Tifa can't take her eyes off the clock.

She's been staring at it since she came home from the studio and that's two hours ago.

She hasn't been able to stop scratching her right arm. If she's not scratching her arm, she's gnawing her nails until they're all dented by her teeth marks.

Nervous habits, honed by years of crippling anxiety.

She takes her eyes off from the clock only to glance at the entrance door, expecting Cloud to walk in anytime soon. Except he doesn't. He's awfully fucking late tonight of all nights.

It's 8pm when she finally hears a key inserted into the doorknob, followed by footsteps and the usual brrrrrrr sound Cloud makes when he's trembling cold.

"It's freezing in here. Did you forget to turn on the heaters, Tifa?"

Tifa hasn't realized that she's been sitting in the living room in total darkness until he switches the lights on and gets the fright of his life when he finds her there. "Jeez Tifa. What are you doing in the dark?"

"You're late."

"Asshole clients," he deadpans, drifting into the kitchen. She hears him rummaging through the refrigerator before reappearing with a bottle of Honey Bee beer.

She's training her eyes on him as he starts sipping.

"Why're you looking at me like that?"

"Zack's photography exhibition. What were you doing, Cloud?"

Cloud clicks his tongue. "Not this again."

"I met Aerith."

"Aerith? Zack's girl?"

"She said that I should ask you what you did that night."

He scoffs, shaking his head. "Don't listen to her."

"If it's nothing bad, then why are you not telling me anything, Cloud?"

She's sick of him trying to make light of this thing while it messes with her head.

"What are you hiding, Cloud?"

He stops drinking and seems to mull over whether to open his mouth or not.

And he does. "Fine. I was modelling for Zack's new collection."

Tifa frowns as she recalls what Zack's photography is all about. "With your dick out?"

"Yes, Tifa… with my dick out," he says, rather dismissively for someone who's usually reserved and painfully shy.

"But why? I didn't think being his assistant includes being a model for him too."

"It doesn't. The model wasn't available… so I had to fill in the role."

His explanation makes… zero sense but she doesn't find the whole arrangement weird. She's fully aware that Zack's a professional and he's simply doing his job. What she does find weird is Cloud's need to hide it from her, especially since he himself isn't bothered about doing it.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Thought you would be uncomfortable with the idea."

Well, considering that you did it anyway without telling me, I don't think that how I feel matters here… is what she thinks, but doesn't say out loud.

"You know, if you've told me about it, I would have been more than glad to join you," she says, smiling suggestively.

She really does want to be part of the photographs. Something about those photographs gives her the impression that taking part in them would mean she and Cloud are solid. And she likes feeling solid with Cloud, even if they are anything but.

"But he only needed me."

And just like that, Cloud crushes her flights of fancy. The look on her face must have changed but he's sipping his drink again, showing no signs of awareness that he's hurt her.

She backs away. "Okay, if you say so…"

"I'm ordering pizza," she hears him say as she starts making her way to their bedroom.

"Not hungry!"

Cetra Gallery, Sister Ray Avenue, Sector 5, Midgar City

Tifa looks up from the small note of address that Aerith had jotted down in her order form.

In front of her stands a building of modest size, structured like a giant conch shell. The signboard above the entrance doors spells out the building's name: Cetra Gallery. In a street lined with boring and soulless grey buildings, this building stands out less like an eyesore and more like a single succulent fruit hanging from a dying tree.

She hugs her tote bag closer to her frame, then walks straight in.

"Good morning! How may I help you?" a receptionist greets as soon as she reaches the inquiry desk.

"I'm here to see… Miss Aerith Gainsborough."

"Do you have an appointment with Miss Gainsborough?"

"I have… an item to deliver to her."

The receptionist nods. "Please wait at the gallery hall. I'll call Miss Gainsborough for you."

White walls. White floors. Stepping into the gallery feels like stepping into a science lab that you always see in dystopian sci-fi movies.

But one look at the art displays, and Tifa is sure that the interior design choices are deliberate. When you're in here, you're not supposed to be thinking about the colour of the walls or the floors. The impasto paintings full of vibrant colours are there to suck you into an immersive art experience.

Tifa's at the seventh painting when Aerith appears, dressed to the nines in a white Grecian neck top, pink ombre skirt, and brown ankle boots. Her wavy brown tresses fall neatly around her in a waterfall braid.

She looks different than the last two times when they met… but stunning, nonetheless.

"My vase?" she asks, approaching.

Tifa withdraws the ceramic pitcher vase she just finished crafting last night from her tote bag and hands it to Aerith.

"Beautiful!" Aerith beams, turning the vase around in her hands as she inspects it. "This will be great for my tulips."

As Aerith disappears somewhere to put the vase away, Tifa resumes her viewing of the gallery.

She stills at the twelfth painting. Unlike the others, this painting is dark in colours and lesser in details. There's nothing to see except for what appears to be a large hole on the ground.

"Don't look too hard. Or it'll swallow you."

Aerith returns, arms linked against her chest as she peers at the same painting.

"Your paintings… they are beautiful," Tifa praises. "This one though… reminds me of something."

"The painting you have in your studio?"

Tifa lifts her eyebrows. "Are you acquainted with Sephiroth?"

"Moooore than acquainted."

Aerith giggles at her questioning look. "Ex-boyfriend. And we were apprentices to Hojo."

"The Hojo?"

There's no one in Midgar – or even the world, who doesn't know who Hojo is. The man is one of the very few who have uplifted Midgar's art scene to greater heights. People from inside and outside Midgar would flock to his exhibitions, hiking up prices of the tickets and making people sell their kidneys to secure them.

"Yes, the Hojo," Aerith reiterates, matter-of-factly.

They're staring back at the twelfth painting and Tifa can't help but think out loud, "What is it?"

"The hole?"

"Is it a crater on the moon…?"

"No, it's not," she can hear Aerith smiling. "Have you heard of the Northern Crater?"

"Oh. That's somewhere on the northern continent, where the meteorite fell some… I don't know, one thousand years ago? I'm not good with history."

"Right. It's also close to my… birthplace." Aerith runs a hand through her hair, growing somewhat fidgety. "Buuut let's not talk about that."

She turns, searching through Aerith's face… only for her eyes to land on the other woman's pink supple lips.

Perhaps, it's their close proximity. Or is it the newfound feeling of ease that she feels around Aerith? The kind of ease where she could pour milk first then cereal into a bowl, or eat the tomato and celery in a burger but not the meat and Aerith would not judge her.

Who knows what the factors are but… those lips look extra enticing.

Aerith turns and her brain isn't fast enough to process what's happening when the pretty woman leans in and kisses her.

She can smell Aerith's jasmine and honeysuckle perfume more closely, and feel the tenderness of her lips lapping hers. It's subdued. It's compassionate. It makes her chest swell.

She closes her eyes, and let their kiss haze her mind.

When it's over, she hears Aerith sigh. "I've always wanted to do that." Then she winks. "The boys don't need to know."

Tifa blushes.

It's a kiss. It's harmless. Aerith's right. She feels slightly ashamed for agreeing but… Aerith's right. No one else needs to know. Especially not the boys.

Aerith moves away, roaming to the fifteenth painting. "Speaking of the boys… have you asked Cloud?"

Her mood sours in a flick of a second.

She shuts her eyes, already feeling a headache creeping in as she remembers her talk with Cloud. "Yes, I did."

"And?"

"Nothing serious happened. He said he's just modelling for Zack."

"Is that all he said?" Aerith pries, obviously expecting something more out of her. "Nothing else?"

"Nothing else."

"If that's all that he wants to tell you, then…" Aerith's smile… oh hell, she knows more than Cloud lets on.

"What do you mean-"

"I'm not going to apologize for being a bitch about it though," Aerith insists.

It's a hint. Something happened.

But Tifa can almost hear her say: You're not going to find your answers from me.

Fuck it.

Her head's hurting.

She doesn't want to give more headspace to this stupid secretive mess.