A/N: TW: Mentions of implied physical abuse

It's 5pm and Cloud hasn't returned to the hotel room.

Tifa tried calling him since last night but none of her calls were answered.

She's sitting now on one of the armchairs, staring at the entrance door, hoping to see it swing and Cloud coming in.

She doesn't know what to do.

She wants to search for him but she's afraid that he still needs more time alone.

Then again, what if he's left her on her own in this town?

She really doesn't want to spend another long night of waiting in this hotel room.

It reminds her of the past… of the time when she used to wait for her dad, or her mom to come home after spending a night out with whoever their sidepieces are.

She would watch the driveway from her bedroom window, hoping that any of them would come home.

If they do, she would have the chance to sleep with them at their bed and breakfast (and every now and then, lunch) wouldn't be so lonely.

Some days, she would be unlucky.

Days when they bring their sidepieces home. No attention or care would be spared for her.

Sometimes, these days would end with bruises on her body, either inflicted by the sidepieces, or her mom, or dad.

It's been a long time since she's been through that period of hell… but the memories sit in her brain like it's a room, and she's its forever prisoner.

She's never stopped wishing for a pill, or some type of way, to make her forget.

The time is 10pm when the entrance door unlocks from outside and Cloud finally enters.

Tifa abruptly raises from her seat and watches him while he moves around the room.

He has his back to her as he takes a bottle of water out of the mini fridge and chugs it down.

Tifa knows that he doesn't want to look at her.

"Have you… have you eaten?"

Whether it's breakfast, lunch or dinner… she only wants to find out if he's been doing alright.

"…I have."

He's making his way to the couch when she notices something on the back of his neck.

Purple-red marks.

She dashes forward and pulls down the collar of his shirt without warning.

"What the fuck are you-"

There are more of them – more hickeys on his back.

She counts the total to be 4. Her guess is that there are others elsewhere on his body.

But she doesn't want to know.

She's shaking.

"Who… who was it, Cloud?"

Cloud keeps quiet and pulls his shirt back up.

"Who was it, Cloud?"

He ignores her, sits down on the couch and turns on the TV.

She marches to his front, snatches the remote control and turns the TV back off.

"Who were you fucking with?"

"I was fucking with women we met at the beach all. night. long," he hisses, holding her in an icy cold stare.

"You happy now that I've admitted to fucking other women?" he continues to taunt.

Tears are starting to pool in her eyes and all she wants to do is to hit, hit and hit him for causing so much pain in her chest.

She wants to scream at him.

But what he's saying soon numbs her.

"Why do you look so surprised? Don't tell me you weren't expecting this after last night."

Their eyes are now locked onto one another as he leaves his words hanging, expecting her to piece together what he means.

The way he's looking at her… it makes her feel rotten on the inside.

Like she's the biggest hypocrite, whose dishonesty is ever magnified by the silence of the room.

She knows that if they're going to engage in a screaming match, she would lose.

But she doesn't want to let go of this anger.

He's hurt her and she has every right to feel angry.

So she storms out of the room, sprinting away as far as she can.

There's no destination in her mind.

She just wants to run away.

Away to somewhere she can sit and process all her sadness and anger.