I love you.
I'm sorry.
I'm really sorry.
Tifa repeats these words like it's a prayer as she rains kisses onto Cloud, who lays on top of their bed, unfazed and sulky.
His temples. His eyebrows. His jaw. The shells of his ears. His cheeks. The corners of his lips. His lips. His chin. His neck.
She left nothing untouched.
She's sorry over a lot of things.
She's sorry for yelling at him too much. Sorry that she's always in a bad mood, especially during early mornings. Sorry that she wouldn't talk to him without being snappy. Sorry that she's always pissed when he's out too much and too long. Sorry for shutting him out.
But most of all, she's sorry that her mind's half a mile away from him, even when she's trying to ask for forgiveness, and shower him with her love.
He doesn't need to know that though.
She just continues to kiss him, hoping that he would give in and give her some type of reaction.
And he does, eventually – to her luck.
He returns her kiss – a kiss so hot and so deep (is he trying to eat her?), it makes her head spin more uncontrollably than it already does. When they let go, she lets her teeth playfully sink into his bottom lip and rubs a hand down to his hard-on. He moans, face twisting in a way that makes the heat circulating inside her bubble.
She crawls down, then levels her face close to his cock.
Before long, she's sinking him deep inside her mouth.
The ropes of veins. The warmth. The hardness beneath soft flesh. The curve of its end reaching the back of her throat.
God. She missed this so badly.
"Fuck, Tifa…" He's panting, and she feels his fingers sliding into her hair, tugging it.
She releases him and climbs back on top of him.
They stare at each other… and he's looking at her with some kind of feeling. Distraught? Guilt? Displeasure? It's hard to pinpoint what it is exactly because it gets drowned out by that sexy lusty look of his anyway… and she doesn't really want to ask questions.
She guides his cock to her pussy, then hastily buries it deep inside her.
God. The way it hits and scrapes her insides makes her back arch.
It feels so fucking good.
It gets even better when he grabs and kneads her tits with his hands.
She rides him hard, desperate for his cock to split her in two.
She wants to hear him grunt and groan louder beneath her.
She doesn't care that people all around them can probably hear her moaning like a slut.
It just feels so fucking good.
And she wants to feel good, especially after this morning's visit to the Cetra Gallery.
When she looks down, she sees his burning red face, closed eyes and open drooling mouth.
She eyes him more closely, trying to imprint the image into her brain.
But her brain's a mush. It's morphing his image into something else.
Into a figure with long brown wavy hair, and beautiful, prominent collarbones.
It's making her breathe harder, expanding her lungs to a point where she can feel like it can pop out from her chest at any time.
Her pace quickens, sliding Cloud's cock in and out of her like it's just her toy.
He growls. "Fuck, Tifa!"
He pulls her down, making her yelp at the sudden movement, before he rolls over onto her.
He's fucking her hard, so hard that she swears that the bed can break from all the shaking.
He's holding onto the bed frame firmly, with his arms extended just above her head and she's supposed to be able to see the faces he's making.
But she can't.
All she sees is long brown wavy hair, and beautiful, prominent collarbones.
And she isn't sorry about it.
Instead, she bites her tongue down, hoping that she wouldn't scream her name, and he wouldn't know that she's thinking about some other woman while he's finally fucking her.
"I've been thinking about what you said, Tifa…"
Cloud ends the silence between them as they lay on the bed, soaking in their sweat.
The blanket's barely covering their naked torsos, and their legs are bent away from one another.
Tifa has her back to him, hardly listening as she stares at the blue lava lamp on the bedside table.
"I'll do better," he continues, and she can feel him training his eyes onto her, expecting a reply.
"Mmmhm," is all she mumbles.
She honestly doesn't care what he promises to do. She's heard too many promises from him, and this one's probably another empty one.
What she's interested in is the emptiness she feels as she's laying down there next to him.
She's physically satisfied, but emotionally and spiritually drained, and it's not a good feeling.
Cloud must have known that she's not in the right state of mind because he doesn't press on.
She feels the bed move slightly, telling her that he's turning away from her just like she's turned away from him.
Tifa's sitting on the floor of her studio on a Monday morning, packing sets of small vases into brown boxes when her phone lights up, notifying that she's just received a new text message.
She would have ignored it… had it not come from the person she named 'flower girl' in her contact list.
She puts her task on hold to read the text.
Flower girl: Look at what I'm having for lunch!
Attached to the text is a photo of a paper pail from Turtle's Paradise, Midgar's go-to Wutaian takeaway that has been in business in Sector 6 since forever.
You: What's in it?
Aerith sends her another photo of the paper pail, but unsealed this time to reveal soy-sauce fried noodles and mixed veggies.
You: Boring. Try their fermented soy beans and rice
Flower girl: Eww no! They smell nasty!
You: Smells nasty but tastes good
Flower girl: U have bad taste. We can't be friends.
Tifa giggles, ignoring the looks that her assistants are giving her.
Flower girl: Jokes. We can still be friends. How about tomorrow?
Tifa lifts an eyebrow, losing the plot of their conversation.
You: Tomorrow?
Flower girl: Let's go there tomorrow night. I'll try those soy beans and rice
Tifa doesn't even bother to check her schedule. She knows what her answer will be.
You: On it
Flower girl: What r u up to now?
She snaps a photo of the vases and boxes, and sends it to Aerith.
Flower girl: Those vases are pretty! Think I'll order another one
Flower girl is typing…
The typing stops and Tifa assumes that Aerith's done talking.
But she isn't.
Flower girl is typing…
Flower girl: Can't get u out of my head.
Tifa receives another photo from her.
A photo of her painting.
A woman with long hair, leaning her cheek against a vase that looks just like the one Tifa made for her.
Tifa smiles, thinking of the kisses they shared in the Cetra Gallery last Friday morning, and their awkward but sweet laugh afterwards before they're interrupted by some visitors.
Another text message lights up her phone but this time, it's not from Aerith.
MyBabe: Can't eat with u tonight. Dinner with Zack and a client.
Cloud skipping dinner with her doesn't surprise her anymore. Usually, she'll get upset because they hardly spend time with one another these days. The asshole's hoarding Cloud to himself.
But she isn't bothered about it now.
Because all she can think about is seeing Aerith again.
A/N: Ask forgiveness from the Cetra Gods NEOW!