vi. theme #6 "the sphinx's riddle"
a.
"Let me go."
"I won't let you drown."
"Let me carry this alone."
"I won't let you bury yourself beneath the weight."
"I can't share it with you."
"Share it with me."
"I'll hurt you."
"The memories you bear will hurt you, not me."
"You don't know what it is you're asking of me."
"It is you I'm asking, nothing more. And you, I know."
"I can't give it to you."
"You are free to give yourself to anyone who so desires."
"You don't know who, or what, I am."
"I know enough to protect you."
"I can't protect you."
"You have, and you will."
"I can't save anyone."
"Your past is lived. It is your present and your future you can save."
"I can't save anyone."
"You've already saved me. Let me save you now in return."
b.
"What'd he say, then?" Reno asks her as she pours him another glass of the green liquor he prefers. The bar is empty and Tifa is already closing up, but has found herself talking to this arrogant, silly man with red hair and identical scars on his face (done intentionally, she snorts, and wipes clean another glass).
"That's a secret." She tries to smile and fails, her brown hair obscuring her face from Reno.
"Oh-h? Playing hard to get?" Reno drinks for her health and bangs the glass noisily on the counter.
"Indeed," Tifa murmurs and a ghost of a smile touches her facade. The subject is uncomfortable and she does not know which bothers her more: his eyes that are gleaming brighter by the minute in the foggy light of the pub, or the way he sneaks up on her from behind.
Company is not something she has missed. No, she has friends aplenty, plus work and training to keep her busy, to ensure she has as little time as possible to spend thinking of him.
If, then, company is not something she has missed, she wonders, why does she not do anything at all as Reno places his fingers under her chin, making her look at him, and moves his hand to the nape of her neck, pulling her down into a hard kiss. His lips are cold but soft and his stubble teases her skin, and she can not decide whether she likes it or not. When his tongue crushes against hers, she tastes the alcohol in his mouth and pulls away – even here, even now, she needs to do these things seriously.
But Reno does not stop. He looks at her and the message is clear: you need to get laid.
Tifa almost laughs at the stupidity of the statement but does not remove his hands from where they are grasping the front of her shirt.
She does nothing at all and after a moment, Reno pulls her down to him again touching the corner of her mouth with his lips. When she still does not respond, he trails lower and the alcohol makes him sloppy, but that is perhaps why Tifa likes it. She suddenly gasps for air as he bites her skin, in a way that is so far from the man she is not supposed to be thinking about.
In a second, Reno lets go and rounds the counter that is standing between them. His unsteady feet find their place on the floor as he grabs her into another ferocious kiss. Drowning her memories, he understands that Cloud's darkness is too much for her to bear and that she needs some light, too.
Tifa says nothing. She is not thinking of hands that were gentler and warier than Reno's, of lips that were warm and soft and sorrowful, respecting, if hating, every single one of her flaws except those taken on his behalf. She is not thinking of how he would have never taken her on the counter of the Seventh Heaven, would never have done anything unless she made the initiative.
Her breath comes in ragged gasps as Reno slips a hand under her shirt, sliding his fingers on her stomach, up to her chest, roughly kneading her breast. She inhales sharply as he removes her shirt and then his own, pressing their bodies together. Tifa can not bring herself to not sink her nails into his back and Reno lets out a slow breath he does not know he has been holding.
Maybe, in the morning, she will think this was a bad idea. But now, it is enough to enjoy whatever it is he is doing with his fingers, to wrap her legs around his waist and pull him closer, closer than anyone has been in a long time.
Now, she does not feel vulnerable or weak. She feels that she is somewhere, though maybe not in the place she belongs to, but this shore is enough to save her from drowning.