The call never came.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into a month.

And there are still no calls, or even text messages from Aerith.

Tifa knows that at least, on surface level, she's fine. Cloud's going to work like every other day and there hasn't been any news about something happening to her or her boyfriend.

That should be good news, right?

But no.

It's making Tifa agitated.

The list of things she finds annoying grows as days and weeks fly.

Her relationship with Cloud? An iceberg ready to crack under all the heat of her dissatisfaction, foul mood swings, and rage.

It's Sunday evening and Cloud coming home past 11pm, smelling heavily of booze is enough to grate her nerves.

He has no clue though, typical Cloud. He waltzes into the living room, all happy as he speaks of his night out escapades.

She tunes out to most of what he's saying but several sentences do slip into her ears and sit in her brain, sizzling it.

And it all has to do with one asshole of a guy.

"Zack's like 'hey, wanna break into one of their showrooms?' and the next thing you know, we're in Sector 0, kicking the doors and stealing their motorbikes and speeding off the highway to Sector 3."

She's already glaring at Cloud but he's giggling like an idiot and just. won't. shut. up.

"Like this guy is so out of control. I mean… who comes up with this whole crazy-"

That's it. She's going full on bitch mode now. She's going to have to open her mouth before she's forced to listen to more of this idiot of a boyfriend spasming about the asshole.

"Why are you still hanging around Zack?"

The stupid smile on his face falls away pretty quickly. "What do you mean why? I still work with him, babe."

"And? There's literally no need for you to hang around him outside working hours. Why? Did he put a gun to your head?"

Cloud breathes out in that yoga breathing technique kind of way and rolls his eyes. She can tell that he's not planning to say more.

He's generally not a confrontational person… which is frustrating when all she wants is to fight, fight and fight.

She wants someone to understand that she's angry.

"I'm going to bed," he says.

He leans in to give her a kiss but she moves her head away, avoiding it altogether.

Oh. That really pushed his buttons.

"What the FUCK is wrong with you, Tifa?" he screams, giving no shit to the fact that it's almost midnight and people living next door are probably already asleep. "You've been acting like a bitch this past whole month! What have I done wrong to you?"

"What have you done wrong to me? Oh a lot of things, Cloud! You would have known if you actually cared!"

"Is this about us not fucking? Is this what this is all about?"

"It's not just that. It's a lot of things!"

"Then tell me what those things are, Tifa! Say them to my face! I'll take them over having to deal with you acting like a bitch all day every goddamn day!"

GOD. He's so dumb, so stupid, so obtuse, a massive fucking IDIOT. Why does she have to explain to him? It's not her fucking job!

How self-centred can he be not to realize the huge ass gap in emotional connectivity between them? It's literally a blinding spotlight in this dark dingy apartment.

But she's not going to talk about that.

"Why are we even talking about this?" she grumbles.

He scoffs. "You don't even want to talk about it."

Fine. She'll talk about one of their main issues.

"Why are you still hanging out with Zack, even after I told you many fucking times that I don't like you around him, and him around you?"

"I told you. We're still working together. I work for him. I can't just cut him off like that," he says, snapping his fingers.

"And I'm saying you have to cut him off! Not professionally – no. But he doesn't have to be anywhere in your personal life!"

He frowns and narrows his eyes. "Why are you hell-bent on this? Does this have to do with Aerith? Did she put you up to this?"

Her jaw drops on auto.

Is she the only person that's rational enough to see no worth in keeping that asshole around in this dear life?

"Have you not seen the way he treats Aerith?" she asks, almost choking it out of her throat.

"But that's none of our business, Tifa."

For the love of Minerva… she can't believe what she just heard. Her eyes shoot wide open like those expanding round fish balls in hot oil.

"What the fuck, Cloud…"

He raises his palms up, looking resigned like he's the one being bullied by her, the bad guy. "Okay, you know what, I'm out. I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'm going to bed – for real, this time."

She shakes her head, smiling scornfully. "Great, just walk away, like you always do when we're…"

He's out of sight and she hears their bedroom door slam shut.

"…still having A FUCKING CONVERSATION."

It's 3pm on a Thursday afternoon and Tifa's taking her usual 15-minutes of tea break.

She's inspecting an art exhibition ticket mailed to her studio that morning.

Experience the unique collaboration between ground-breaking artists, Sephiroth and Aerith Gainsborough in this exhibition about nature's interactions with extra-terrestrial entities, which aims to explore the meaning and purpose of humanity, it says.

There are only two people she can think of – with names plainly mentioned on the ticket – that would have sent the piece of valuable paper to her.

She checks her phone and sees that there are new text messages that she needs to read.

Usual barrage of random texts from the group chat with her tight crew (a.k.a. Jessie, Biggs and Wedge, the trio who've been her pals since junior high).

Then, there are also texts from Sephiroth.

So it must be him.

Angel: Got ur ticket? :)

She names him 'Angel', because he's angel personified.

A pretentiously enigmatic person to others but an angel who helped her get through the roughest time of her life with his art.

She snaps a photo of the ticket and sends it to him.

After three sips of her tea, her phone lights up.

Angel: Aerith tells me u guys are friends. If so, u'll need to come and see it. Promise it won't disappoint

She's about to type her response… but stops.

Angel is typing…

Angel: U'll love it

You: Ok. Will come over tmrw! xx

A day ago, Tifa didn't think that she would be standing in front of a painting, on the verge of tears, at 10am of a Friday morning.

But now she is.

In front of her is a huge painting that stretches across the entire wall.

A silver-haired woman with grey skin and exposed brain, most likely an extra-terrestrial entity. In her arms is the earth that's also attached to her umbilical cord. Twinkling rivers of green flow around her like she's drowning in the Milky Way.

Dark shades of colours. Intense light shadows.

On the canvas frame, a small plate titles the image as 'Mother Earth'.

At the bottom left of the painting, Sephiroth's signature is etched in white.

"She has appeared in my dreams quite a number of times lately that I just have to paint her."

Sephiroth arrives by her side, with his long silver hair tied in a low ponytail and hip pair of square glasses sitting above the bridge of his nose.

"She's beautiful," Tifa mumbles.

"Isn't she?" he renews her thought. "Reminds me of her. Doesn't she remind you of yours?"

They look at one another.

Mothers who've long abandoned you, but who you are still tethered to.

"Well! Seems like you two are already bonding over that painting."

Tifa turns to find Aerith standing a few feet away, in a soft pink sweetheart neckline dress.

"Can't blame you though. It speaks to me too."

She wanders to the other paintings on display. "Hey Seph, why didn't you tell me that you're friends with Tifa?"

Sephiroth grins. "Why should I? You're a competition. I'm not going to give her over to you."

Aerith pouts. "How petty!"

He chuckles.

"I would love to have both of your artworks at my place," Tifa interrupts.

She's being genuine about it. Sephiroth and Aerith's artworks are like night and day. One tends to draw more subdued and melancholic manner of masterpieces. The other likes vibrancy and joy. But both are full of drama and passion.

And there's nothing more in life that can fill the hollowness that she feels sometimes inside her than drama and passion in art.

Aerith smiles. "Really? I would be happy to paint for you."

She returns the smile. "Looking forward to it."

Sephiroth checks his rose gold wristwatch and takes a peek at the parking lot outside the gallery.

There's a Highwind 400S black sedan parked in one of the white boxes. The owner is leaning his back against the bumper, lighting a cigarette. His slick black hair frames the sharp features of his face.

Tifa knows exactly who he is: Angeal Hewley, the chief executive of tech giant Hewley Ltd. Also known as the other half of Sephiroth's on and off 10-year love affair.

"You slut!" Aerith whispers loudly. "You're still with him?"

Sephiroth has that vulpine grin that he always does when he flirts, or talks about someone in a certain way. "Of course. He's got a good cock."

He talks as if it's a one night stand gone too far. But Tifa can tell, since a long time ago, that it's something more.

"Cissnei haven't caught you yet?"

Cissnei a.k.a. Angeal's redhead wife. Too demure for her own good, at least that's the impression Tifa got from her when they first met (Sephiroth had the twisted idea of inviting both her and Angeal on his 27th birthday).

"Pretty sure she knows. But Genesis keeps her busy." He smiles amusedly, "Heard she's a demon in bed. Genesis won't shut up about her giving him good heads."

Tifa's not one to judge but she does often wonder why anyone would choose to marry but ends up having affairs on the side with no remorse. Guess that's the price people have to pay to uphold the image of a happy suburban nuclear family, especially people higher up the ladder.

Her own family suffered its consequences in the same way.

"Anyway, I'll see you girls next time."

Sephiroth leaves.

Now she's alone with Aerith.

It's awkward but she has to get to the bottom of what's going on between them.

"I was… expecting the call."

"Sorry… I kind of forgot about it."

Okay. Not going to lie. That hurts.

How could Aerith forget?

It's the only thing that has plagued her mind since that night she left Aerith's apartment.

"But, see! I'm okay!" Aerith beams, arms wide open, hips swaying from left to right.

She's not taking any of this seriously…

"I think… I'll head home now," Tifa says.

She's had enough.

"Wait, Tifa. Please." Aerith grabs her hand fast enough to stop her.

Aerith's easygoingness is all but gone. She's faltering as she speaks, "I'm sorry, I-"

Without hesitation, Tifa pulls her into a kiss.

Soft lumps of flesh puckering and clashing onto one another, gently but urgently. Eager exchange of spittle as their tongues twist and roll around each other. Their breaths come out in a series of hot heavy heaves, mingling in the air and wafting onto their faces. Their hands and arms circle the lines and curves of their lean outlines.

Her heart is just a mass of boiling water, ready to burst.

The kiss is taking Tifa to a whole new level of sensory overload.

It ends, but she doesn't want to move her forehead away from Aerith's.

"I've missed you," Aerith whispers.

She hears the ache in her voice.

"I've missed you too," she returns as Aerith melts into her arms.

And just like that, the raging fire in her is doused.