A/N: So apparently I'm a liar. Took me a while to figure out what to do with this as it grew (of course it did), which is why I didn't post as planned. So, here we are, with a few more chapters to go. I'm sorry?

M rating in effect starting from now.

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Maybe we're from the same star

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part four

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Cloud spends his twentieth birthday without his soulmate.

It's strange because she was supposed to be in Midgar already, but plans change—Tifa had to delay her departure by more than a month when her father had a work accident. Instead of being here early July, she'll be here mid-August. In less than a week, really, but it's been long enough already for Cloud. The selfish part of him couldn't help but be disappointed when she had told him—he'd reined it, his worry for Brian trumping.

His phone shows a new message, and he almost misses it in the cacophony of the bar. The live band isn't bad, but the music isn't why he and his friends are here—the cheap alcohol is the reason Zack chose the place. Tifa's name flashes a second time on his screen, and he opens the messages, having an idea what he'll find.

[08/11 - 21:56] T: are you having fun?

[08/11 - 21:56] T: i really wanted to be there for your birthday.

Across from him, Zack laughs, loud and drunk, cheering on Reno to chug his beer. Next to him, Vincent bobs his head to the music. Cloud looks at his friends with a certain fondness but then senses his heart pinch. Though he's gotten better at understanding he can have a life here without Tifa, it still feels wrong, disloyal. He knows it's because they've been so close for so long, their bond so precious and deep. Having other friends has always been an issue between them, something he is aware shouldn't be the case.

On his left, Aerith leans in to check his phone, and Cloud moves so she can't. Aerith on the drunk side of tipsy becomes nosy as hell; she chuckles at his reaction.

"Is it Tifa?" she asks.

"You know it is," he replies as he goes back to the message thread.

[08/11 - 22:01] C: you'll be here in a few days.

[08/11 - 22:02] T: i just feel like I should have been there you know?

[08/11 - 22:02] T: you came all the way home for mine.

[08/11 - 22:04] C: all I care about is that you'll be here soon.

[08/11 - 22:07] T: i need to finish getting dad settled. have fun, i'll talk to you later.

Cloud frowns a little; he knows Tifa enough to tell something is wrong. He debates calling her, but the noise from the bar or the busy street will be too loud, and he sees no point in having a conversation where they can't understand each other. So he types a quick reply telling her he'll call when he gets home and puts the phone away for now.

"It's your birthday, why are you so sad?"

Aerith giggles and pokes at his soulmate mark. Cloud snaps his arm to his side the second she makes contact, trying to hold in his irritation. He knows she's just teasing, but he hates anyone other than Tifa touching his mark. There's something about the way Tifa's fingers circle his wrist in a need for reassurance that is sacred to him.

"Don't do that," he says with as much calm as he can.

But Aerith has already turned to talk with Zack, and Cloud knows she didn't hear. A glass of beer appears before him; he looks up to see Vincent retracting his hand.

"Drink up." Vincent's voice is deep and calm, with an inflexible quality. "Have some fun."

Cloud laughs if only because Vincent saying that with such a straight face is funny in itself. "Thanks, I'll take it."

Seeing Cloud's head is back with them, Zack calls for a birthday toast. Cloud groans, both pleased and embarrassed, but joins in. As he drinks his beer, he momentarily forgets about the phone in his pocket.

—

"Stop fidgeting. You're making me nervous."

Cloud sends a glare Zack's way before turning back to watch the people streaming out from the arrival gate. Tifa's flight landed a while ago, and it shouldn't be long before she comes out. He plays with the leather bracelets on his right wrist, then shoves his hands in his pockets, then checks the last message she sent him over twenty minutes ago.

[08/16 - 14:36] T: just landed.

"Relax." Zack drags the last syllable. "There are a lot of people, so it's normal if it's taking a while." At Cloud's silence, he adds, "Can't wait to meet the reason I'm now homeless."

"You're not homeless," Cloud says. "You moved in with Vincent."

"A detail."

Cloud twists to give his friend a wry look. "Aren't you being a little dramatic?"

A strange sensation seizes him—a pressure he hadn't even realized lay in his chest lifts, and yet he can't breathe properly, as if his anxiety and excitement shot up at once. Zack says something, but Cloud isn't listening; he can't listen, too focused on looking for Tifa. There can't be any other explanation for what is overtaking him.

It takes seconds for him to spot her; she wears loose, comfortable clothes for travel, and her hair is up in a bun, tendrils framing her face. Her eyes snap to his the moment he finds her, and Cloud lets out a loud exhale. He faintly hears Zack says something; again, his brain doesn't register the words. Tifa picks up the pace even with the big suitcase behind her and the cumbersome backpack on her shoulders. Cloud can't move, can't speak—he can only stare as the reality that Tifa is truly here to be with him crashes into him. She comes to a halt before him and smiles; she speaks, but her voice is lost to the bustle of the airport. There's something about seeing Tifa, about knowing she's here to stay, about her being so close that makes Cloud realize how his heart had cracked in her absence. The warmth from her smile radiates and fills the crevices that had formed, allowing it to be whole once more.

"You're here," he says, too softly to be heard.

But Tifa's smile tells him she did; it expands as Cloud cradles her face in his hands, stroking his thumbs along her cheekbones. Despite wanting to feel her body against his, he doesn't hug her, and neither does she. He thinks it's because they've never been the type to display much affection in public. But then, as Tifa circles his left wrist like she always does, Cloud realizes it's because he wants her all to himself—he wants to regain that little universe they create together.

"How did the flight go?" he asks.

She turns her head to lay a soft kiss on the inside of his wrist, and Cloud's heart almost bursts. "It went fine. I slept through most of it."

"Good."

Someone close by clears their throat. Cloud sighs as he remembers who drove him here. He slips a hand into Tifa's so they can turn around to face Zack. Tifa leans against his side and intertwines their fingers.

"That's our driver for today." Cloud gives his friend a sharp smile.

Zack flips him off. "I'm the roommate."

"Ex-roommate," Cloud cuts in.

"Happy to finally see you," Zack carries on as if nothing was said. "Maybe now this guy will stop moping."

Tifa wraps her free hand around Cloud's arm. "I'm Tifa."

"Oh yeah, don't worry, I know." Zack chuckles. "He whines a lot when he's drunk."

Cloud rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore the jibe. "His name is Zack, by the way."

"What, you never talk about me? Not cool, man."

"He's mentioned you a few times," Tifa says. A half-truth, but it's enough for Zack.

"C'mon, let me get that." Cloud gestures at the heavy pack on her shoulders. "We're parked kinda far."

She shakes her head. "It's fine. Lead the way," she tells Zack with a smile.

As they make their way to the parking, Cloud lets them fill the silence with their chatter, too focused on the softness of Tifa's hand in his. The last time they saw each other was on her birthday, over three months ago, and the time they had together was too short. There's always been an unearthly aspect to his reaction to Tifa, but he doesn't remember experiencing it this strongly in years. The last time was when she fell in the gorge on Mt Nibel, and he sensed something was wrong from afar. Only this time it's a good feeling, almost a joyful presentiment. Part of him thinks it's just the shock of reuniting, of knowing they won't have to separate again for as long as they want—it exponentiates any sensations associated with her. When they reach the car and Cloud places her luggage in the trunk, he decides the reason doesn't matter—only the feeling of happiness does.

He sits in the backseat with Tifa, grateful that Zack shuts his mouth for once. They take off and spend most of the drive in silence. Tifa falls asleep after twenty minutes, right as they are to enter the city proper. The rush hour is in full swing, forcing them to slow down to a ridiculous pace. Zack groans when they hit a section where traffic stalls. He meets Cloud's eyes through the rearview mirror and raises an eyebrow in a silent question. Though Cloud has an idea what the question is, he plays dumb.

"What?"

He takes care not to speak too loudly, and Zack does the same.

"So she's your soulmate?"

Cloud nods. Every one of his friends is aware he has a soulmate; Cloud doesn't hide his mark, and he doesn't deny it if someone asks him. In Midgar, people are used to seeing marks on others and aren't shy about questions. But he's always been reluctant to speak of his soulmate to others. If they don't ask directly, Cloud doesn't say who it is. It has nothing to do with Tifa herself, but with his unwillingness to share her and what they have with the world. He is aware it's selfish in many ways, but he can't help it. The only person who ever approached the topic head-on is Aerith early in their friendship, and he'd been honest with her. But when she'd asked if Tifa was his girlfriend, it had struck Cloud as strange. All he had done was repeat Tifa was his soulmate because to him, it explained everything. Aerith hadn't brought the topic up ever again.

Zack doesn't push for more, mindful of Tifa sleeping—but Cloud is aware his friend also knows better than to inquire. They chat until they near the apartment; Zack maneuvers the car into the only parking space on the street as Cloud wakes up Tifa. She groans and rubs her eyes, then snaps them open when she realizes where they are.

"Shit," she whispers as she takes in the surroundings.

Cloud lets out a quick laugh. "Welcome to Midgar."

"You should have woken me up." Her reprimand is without heat.

"You needed to sleep."

She gives him a sheepish smile. "I didn't think I was this tired."

They both get out and round the car to get her things. Zack has already removed the suitcase from the trunk and hands the backpack to Cloud; he shuts the trunk before turning to them.

"Thank you, Zack." Tifa grabs the handle of the suitcase. "I'm sure I'll see you around?"

"For sure," Zack says with a laugh. "We need to have a proper conversation. I have to know Cloud's most embarrassing secrets."

Cloud takes Tifa's hand and leads her towards the building. "Thanks, Zack. Bye, Zack."

"Really feeling the gratitude, man!" More laughter follows Zack's shout.

"Thank you!" Tifa calls out over her shoulder.

Cloud thinks he hears Zack yell, "At least one of you has manners," before the door to the building falls shut behind Tifa and him. He gestures at her to hand him to the suitcase so he can carry it up the stairs.

"How are you feeling?" he asks as they climb.

"A little nervous, I guess." Tifa hums as if in thought. "Weren't you a little rude to Zack?"

"No." When she laughs, the sound low like she tried to hide it, Cloud says, "I want us to be alone."

Tifa has nothing to say to that, and with the suitcase in hand, he doesn't turn around to see her expression. It's only when they reach the third-floor landing that he does—his heart skips a beat at the yearning in her eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," he says, aware his voice came out a little rough.

But she doesn't take offense; she knows him better than that. "Like I want to be alone with you, too?"

"C'mon. This way." His grumble elicits a chuckle out of her.

The apartment is at the end of the hall; Cloud unlocks it and pushes the door open for Tifa to go in first.

"It's strange," Tifa says as he walks in and then locks the door. "It's like I know this place from the photos and what you told me, but I really don't."

Cloud turns, throwing the keys on the small table in the hallway; he goes to say something but stops himself when he finds Tifa only a foot away.

"Hey." Her voice is soft, but then she takes a deep breath, and it comes out a little shaky. "Is this really happening?"

He smiles, slow and sure. "Come here."

Tifa doesn't hesitate; the force of her embrace backs them into the door. Cloud almost laughs at this, but Tifa being in his arms—and the relief it brings—triumphs. His arms wrap around her, bringing her as close as possible; her breath warms his neck as she twists her head to rest it on his shoulder. They stay like this a moment, just basking into each other's presence, but then it's not enough; it's never enough, Cloud thinks as he grips the nape of her neck to tilt up her head. Tifa lets out a soft whimper when he kisses her, and he tightens the arm circling her waist in answer, lifting her so she stands on the tip of her toes. Her fingers dig into his shoulders and his neck. As his lips stray to her cheek towards her jaw, Tifa presses fully against him; he groans, trapped between the hardness of the door and the softness of her body.

"Please," she breathes in his ear.

It's a request for many things, and Cloud knows it. He slips a hand below her loose T-shirt, gliding it along her back with slight pressure so she can curve into him even more.

"Cloud." The way she whines his name makes him believe nothing else matters; nothing but touching Tifa; nothing but feeling her skin sliding against his; nothing but her, her, her. "Please," she says again, more desperate this time. "I haven't been with you in so long."

Despite not wanting to, he pulls back a little to look into her eyes. They shine with anticipation and desire and longing, and Cloud exhales as emotions grow within him, making it hard to breathe. "I'm being considerate. You just got here, and you were sleeping fifteen minutes ago."

"I don't care," Tifa says, punctuating her statement with a harsh kiss.

When she backs away, he sighs, letting his head fall against the door. Eyes half-lidded, he watches Tifa unzip her sweater and throw it on the floor; her T-shirt follows, leaving her in her sports bra, and then she's close again. She unfastens the buttons of his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders once she's done, and Cloud offers no resistance. Her skin on his feels amazing, almost dreamlike, as if he can't wholly believe this is true. Tifa grabs his hand, stepping back and drawing him away from the door. Sunlight floods the main room of the apartment, caressing their skin, and illuminating Tifa; it catches unto the ruby tint of her eyes and he feels his breath hitch, not having realized how much he missed just looking at her. He comes to a sudden stop and tugs on her hand to bring her back against him. There's something soulless about going in the darkness of his room when he could be with her in the sunshine. As he kisses her, wild and greedy, Cloud hoists her up in his arms and drops her on the dining table; he steps forward until he stands in between her legs.

"I thought you wanted to be considerate," Tifa says, laughing.

His hands slide along her ribcage, stopping at the hem of her bra. "I want to look at you."

"I want to look at you, too," she whispers as he lifts her bra and tosses it away.

Cloud places his hand over her sternum, over her heart. He opens out his hand and applies light pressure to get her to recline a little. Her chest pushes against his hand as her breathing becomes uneven, and the sensation quiets his mind until all that remains is the two of them.

He leans over her and brings her closer to the edge of the table, flush with him so her legs can encase his waist. "Untie your hair." He speaks the demand into her skin, kissing along her collarbones and lower still.

"The plane made it gross and—" Tifa trails off when he grinds against her, holding her so close that she has no choice but to feel him. She moans, the sound quiet yet so loud.

Cloud lays more kisses over her breasts, exploring and teasing. "I want to look at you," he says again like it justifies it all for him.

She shifts to bring her hand up to her hair. He breaks away a small amount to see her hair cascade down her back. With another gentle push, he gets her to lay back on the table; her hair fans out over the surface. Cloud watches the sunlight ripple over her body, his heart constricting and expanding, hurting him in a way he craves. He brushes his knuckles over her cheek, down her chest and over her breast, then to her stomach. Her muscles tense at his feather-light touch.

"You're so beautiful," he says in a murmur, almost oblivious to his own words. Cloud drops forward to kiss her again and again, everywhere and anywhere. When he speaks, his lips stroke her skin. "I missed you."

Tifa's hands find his hair, and she winds her fingers through the strands. "Me too."

"And I love you."

"Me too." She gasps when he steps back, pulling down her leggings just enough to mouth kisses across her hipbones. "I love you, too." She tugs on his hair, and he glances up to see her sit. "Later," she pants.

Cloud drags her leggings and underwear all the way down. "Let me show you I missed you."

"Not now." Tifa frames his face and brings him level to hers; her lips find his, her urgency palpable. "All I want is you inside me," she says as she tightens the grip her legs have on his waist.

He groans as he discerns the warmth of her through his shorts and drops his forehead on her shoulder. "Fuck," he rasps when she discards his remaining clothes for him. "Are you still—"

Her arms encircle his neck, and she grasps on to him so there is no distance between them; her nails dig into his skin. "I'm on the pill, it's fine. Cloud, please," she breathes out. "I want to be with you."

Tifa lets out a soft grunt as he sinks into her. "You okay?" he asks in her ear.

"It's just been a while," she says before laying a kiss on his jaw. Her legs squeeze him, urging him on. "Please don't stop."

Cloud clasps the back of her neck, forcing her to look at him. He stares at her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, her darkened eyes—he watches as her eyelids flutter closed and her tongue peeks out when he moves. "Come on, look at me," he coaxes, running his thumb over her bottom lip.

She whines, low and needy, and opens her eyes again. There is barely any space between them, only enough to breathe, but this is how they both want it. Her skin sliding against his feels beyond surreal after so long apart; there's nothing grounding about touching Tifa right now. With Tifa as the catalyst, he will fly apart from the bliss blooming inside him. He kisses her, swallowing her sighed litany—please please please. He answers her with a prayer of his own—her name muttered against the skin of her neck, over her pulse. When he comes, so does she, and the sweet noises she makes echo in his ears. As he gets down from his high, Cloud realizes his grip on her is tight, too tight, like he could will her body to never part from his. He raises his head and loosens his hold—to his surprise, Tifa lets out a quiet noise of protest, still entwined around him. Cloud laughs, the sound deeper, rougher than usual, and then places a kiss on her lips. His smile grows when she drifts to his cheek and his jaw, dropping gentle kisses along the way. He hums his contentment.

"I want to stay like this," Tifa says, a hushed confession.

He nips her earlobe. "Don't you want to see your new place?"

"I don't need a new place, I just need you." At his satisfied groan, she pushes away a little so she can stare in his eyes. "I'm so happy right now," she whispers. "I'm afraid if you move, it'll end."

Cloud can't say he doesn't think the same—if they part, this moment will slip through his fingers, and he doesn't want to lose it either. The hand not supporting his weight slides down her back, pressing her into him. "Then I'll stay here." Her mark captures his attention as she leans back; Cloud grabs her arm, twisting it so he can observe the eight-pointed star. He absent-mindedly strokes the skin there.

Sometimes, Cloud can't believe or understand what Tifa and him share—sometimes, it scares him. It's a strange kind of fear, one born from awe and devotion; one where he keeps climbing and climbing to reach a peak that never comes. This is what unearths the fear, really—this never-ending suspense as he thinks it can't go on like this forever, and yet it does. There is no telling if the mountain will crumble, no telling when he'll free-fall. And as high as he's gotten, he knows the descent will hurt.

Tifa kisses him again and again, her need clear as she grips his left wrist and guides his hand down her body. There's nothing gentle about them this time. As Cloud drives into her and mouths silent words on her skin, he doesn't think of dives and ascents, or of fear and insecurity—today, his mind is only filled with wonder.

—

Tifa's first night in Midgar is a restless one.

As the night advances, she realizes she feels confined; the room she and Cloud sleep in is small, barely big enough for the bed and dresser and desk. So is Zack's old room, which Cloud says can be an office. The principal room with the dining area, living room, and kitchen is open and spacious enough, and Tifa likes it. But really, it's not so much the size of the space that makes her feel this way—it's the unfamiliarity of it.

She lies in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Headlights from passing cars filter through the window, distracting her, and the noise of the city is overwhelming. All of her life, she knew nights as being dark and silent. Next to her, Cloud sleeps on his stomach, his face buried in his pillow. Tifa twists her head to look at him, still a little amazed at being here with him after a year apart. This all feels like an illusion, a dream from which she'll wake up anytime soon. Maybe that's why she can't sleep, she thinks, because then the idea of waking up will be too real, and that scares her. Her gaze finds the ceiling again.

"I can hear you overthinking."

Though Cloud mumbles the words and his pillow muffles them, she hears him. "Go back to sleep," she says softly.

The sheets rustling and the mattress dipping gives away his movements; he lays an arm over her stomach and drops a kiss on her bare shoulder.

"What are you thinking about?" The way he speaks is slow and lazy; he's only half-awake.

The urge to share her thoughts is hard to resist despite not wanting to disturb him. "Everything is…weird."

Cloud hums. "Is that bad?"

"No…just weird." Part of her wonders if she's not lying. "I'll get used to it."

"You will."

Tifa doesn't reply, and soon she feels the caress of his deep, even breaths against her shoulder. Still, she can't fall asleep. Everything is too much all at once—the lights, the noise, the unknown—and she slips under Cloud's arm, doing her best not to perturb him. It's a little cold in the main room; she hasn't unpacked her clothes yet, so she searches through her suitcase for a sweatshirt. She puts on the first one she finds and goes to sit on the couch, phone in hand. It's 2:31 here, and for a moment she debates calling her Dad but then settles on texting him good night. Seconds later, her phone rings; Tifa smiles when her father's picture fills the screen.

"Hi, Dad."

"Can't sleep?" Her father's familiar voice eases some of the weight in her chest.

"No," she says, keeping her voice low. "It's noisy."

He chuckles. "It's a big city, Tifa."

"I know." She bites her lip, a little embarrassed. It sounds so simple coming from someone else. "But I'm not used to it."

"Don't worry about that. You probably can't sleep because of the time difference."

More embarrassment seeps in when she realizes she hadn't thought of that; she clears her throat. "Probably."

"Try to sleep, Tifa. We'll talk more when you're rested, alright?"

"Sure." In the background, she hears him getting up and walking around. "Is your leg okay?"

"Yes, it is," her father says with a note of exasperation. "You left because it was okay, didn't you? Stop worrying about that. Go to sleep."

It's her turn to let out a soft laugh. "Good night, Dad."

"Sleep well, Tifa."

She ends the call but keeps the phone in hand. Still not tired, Tifa finds her photos folder and scrolls up. There aren't a lot of pictures from the last year; most of them are shots of Nibelheim, a few are of her alone or with friends, some are of random things she found interesting. They are a stark contrast to the ones beyond this past year; Cloud appears in most of those, either on his own in candid shots, or in impromptu selfies with her. He's never been the biggest fan of having pictures taken, but he relents when it's her. She's uncertain what she hopes browsing through her photos will do—make her sleepy, maybe. After having gone through most of her photos, she exits the app and drops the phone on the couch; she brings her knees up and wraps her arms around them. From where she is on the couch, she glances at the street below through the gauzy drapes. There are cars passing and people walking still despite the late hour.

Tifa sighs when she hears the bedroom's door open and footsteps following. She hadn't meant to wake him up. She turns around to see Cloud standing at the entrance of the short hall leading to the bedroom. Before she can apologize for the noise, Cloud pads over to the couch and sits next to her.

"You okay?" he asks, then yawns.

"Just talking to Dad." She plays with the hem of her sleep shorts.

"So not okay?"

She shrugs, not feeling like speaking of this right now. Instead, she curls up against him, resting her head on his shoulder. His arm comes around her, and he moves until they're lying on the couch. Tifa strokes the skin of his arm, wanting and needing that peaceful sensation she gets from touching him.

"Tifa?"

"Hm?"

His fingers slip below her tank top, digging into her back, bringing her closer. "You know it'll be fine." His sigh ruffles her hair. "Try not to stress so much."

Tifa knows he's right; it's only that the unfamiliarity of everything surrounding her is overwhelming, and Cloud is her sole anchor. It feels like she is adrift at sea, lost in unexplored territory, and yet she can always find her way home. When she thinks of it this way, her anxiety ebbs a little, enough that her heart loosens and allows her to breathe.

"I'll try," she promises.

Cloud's answer is to tighten his hold, and this time, soothed and reassured, Tifa's eyes drift closed.

—