which he visibly suffered from because of the look of pain on his face. "I didn't offend her in the slightest. I think what I did is likely to be shamed by the un-godly things you're about to propose to her granddaughter."

Miguel blinked. "Maybe you're right…but then again, if I don't try, how will I know? Besides Sofy can always suck up to the old lady later for me if I screw up too badly."

With that, he marched towards the stall in front of them, which was part of the bustling open market in the town square. Tifa was casually following, choosing to discreetly position herself within earshot of the proceedings, at the next stall.

"Morning Ladies." Miguel said politely as he eyes the fruit stall of the two women. The eldest of the two looked round and spotted Tifa before leaning closer to speak to Miguel.

"Miguel, now what are you doing bringing a woman like 'er around town with you?" Tifa paused, her eyes widening. "She's a bad omen you know. Caused the man of 'ers to leave to the ends of the earth. Don't know how she did it, but she's strange, and she'll soon get her claws into you Miguel."

Tifa frowned and chanced a dark glance sideways at the woman, before turning her attention to the stall she was at, observing the open bags of fresh produce.

Miguel laughed emptily to humour the women, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced at Tifa, before turning back to the woman.

"Grandma!" the younger woman of the pair spoke up suddenly. She was obviously the one Miguel was after, Tifa judged as she glanced over. And who could blame him? She was the perfect embodiment of a young Costan woman. Long black silky hair tied in a loose band that was placed at the right side of her head, level with the nape of her neck so her hair cascaded over her right shoulder. She wore a white dress that fitted her delicate form perfectly, a thick orange strip of material around her middle with a small apron hanging down from it that was tied in a bow behind her back. The material of the skirt flowed slightly outwards, falling just above her sandaled feet.

Her face was simple, no make-up, but obviously no need for it, owing to the clear glow of her sun-kissed skin.

"Don't talk about Tifa Lockheart like that! She practically saved the world, well along with her friends she did. You should be thanking her, not insulting her!"

The old woman hesitated. "I know what you're saying my child, but girls like her, they may do extraordinary things, but deep down they are women who know they have the world at their feet and because they're young, they're sure to take advantage of it. So you be aware of that Marika, and don't you ever get like that."

Marika shook her head then looked down, wiping her hands on her apron.

Miguel was about to speak to the young woman when a sudden voice emerged from his left.

"Excuse me, but can I just enter this conversation for a second?!"

Miguel closed his eyes. "Oh no…" He mumbled, knowing what was to come.

Cloud walked out of the small shop he'd just bought Tifa's thank you gift from, the bell on the door ringing as he pushed it open. He rubbed the perspiration from his forehead and stepped out into the street again.

The sun was foreign to him, at this level of heat. It reminded him of coming here for the first time, when he had journeyed here with his friends.

As he moved, and stood at the side of the busy street, under the shade of a shop door overhang, he felt a pang of regret. He missed having his friends behind him, being on the road, journeying to new places with the constant hunger of their goal driving them on.

Now he just, well, existed.

There was no goal.

There were no friends anywhere in sight.

He'd even lost a friend he had held once, so close to his heart.

And yet, people carried on with their insignificant lives. These Costan parasites before him, just busying around with meaningless, pointless tasks. It angered him, yet all the while made him jealous of their way of life.

How he'd wished once, that he could have fit in with everybody's way of life.

When he had been a child.

But now he realised he was different, set apart. He almost craved the planet to be under threat, for an excuse to journey again, a time limit ticking away all the time, with nights of reflection under a starry blanket he could look to at a solemn sleepy campfire among the tents holding his sleeping friends.

But there was a clock ticking for him…

He had a task now, and that was to put everything right before he had to leave. Before the end for him finally arrived, he had his name, and his life to live up to. His friends were drifting, things always whispered but left unsaid needed voicing, and he had to gel the gaps between the ropes that still bonded his friends together, even after all this time.

He was the one to do it.

And he could think of no better person to help him make the most of life than Tifa. He looked into the brown paper bag he'd just acquired and smiled.

Blinking out of it's hold, was a small silver ring encrusted with a small ruby stone, square cut. He spotted it, thinking it would bring out the red tint in her eye colour, and also that it would be a token of acceptance of her new life that he wanted to say was better for her.

She had never been able to wear rings, not with her battle gloves. But now they were long gone, this was Cloud's way of encouraging her into living life fuller from now on.

He smiled before closing the ring box and delving it into his pocket, discarding the brown bag it came in, into a street bin as he walked towards the café.

The old woman suddenly looked flushed as Tifa came into view.

The younger woman folded her arms and looked from her grandma in disappointment, to Tifa in admiration.

Miguel scratched the back of his head in the awkward moment, and decided this girl was too young and innocent for his liking. He wasn't a monster, he never touched a girl who wasn't equally as willing as he was. And he could spot the all-talkers.

"Listen, I'm sorry that you think that way, but I can tell you that you couldn't be more wrong about me. I am not someone who has the whole world at my feet, in fact I don't have things even you have, like your family there. So before you point the finger, try taking into consideration that not all of us 'young women' have hidden agendas. Some of us just want the simple things in life, believe it or not."

Miguel blinked in surprise, and the small area around them was silent. Looking around him, he decided to break the silence.

"Erm…ok then, well thanks for clearing that up Tifa. Now, let's get you back to a quiet place where you can't cause a scene ok?" With that, he took Tifa by her shoulders and started to lead her off, to which she protested.

"Don't Miguel, just leave me alone ok?" She said in a small voice, shrugging him off lightly, with minimal effort.

Miguel stood still and watched her walk off into the street, with a sorry expression on his face.

Despite Cloud coming back, Tifa was far from ok. The past belonging to a girl like her who lived for the whole world instead of just for herself, for years must have been hit hard. It was just overlooked by the public to ease their conscience, that people like Tifa suffered saving them. They just said thank you and pretended that was good enough.

Shaking his head in disgust at the thought, he started after her at a short run.

"Tifa wait!"

She closed her eyes in thought and kept on walking.

Miguel caught up with her and moved in front of her, stopping her by placing his hands gently on her shoulders. She stood still and looked at him.

Miguel pinched her chin with his forefinger and thumb. "Hey there kid." He said in a low voice, not in any way patronising like his usual cheery voice sounded. "Whatever's bothering you about your past, don't let it get to you too much. We've all got a past, and none of us are proud of it completely. There's always some patchy areas, but we can't get rid of them anymore. We just have to accept them to move on from them." He brushed her cheek with his fingers. "And you've done a better job so far than anyone on this rock could have done. I don't know how you did it, but you have something in you Tifa, and it's not going to let you look like this for too long. So what do you say hmm? Just a little further to go now. You'll do it. I know you will."

The tone of his voice made Tifa feel comfortable and less prone to block him out. Her tense stance, collapsed when she looked at him, his eyes fixed on her with a small hint of a smile. The way he just said the right thing, effortlessly was such a breath of fresh air. No-one had ever had the role of consoling Tifa. In her team, and for her whole life after her mother left her, she'd had to help herself in order to help everyone else back up when they fell. But her emotional strength was wearing thing over the years, and was on the brink of collapse.

Of all the people to see it, Miguel was the one in the end. Standing there just saying what he did made her want to cry, laugh, sing, run, anything and everything. She had a release now. Another set of shoulders to bear her weight, that were sturdy enough to not need her help, like everyone else's had been.

Her innocent eyes locked on him and in that second, she wanted to take advantage of this new help, grab hold of it before he too disappeared along with her hope.

Without warning, she fell into his arms, wrapping her hands around his chest, hands lightly grappling the material of his shirt until she was still, her head nestled onto his chest with her eyes closed.

Instead of showing signs of surprise, Miguel seemed as if he expected her to express herself, and he immediately shielded her frail form, by surrounding her with his arms. He moved his right hand and planted on her hair, stroking it rhythmically, as he rested his cheek on her head.

They stood in this form for a few stolen silent moments, shielded from the street, as if muted from any outside sound.

Miguel brushed his lips lightly on her hair for a second before resting his cheek on her head once more, pulling her closer into him. He felt her hands open up, and lay on the small of his back and closed his eyes, contented.

He wanted to hold onto her for the rest of his life, ignoring the reality that in mere moments, she would be gone again. Back to him. It was painful to watch someone you cared for move on so quickly an so suddenly, that it had ripped the air from his lungs.

Though she never had moved on from Cloud in the first place. Miguel reminded himself.

He felt like he was stealing her, he knew it. But he didn't care. He wanted her more than anyone knew, or would know. Behind the shutter of his arrogant front, he craved the feeling that Tifa had inside for another man, who was in every way not even worth competing against.

Cloud Strife: The saviour of the world. The man who looked better than everyone else, was stronger than everyone else, beat every other man hands down, in women's hearts. The way women looked at him when he appeared on the television, in the news, on billboards – they were almost laughable. Yet they made every man like Miguel jealous to the bone.

Yet Miguel hated him the most. See, Miguel had a slice of what Cloud had, and he wanted it more than anything else.

He wanted Tifa. He wanted her more than Cloud ever could, in his mind. If Miguel had seen the way Tifa was about Cloud, towards him, he would have scooped her up and kept her years ago. Not put her through extensive agony Cloud had done.

Miguel just wanted to keep her.

Just her.

Sod the other women he thought, he didn't care.

He'd give them up, everything up.

For her…

But she was stolen, and only for these few moments that were going to end as soon as she parted from him; any second now.

But before that time ended, it was already too late.

Because the warrior had spotted them, his eyes burning when he saw how easily Tifa seemed to willingly go to this stranger, and stay in his grasp, letting him hold her that closely, kiss her hair, be with her.

He scooped the ring box from his pocket, and looked from it, back to the couple, the hot sting in his eyes unbearable.

He was too late.

With his carefully built up confidence shattered in that single moment, he thrust the box into the hands of the nearest woman harshly as he passed, slicing through the busy streets.

Dylon sniggered from his chair, as he watched the amusing scene unfold. He sat back in his chair, after nodding the waitress away with her bill plate paid, a tip of gratitude on the side.

"Tut tut. Oh dear Cloud, what will you do now?"

he said out of bitter pleasure. He loved the way these people could so easily screw up of their own accord. He almost felt as if he should call of his plans, and let them harm themselves.

Almost that is.

He had too much to get out of this. And he would not pass the chance up to get back at Cloud Strife.

This new incident could easily be played upon. And Dylon would enjoy every moment twisting the knife in these two's emotional mess. He just needed to give it a little push, and it was all over.

The greatest love story of the century, shattered permanently, by his hand.

He couldn't get over his luck.

Author's Notes

This one took some churning out. I don't want everyone to gasp and go 'Tifa's gone for Miguel!' Because it's more complicated than that, I didn't want this chapter to seem that way, that's why it took so long. I hope you guys like it.

Can't wait to hear your reviews1 please review! And if you're not a writer of , leave an email address so I can contact you, with feedback, likely saying thanks.

Thanks!

Xx Jessie xX