The next few weeks fly by in a blur. There are cheer practices for the last sports games of the semester, practicing for her holiday concert, and studying for her mid-terms. There's spending time with her friends that aren't Cloud, but it seems to get harder and harder with each passing week. When she pulls out her phone, her immediate reaction is to pull up Cloud's contact. If she hears a funny joke or absurd drama in the classroom, she tells Cloud about it first.
When Ashley invites Tifa to her annual Christmas party, it's the first time Tifa hesitates in telling Cloud.
He won't want to go, she thinks. He doesn't care about Ashley at all. He doesn't care about any of the people who are invited. He'll probably hate it, stuck in crowded rooms with not just strangers, but people he likes to antagonize and punch on occasion.
It's a terrible idea to even bring it up, but Tifa can't miss it. She goes every year. She's even played some Christmas tunes on the piano at the encouragement of her friends, and it's become a ritual.
It's also senior year. It'll be the last Christmas party of her high school career. She has to go. But she already feels the disappointment and the potential future loneliness, being surrounded by so many of her friends yet missing Cloud at the same time.
It's only after the holiday concert, receiving a hug from Claudia and her father, Cloud off to the side with the expression she is so accustomed to seeing nowadays—soft and bright with an easy-going smile.
"Hey, Cloud," she says, pulling him away from their parents. "So, this weekend, there's going to be a party."
Cloud raises his brows at her. "A party?"
She nods. "A Christmas party. I go every year. It's...tradition."
"You do like traditions," he says, smirking.
"And it's the last year. It's always fun...I mean, I know you don't like crowds, and you won't like anyone who will be there...but..." she sighs. "Would you think about coming?"
Cloud frowns. "Do you want me to go?"
She nods vigorously. "Absolutely."
He blinks at her response. "Oh. Uh. Then sure."
Tifa nearly gasps. "What? Really?"
"Yeah. It's just a party." He half-shrugs.
Tifa is floored by his simple answer. So nonchalant. So uncaring and blasé.
She squints. Usually when he answers this way, it means he's hiding his true feelings about something. "I don't want you to feel pressured."
He smiles. "I'm not."
She bites the inner meat of her lip, trying not to get too excited before she drops the next round of information. "There's, um, one more thing."
"What?"
"Ashley is hosting it." Tifa cringes. "Her parents are in Costa del Sol."
Cloud crosses his arms. "Ah. Well, on second thought..."
Tifa plucks at the front of her dress. "But Cloud, I promise it won't be—"
"Tifa, I'm kidding," he says, chuckling at her expression. "I'll still go."
Tifa straightens, the warmth of excitement freely flooding over her. "You will?"
He seems increasingly amused by her reaction. "Uh, yeah."
She feels like her lips will tear from how widely she's grinning. "Oh! Thank you, Cloud!"
She jumps forward and wraps her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. She squeezes him tightly against her, and she feels him stiffen underneath her touch. Soon, however, he begins to relax. His arms come around her waist, resting lightly against the small of her back.
It's the first time Tifa hugs him.
In fact, it's the first time she's touched him so closely. And she likes it.
She likes it a lot.
When that weekend rolls around, Tifa has decided to change her traditional Christmas party attire. She stands in front of her closet and chooses one of her sweater dresses. She has many of them, she realizes, receiving one each year from her father. It is usually at her behest, where she prints one out from the internet, giving her dad specifics on how to go about buying it. It's her one indulgence each year, aside from the obligatory underwear, bras, and embarrassing feminine things she buys for herself and hides in a box, allowing her father to wrap because he wants her to open even the most mundane presents.
She usually wears her green, velvet sweater dress for the party, bordered with a red and white striped, candy cane collar, adorned with black tights and kitten heeled booties. She wears holiday wreath earrings, and she mimics the same make up style she has for her concerts, with a little blush, mascara, eyeliner, and lip gloss.
Cloud teases her about her sticking with traditions, and he's right. It inspires her to choose a different sweater, and to break the rules like he does—it's senior year, after all, and that, if anything, gives her reason to try.
She chooses a dark, navy blue sweater dress that is strewn with candy canes and snowflakes stitched into the soft, cottony material. It hugs her a little better this year, having been a size too big when she bought it. She had loved it too much to return it.
It settles across her chest without the puff of extra fabric, and Tifa admits that she has grown a little bit over the last two years. Whether that is a good thing or not, Tifa can't decide. Sometimes, she embraces it. Other times, she absolutely despises it.
Today, she's proud of it.
She slips on the same black tights and booties. She spends too much time painting her face with make up, and halfway through her mascara, she absently wonders if Cloud will like her outfit.
It breaks her concentration for a moment before she resettles her position in front of her bathroom mirror, adding a few additional swipes of the mascara wand.
She always cares about what Cloud thinks. This isn't any different, but it does make her stomach flip at the thought of Cloud thinking, perhaps, that she's pretty tonight. Secretly, she's come to the conclusion that she wants him to believe she's attractive. She wants him to see her as a potential prospect. He's been so elusive and apathetic about relationships with girls. She imagines what her friend, Ronnie, had told her in passing the other day.
"Cloud Strife is cute," she had said, looking pointedly at Tifa. "And you guys hang out a lot. What's up with you two, Teef?"
Tifa had spluttered, laughing. "Nothing. He's my friend."
Ronnie had just raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's all?"
"Really," she answered, nodding.
"Hm…okay," Ronnie said, eyeing where Cloud was slouched by his locker down the hall. Tifa knew that look on Ronnie's face. And Ronnie had mentioned it before, how she was one of the girls who vocalized interest in Cloud. Something about how elusive and bad boy he seemed. "I might talk to him, then."
Tifa hid her frown, smiling instead. "Sure. Whatever."
Tifa glances over herself in the mirror. Ronnie's very pretty. She has olive skin and hazel eyes. Her hair is thick and black, and she's lean from soccer.
Tifa bites her lip before choosing her gloss. It doesn't matter. Ronnie is her friend, and Cloud is her friend, and she will be happy with whatever makes them happy.
Still, even through that, she hopes Cloud likes her dress.
The party begins at 7:00 pm. Which really means it starts at 7:30 pm. Tifa had told Cloud to wear something festive. He had merely grunted in response.
They agreed on going together since they lived so close. Cloud walks over right when Tifa is stuffing her backseat with her offerings for the party, including sugar cookies and chocolates all layered on a tray.
"You didn't bake those, too, did you?" Cloud calls over as she closes the door of the car.
She glances up, smiling when she sees him. "No, I bought them, this time."
He raises a brow at her. He smirks at her answer. "Store bought? Never thought you'd take shortcuts."
She rolls her eyes at him, laughing, and scrutinizes his attire. He's wearing a plain green t-shirt with three-quarter sleeves, his nice, dark wash jeans, and his sneakers.
He doesn't have his cap on, nor does he have a hoodie. This time, she can see the definition of his arms against the stretched fabric of his sleeves, and she can admire the slight swell of his chest. The shirt looks like it's well worn, and it must be half a size too small for him. He must have had it when he was scrawny, she supposes.
"I told you to be festive," she teases gently.
Cloud looks down at his shirt. "It's green."
She shakes her head at him. "I'll give you that." She juts her thumb at her car. "You ready to go?"
He nods, coming around to the passenger side and taking a seat. She slips into the driver's seat, and they journey the few short minutes it takes to Ashley's house in the northern part of the neighborhood.
She lives in a home that is not much bigger than Tifa's. It is decorated finely, with garlands, wreaths, and ornaments hanging along the chimney mantel. They have their Christmas tree up, glittering and sparkling and lit up with a rainbow of lights. The kitchen holds all kinds of finger foods, from sweets to savory bites, punch and eggnog and other refreshments. Festive music spills from the standing speaker with Ashley's phone plugged into the port.
Several classmates are there, already, congregating in the kitchen or the living room, drinking, eating, or holding plates of snacks.
Ashley squeals when Tifa walks through the door, running up to her and hugging her.
"Yay, you're here!" she says, completely delighted. "And you brought the tray! You're the best!"
"Not sure if you needed it," Tifa says, gesturing to all the food.
Ashley blows a raspberry. "There is never enough food, Teef."
Tifa follows her into the kitchen, and she smiles at Cloud, motioning for him to follow. He hesitates before he slowly making his way behind them.
Ashley notices his presence once she sets the tray down in what she deems an acceptable spot on the counter.
"Oh, Strife!" she exclaims. "Tifa told me you were coming, but I didn't believe her."
Tifa sighs at her. "Cloud comes around when he wants to," she says. "Right, Cloud?"
He shrugs. "Yeah. There was no way I could miss your party, Ashley."
Ashley purses her lips at him, placing her hands on her hips. "It's an honor, truly."
Cloud smirks. "I'll be sure to sell all my illicit drugs while I'm here."
Ashley's cheeks redden at that. "Tifa told you?"
Tifa ducks her head, sending Cloud a light glare. He smiles at her in response.
"I…thought it was funny," Tifa admits. "I had to tell him you thought that."
Ashley shakes her head, sighing. "Okay, well, yeah. Don't sell your drugs, Strife."
"I'll try to keep my business discreet," he says.
Ashley huffs, grabbing a red solo cup and scooping a generous amount of punch from the bowl. "Hilarious. Honestly, I don't know what Tifa sees in you."
"Lucky me," Cloud says.
Cloud glances at her when he says it, and Tifa blushes, looking away.
"Ugh," Ashley answers, beginning to walk out of the room. "I'll be in the living room, Teef. Come join us when you wanna!" She points at Cloud. "And you, don't bother."
Cloud only smirks at her back as she leaves. Tifa's mouth parts. "Ashley! She's usually so nice."
"Not to me," Cloud says, shrugging at her. "Ever since the Mitch fiasco, she's hated my guts because I was right about him cheating."
"Oh, that's ridiculous." Tifa huffs. "I thought she was over that. She never mentioned anything."
"Probably because she knows we're friends," he says, coming to stand beside her at the counter. He leans against it.
"Maybe you're right." She bites her lip, looking up at him. "I'm sorry. I hope that doesn't bother you."
"You know it doesn't," he smirks. "I couldn't give a shit."
"Cloud," she reprimands, shaking her head. "Of course you don't."
They decide to grab a few cups and fill it with the punch, sipping on it and hanging out in the kitchen with each other.
"They don't usually have alcohol at this party," Tifa tells him, glancing at the entrance of the kitchen as more and more people arrive. A few slip in and out of the room, grabbing a snack or a drink, chatting with each other. The music thumps in the background and covers most of the conversation between the groups. "Ashley told me she was going to do her best to get some, since it's the last party she's going to host. She called it the last chance at celebrating together." Tifa shakes her head. "We still have graduation."
"You gonna drink any?" he asks her, giving her a raised eyebrow in question.
Tifa's thought about this a few times over the week. To drink or not to drink? She knows the peer pressure is going to be nearly intolerable. She'll more than likely take one gulp of whatever Ashley gets her hands on, but she can't drink any more than that. She promised her dad.
She glances up at Cloud as he takes a pull from his cup. She's only gotten tipsy once, with Ashley, Ronnie, and a few other of the cheerleading troupe after a football game. It had made her intensely giggly, lighter, bubbly, and not much else.
What if she got like that around Cloud? He'd probably think she was a loony. Or very weird. She's not sure. She doesn't know how he'd react to her.
"I dunno," she answers eventually. "Ashley is persuasive. Probably a sip or two, but I don't want to drink any more than that."
"You don't have to if you don't want to," Cloud says, tilting his head. "Just because Ashley wants you to join her doesn't mean you have to say yes."
"I know," Tifa says, sighing. "Will you drink?"
"Nah," he says. "Not at a party like this."
"Why?" she asks. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"
"A little," he shrugs. "Drinking isn't my thing."
"Oh," Tifa says, leaning closer. "What is your thing?"
"Drugs, obviously." He smiles at her.
"That's right. Let me know when you want to do a line in the bathroom," she teases.
He scoffs a laugh, glancing out into the crowd amassing in the kitchen. "My thing is people watching."
Tifa looks at him, curiosity burgeoning within her again. She didn't know this.
"People watching?"
"Yeah," he says, gesturing to a group in front of them. "Like that guy? He's been trying to decide on what to put on his plate for about five minutes."
Tifa laughs. "Really?" She follows his gesture. She finds the person in question almost immediately. She watches as he struggles for a minute more before finally taking a large handful of chocolates.
"And that girl?" Cloud says, indicating a girl near the wall, talking to a boy. "I'm guessing she's probably been trying to break up with him for the past ten minutes."
Tifa blinks, watching the girl, Becca—from her history class—standing by her boyfriend, Charlie. They've been dating for two years, a significant time almost unheard of in most high school relationships. But…breaking up?
Tifa watches them for the next half minute, realizing that Cloud might be right. She takes a sharp breath. "I can't believe it!" she whispers loudly when she sees Charlie's face begin to crumble. "I thought they'd stay together forever."
Cloud merely shrugs. "High school, right? What lasts?"
Tifa looks up at him, feeling a clawing, sudden burn of hope, and the word to answer his question.
Us.
She takes a big slurp of her punch to staunch the thought. When she swallows, she frowns and says, "Not a lot."
A moment later, Tifa hears her name being screamed from the living room.
"Teeeefaaaaa! Get in here! Our song is on!"
Tifa cringes at her name before laughing. It sounds like Miranda, another of her cheerleading troupe. She turns to Cloud. "I think I have to go or else they'll drag me. Wanna come?"
"Uh…sure," he says, pushing off the counter. She smiles and finds a pathway through the kitchen, Cloud following behind her. When they get nearer to the living room, Cloud says, "I'll be here," stopping at the edge of the open space of the room. Tifa frowns a little.
"Are you sure?"
"Definitely," he answers.
She hesitates for a long few seconds before nodding. "But…okay. I'll be right back."
Cloud shakes his head. "You don't have to babysit me, Tifa. I'll be fine here."
"But—" she tries.
"Have fun," he says, pointing behind her. She goes to turn, only for a hand to grip her wrist, pulling her toward the couch.
"There you are!" Miranda cries, stuffing her on the couch with the other girls. "Where have you been!"
Tifa gets pulled into the tide of her girlfriends' arms, absorbed and altogether ensconced by them. It always happens this way, her attention being diverted by multiple people, the conversation fast and wild and humorous and lively.
She looks up over them, catching Cloud's eye across the room whenever she can. She's always met by one of his softer smiles or she'll see him doing his people watching, solitary against the wall, leaning so casually he might as well be part of Ashley's house decorations.
Sometimes, she'll begin staring, the conversation a muddle surrounding her, only to be snapped out of it by a squeal or a screech.
Tifa tries to make excuses to find her way back to Cloud—to at least check in and not babysit, as he had called it—but she is pulled and tugged in a thousand different directions, the conversations diverted, more people crowding around, louder music, heavier laughter.
Before Tifa knows it, she loses sight of Cloud within the hour.
She glances around, disentangling herself from the different groups of people. She can't seem to find him anywhere. He's not against the wall, he isn't in a corner, he's not hiding away in a little niche of his own away from everyone.
Tifa pulls out her phone and opens up his contact. She debates texting him. Should she ask where he is? Or ask if he's surviving the night? Her fingers hover over the keys, and she sighs. She's uncertain if she should. He might not even want to be bothered. He would find her if he wanted her, wouldn't he? She slips her phone back into her dress pocket, continuing to feel woefully undecided before she is tugged into another conversation.
The next time she sees him, he isn't looking for her.
He's looking at Ronnie.
She is standing close to him by the wall Tifa had searched moments before, grinning and blushing up at him.
Tifa's stomach plummets at the sight. She loses her breath momentarily, watching as Cloud looks and seems blasé and apathetic, his normal expression when he's trying to hide something.
Ronnie runs a hand through her hair, and Cloud watches her fingers tangle within it. Ronnie says something, and Cloud smirks. He shakes his head, looking off to the side into the bodies scattered in the room.
Tifa waits for his glance, for his eyes to catch on hers. Something.
They don't. Cloud says another thing, and Ronnie grins, her head falling back in a laugh. Cloud isn't reacting much, but Tifa thinks this might be his bravado. His show. He more than likely said something clever, sarcastic, and witty, like he always does. Why'd she ever think he'd struggle? Just because he doesn't like crowds, and just because he doesn't care about talking to people doesn't mean he can't enjoy himself without her. It doesn't mean he can't be good at conversation and…flirting.
Perhaps it had been the other way around. She didn't think she'd enjoy herself without him.
"So, Tifa, you wanna come with us to get the goods?" Ashley asks, nudging her in her side.
Tifa looks up, seeing Ashley's devious smile. The goods are code for alcohol.
Honestly, the question couldn't have arrived soon enough. In the moment, she doesn't even care about the promise she made to her father.
She absently thinks of Mrs. Bouchard and the old detention essay, about breaking and keeping promises. She nearly laughs.
"Yes," Tifa answers.
Ashley grins and slips her hand into Tifa's, pulling her away from the room and away from the beautiful, flirtatiously olive skin of Ronnie.
Away from Cloud's nonchalance.
Away from the curling grip on her stomach.
Tifa is paraded around like a favorite toy.
She is pulled to a group of people, or a single person, talks for a minute or two before she's traded to another.
She laughs, she smiles, she shrugs, she rolls her eyes. She places her hands on her hips and scolds a few of the football players. She glances around, and she might be looking for him, but her eyes never seem to land on him before she's directed into another conversation.
Cloud doesn't mind it. Her cheeks are rosy, and she looks happy and content when she speaks. It's only when she breaks off, finally on her own, when the glow around her fades. Her lips fall into a frown, and she glances around the room, searching. Cloud is about to push off the wall and go to her when someone says his name.
"Cloud?"
He stops, glancing behind him. It's a girl. He's seen her a few times before around campus. She hangs around Tifa, too.
"Uh, yeah?" he asks.
"Veronica," she says, smiling. "Everyone calls me Ronnie. I'm friends with Tifa."
"Oh," he answers. "Yeah. Hey."
She leans against the wall beside him. Cloud holds back a sigh, looking at Tifa. She's looking at her phone, now, biting her lip.
"I never see you at these kinds of parties," Ronnie says, and Cloud redirects his attention to her.
"That's because I'm never at them," Cloud deadpans.
She is undeterred by his blunt response. "I knew you were a loner," she smiles. She runs a hand through her hair, her fingers disappearing into the void of it. There are so many strands, Cloud isn't sure how she manages to unravel it from her fingers. "It's kind of badass."
Cloud's never thought of being a loner being synonymous with badass. He smirks.
"Badass to hate people?"
Ronnie laughs, her head lolling back. Her neck is thin, her throat long and shimmery, as if she had put some kind of glowing powder on herself. When she looks back at him, her eyes are a light, green-brown color, bright and mischievous, and Cloud never really talks to any girls he thinks are pretty. He supposes she could count as pretty, but he's experienced beauty in a different form. In the moment, he realizes that it's ruined him—or maybe, has helped him—for these types of interactions. He's not nervous at all, when once he'd be anxious and tongue tied. He doesn't care about what she has to tell him. Cloud thinks she might be trying to flirt with him, and he can't make himself feel anything but the desperation for it to end.
He glances off to the side in the hopes that it will deter her. It doesn't.
"Yeah, it is. It's also kind of hot," she says.
Cloud raises a brow. She's being so blatant, leaning closer to him. He leans back.
"Not…really," he tries, not sure what else to say.
"It's mysterious," she says, her lips curling up into a smile. "I've been at school with you for years, and I've never spoken this much to you before."
There's a reason for it, he thinks. He takes a sip of his newly replenished drink.
"Probably because I wasn't interested," he says.
Ronnie continues smiling. Cloud shifts his weight, glancing off into the room again. He notices a few bodies moving quickly between the crowds, and he realizes it's Tifa when he spies the navy blue dress and the sparkle of her Christmas wreath earrings. He watches as she disappears into a side hallway with a couple of other girls.
"Well, what are you interested in?" she asks him, tilting her head up. Her eyes are large and wide, and she pouts her lips.
She's trying to be cute, Cloud thinks, blinking. She is flirting with him.
"Uh…" he says. "Someone else."
At that, her smile immediately falls into a frown. "What?"
Cloud shrugs, taking another drink for something to do. "I'm interested in someone else. I don't wanna waste your time. Find another guy."
With that, he pushes off the wall and immerses himself into the crowd, getting away from her as quickly as possible. He glances back after a moment to make sure she isn't following him. He breathes easy when he sees that she isn't.
He sighs before he groans, running a hand over his face. He looks around for Tifa again, but he doesn't see her. He loiters and lingers around, listening to the whistles and the rambunctious hollers of the party, sees a few of the boys bring in six packs of beer and one smuggling in a bottle of bourbon and pouring it into the eggnog.
The party begins to deteriorate into a messier, wilder shade, the later hours calling for pranks and games and the real face of the night.
Someone begins to place mistletoe above every single doorway on the first floor. Some boys, already drunk, pull a girl to them and kiss them, the crowd around them erupting into whoops and catcalls.
Others begin dancing with uncoordinated abandon, dragging friends with them. Few hide in the shadows and continue kissing, spurred on by the actions under the mistletoe.
Cloud watches it begin to unfold, remembering why he despises parties. How could he forget?
Eventually, Tifa reappears into the room with Ashley and two other girls. Her cheeks are red and glowing, and she's laughing, then she's giggling at something Ashley says, and then she's laughing some more.
Cloud eyes Ashley and the other girl, who are both chittering to each other, too close with their lips in their ears, acting just about as drunk as Cloud's seen anyone. Ashley slurps from her cup, and Cloud immediately knows they ran off to drink with each other.
He moves his eyes back to Tifa, and he gazes on as she stumbles but rights herself quickly. One of the boys shouts her name, gripping her wrists and pulling her to dance with him.
At first, Tifa shakes her head, placing a hand on her cheek. Then she begins to allow the boy to lead her into a ridiculous rhythm, and she laughs more than dances. She steps around him and around other people, somehow graceful with her limbs loosened and full of alcoholic fervor. She doesn't last long with the boy who grabbed her—John, Cloud realizes. One of her old boyfriends. John watches Tifa closely—closer than Cloud likes—and he grins, moving to jump back into the dance with Tifa as she gets further and further away from him.
Tifa shakes her head at him, but she laughs. This only seems to spur John on, and he has the audacity to place his palm on the small of her back, attempting to lead her toward him. Tifa flits away, and Cloud realizes how tense he is once she's freed herself from John's grasp, calling something over to him. John blushes, and Tifa grins, glancing around the room. Whatever she had said halts John where he stands, and Cloud smirks, finally relaxing against the wall. Then he thinks better of it, standing up straighter and following behind Tifa as she meanders through the room. She's quick—Cloud has a hard time keeping up with her as she weaves and dodges elbows and flying limbs. Cloud has to duck on occasion, endlessly amused by the chase.
Tifa taps a person's shoulder, asking something. Unsatisfied by their answers, Tifa carries on to the next person, and the next, giving Cloud more chance to reach her.
When he gets close enough, Cloud hears his name.
"Hey, have you seen Cloud?" Tifa shouts above the music.
His stomach flips, and he can't help his smile as he comes up behind her.
"Me?" he says.
Tifa whirls around, nearly losing her balance. Cloud automatically reaches out to steady her.
As soon as her eyes land on him, her eyes alight, and she blasts him with a grin. It reminds him of sunbeams, it's so blinding.
"Cloud!" she yells. "There you are!"
She pounces on him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her chest rams into him, and he loses his breath, his arms coming around her to accept immediately, stepping a foot back and hitting someone behind them.
"You were looking?" he asks.
"Of course I was!" she says, pulling away. She places her hands on her hips. "I lost you earlier, then I found you, but…" she shakes her head. "Anyway. Hi."
Cloud blinks at her words. They fall out of her fast and slurred. "Hi. I was looking for you, too."
She looks utterly too pleased by this. "You were?"
"Yeah," he says. "But I saw Ashley taking you somewhere."
"Oh…" she answers, and as she stares up at him, he sees her eyes beginning to fog over. Abruptly, she grabs his hand. "Hey, c'mere."
She tugs on him. He can do nothing but follow behind her.
"Tifa, what are you—" he starts.
"Nothing, I just wanted to talk to you," she says, leading them to an empty space by the wall. It's along the hallway, most people congregating nearer the middle of the room. The lighting is dimmer, holding an orange, amber hue surrounding them. Off to their right is an alcove that leads to the stairs and a guest room. To their left opens up the kitchen, and it feels like music is spilling out from all the cracks in the house, swirling around them like a blanket.
She turns him so that his back is against the wall, and she stands in front of him. Her mouth is still holding a beatific smile, and the orange glow highlights the ridges of her cheeks and the softness of her features. Cloud loses his breath at the sight.
I'm ruined, he thinks again.
"So…you wanted to talk?" he croaks, eyeing her smile.
"Yes. Cloud," she says, placing an open palm against his chest. His name is velvety against her mouth, alcohol soaking them and wrapping around him like a vice. "I wanted to tell you…I like you."
She says it with heavy meaning, but the drink interlacing her words makes him question her seriousness. He quirks a brow at her, willing his heart to relax.
"Uh, yeah, Tifa," he says, placing his hand on top of hers. It is warm and magnificent against his chest. "We're friends."
"Yes, but I like you," she says again, her fingernails curling into the cotton of his shirt. "Oh," she says, noticing his hand on hers. "I like your hand, too. I like when you hold it. I want to hold it more."
"Tifa," he starts, glancing around the room before he eyes her, watching her movements. "What did Ashley make you drink? Spiked eggnog?"
She smiles, wrinkling her nose."No. I had wine. It's gross. I don't know why people drink it for fun."
"Oh. Yeah," he says, absently running his thumb across her knuckles. He stops when he realizes what he's doing. Her grip doesn't relent. "She was too persuasive, huh?"
Tifa shakes her head. When she looks up at him, her eyes are glassy. "No. Not that. They say it gives you courage. I wanted to see if it was true."
He frowns. "Why'd you need courage?"
Her lips spread in a slow, deliberate smile. She points to something above them, off to the side. "So I could ask if you wanted to kiss me under the mistletoe."
Cloud follows the line of her finger, seeing the offending plant. He is suddenly hit with her real meaning.
I like you.
"I…Tifa…" he stutters, his heart beginning to fly behind his chest. "You want me to kiss you?"
"Mm," she hums, leaning into him. "Under the mistletoe. So it doesn't have to mean anything. You know? We can stay friends instead."
Cloud blinks, trying to understand her. He's breathless."So it doesn't have to mean anything?"
She nods. "Yes. So we can stay friends. So we can kiss and go back to normal. So you can…I dunno. Do what you wanna do."
His eyebrows furrow deeper. His heart pounds so hard that it aches. "That's…what you want? To…stay friends?"
She bites her lip. She seems to contemplate her answer with all the heaviness she can muster. Cloud watches her face, nearly seeing her decision come to it's conclusion. When she looks up at him again, something stirs behind her eyes. There is so much certainty in them, they cut into him like glass.
"No," she says. She digs her hand harder into his shirt before she releases it, opening her palm. She drags it down his stomach, and Cloud's breath hitches.
"No," she repeats herself. "I want to kiss you all the time."
She reaches up with her other hand before Cloud can fully absorb her words. She wraps her palm around his neck and pulls him down.
That's the first time Cloud kisses Tifa. He will never forget it.
Her fingers thread into the hair at the nape of his neck. Her other hand slides up from his stomach to his chest to his shoulder, the path it makes a fiery trail. Her touch is mesmerizing, but it is only a supplement to her lips.
It's the way she presses him so closely against her, her body curving and settling into his edges and lines, molding to fit. Her lips are soft and slick, warm and terribly enticing and rich and wonderful, and she kisses him with an intensity he's never known before. It reminds him of the itch he has to create his pictures—of sprinting up a hill to see the sunrise—but it's so much more than that.
His hands land on her hips before they slip around her back. She makes a little moan into his mouth, and Cloud sees nothing but stars.
So many stars, like she's punching the daylights out of him. He almost feels sick from the indulgence of it—from the tentative touch of her tongue, how it evolves into a bolder and messier fight with his own. They attempt to get closer and closer, Tifa pressing and pressing, Cloud grasping at her hips and tilting his head. How to get closer, he thinks. Wanting. Knowing.
He needs to be closer.
"Tifa!" someone shouts behind them. It tries to break through the fog of pleasure in Cloud's mind, but he ignores it, not wanting to end it. "Oh, my god, Tifa!"
She breaks away from him at that, but she doesn't turn around. Instead, she stays near him, their chests heaving and pulsing as they catch their breath. She looks up at him, her lips nearly as dark red as her eyes, swollen and parted. All of her lip gloss is gone, replaced with the wetness of kisses.
Her gaze punctures his lungs. They are half-lidded and resplendent. She stares at him and he stares back before she turns to glance over her shoulder. Cloud can't seem to let her go, keeping his hands around her waist as she answers her caller.
It's Ashley who stands there, her hands on her hips and her eyes wide and disbelieving.
"You and…and Strife? Are you serious, Tifa?" Ashley splutters, looking back and forth between them.
Her words wouldn't bother him had it only been directed at him. Since it's Tifa she's talking to, Cloud begins to scowl. He tightens his arms around her.
"Yes," Tifa simply says. Cloud's anger lifts in a sudden release. "I'm serious."
Cloud's lips begin to pull up in a smirk. He watches Ashley's face become red.
"Well, um, okay! I'm just…I didn't know how drunk you were."
Tifa smiles and says nothing. Cloud feels stares on them throughout the room. He glances around to find Mitch not so discreetly eyeing them. He sees a few of the other football players looking pointedly away.
His eyes even catch on Ronnie's before she blushes, her eyes dashing quickly down to the floor.
The rest are still dancing to the music, holding their red solo cups aloft, and not giving a fuck about anything around them.
Some couples hide in corners, making out.
Before a few minutes ago, Cloud would have sneered, not understanding why they couldn't take their public affection elsewhere so one one else had to experience their sloppy, disgusting intimacy.
Now, Cloud gets it.
Tifa turns back into his arms. Her chest presses into his again, and she says, "I didn't kiss you just because I'm tipsy. I kissed you because I wanted to."
He pushes his forehead against hers. He can smell the sweet tang of wine on her breath. "You didn't need to drink to kiss me. You could have just asked."
She makes a noise. "No. I definitely needed it."
Cloud huffs a laugh. Everything about her is so unendingly, tragically wonderful, and his mind reels at the fact that she wanted to kiss him, and that he's holding her, and that there is a seal of heat between their bodies.
"I like you, too," he whispers.
"Oh," she breathes, pressing into him further. Cloud can feel the softness of her, cushioned by her sweater dress. It is unexplainable and divine. "Good," she smiles. "I think you kissed all the alcohol out of me."
Smirking, he says, "Did I?"
She nods, bumping his nose with hers. "Yeah. I think so. I dunno," she says, dipping her lips closer. They graze one another, and Cloud squeezes her waist.
"If you still don't know, I guess we need to make sure," he says, tilting his head further and kissing her again. She accepts it fervently, and her mouth is so hot, her breath so dark, Cloud thinks he could live here forever. His hands roam along her back. Her fingers lock around his neck. Cloud's belly coils and tightens, and as they continue to press into each other, there is a delicate, blissful burning as they rub and shift.
Tifa makes a small little moan, and whispers, "My dad's out of town on a business trip."
Cloud's ponderous heartbeat begins to ricochet.
"If you want to leave," she murmurs. "Not that—I mean, I wasn't trying to suggest—"
"Yeah. Let's go," he interrupts her, overtaken by the prospect of being alone. With her. In her bedroom.
Tifa huffs a breath, staring at him. "Okay. Let's go."
Their hands intertwine, and this time, Cloud leads her to the front door. His strides are purposeful and unrelenting. He feels as though if he doesn't move quick enough, this will all shatter like one of his dreams.
He'll open his eyes and wake up.
But he doesn't. Not as he opens the door to her passenger seat, and not as he takes his spot behind the wheel. Not as they drive down the few blocks to her house. Not as Tifa touches his arm and his palm and fingertips, distracting him, making him taut and nervous and sick again—so sick in the best way.
Not even as they park in her driveway.
He turns the key, shutting off the engine, before he hesitates. He looks at her, saying, "Tifa," but he stops.
She's already looking at him, unbuckling her seatbelt before sitting up on her knees, leaning over the middle console. She kisses him, reaching up with her right hand to cup his face.
He grunts from the suddenness of it, one hand landing on her ribcage. He can feel the base of her heart fluttering beneath it, and he realizes belatedly how close his thumb is to the underside of her breast. He freezes, his hand stilling, his entire body reacting to the kiss and the caress of her hands.
"Oh, Cloud," she mumbles against his lips. "You can touch me." She presses her other hand on top of his, and it is pulsing and electric. It's the piano lesson all over again, except more. Always more. As she kisses him, she brings his hand up to cup her breast. She breathes out shakily as his palm holds her, vocalizing a small, tortured whine. Cloud stills before he comes back to life, gently squeezing and running his thumb along her, memorizing the sensation. She is soft and heavy, and he can feel the gentle pucker of her skin encased in cotton.
"This is okay?" he asks between kisses.
"Yes," she hisses. "This is very okay."
She is a storm over him. She tilts her head, pressing her lips so hard, their teeth clack together. He groans at the feeling and blindly reaches for the chair's latch, pushing it back and giving them more space. She doesn't notice or seem to care, continuing to wind her arms around him and pull him viciously into her.
She gasps against him, kissing him, their mouths opening, tongues solid and slick as they slip against each other's. Cloud gently tugs at her hip with his other hand, and Tifa breaks away from his lips for a moment, maneuvering herself over the console.
There is not a lot of room in her car, but with the readjustment of the chair, it's enough for her to straddle his lap. He is nearly knocked unconscious by the welcome of her legs and by the length of her arms around his neck. She sizzles against him, so petite but powerful.
His back presses hard into the seat, and he is wrapped up in her body. One hand still on her breast and the other falling to her bottom. He experiments, grabbing the fullness of her butt, and her hips rock forward. She moans, and his breath comes out thick and weighty.
"Cloud…we'll have…more room…in the house," she whispers between kisses.
"Yeah…" he huffs, reluctant to let her go. "Okay…we can…"
She turns and reaches for the door handle, pushing the door open. As she turns her head, her neck is on full display, and he doesn't think about it as he leans forward to kiss her underneath her jaw.
She moans, stopping her movements. "Cloud." She wraps her hands around his head to keep him there. "Mm."
"Tifa," he growls, his voice thick and foreign to his ears. "I've liked you a long time."
He's not sure what makes him confess. It must be the thick onslaught of emotion. Tifa Lockhart, in his lap. That'll make him confess to anything.
She makes a sweet little whine. "Me, too."
He kisses her neck for a while longer before a chill sweeps into the car. She tightens her legs around him, and Cloud finally manages, "Okay, let's go inside."
They unravel from each other, but they stay close as they walk up to the front door. Tifa takes out her key and stumbles with it for a moment, Cloud placing his hands on her hips, standing behind her.
"I—you're—" she starts, finally pushing the door open. "I've, um, never done this before."
"Me either," he admits, following her inside. He shuts the door and locks it, staring at her as she turns toward him. "I…uh…"
She begins blushing. Her hair is in a wild tangle around her head. It is a frenzied halo from their kissing. Her dress is rumpled, creased around the hem.
Cloud is at once terrified and at complete ease. His heart is hammering, and his hands are shaking, but he can't imagine being here with anyone else, standing in a dark entryway of a house and feeling the strain of want against his jeans and in his stomach.
He strides forward and kisses her, wrapping his hands around her waist. "We'll figure it out," he whispers. "We can do whatever you want. Uh, or…maybe not everything, but…"
Tifa giggles against his lips. "You're right. We'll figure it out. C'mon."
She slides her hands to his wrist and pulls him toward her staircase. They run up the steps, fingers interlaced, and she leads him to her bedroom. She closes her door behind them, and there is something tantalizingly final about the action. Goosebumps raise on Cloud's neck, and his eyes roam around her darkened room, catching on a few decorations—pictures and posters, a few shoes up against the wall—before his attention is immediately diverted, Tifa coming up to kiss him again.
They fall back onto the bed in their vigor, and Tifa laughs into him. He smiles before he's overcome by their position with each other, Tifa's body pressing into him from her mouth to her thighs. Her legs butterfly out around his hips, and there is no ounce of space in between them. The heat is beginning to boil, and while her room is nearly frigid from the cold December evening, Cloud only feels the rush of hot blood in his stomach.
When they rub together at their hips, Cloud sees a white burst of pleasure across his eyes. He rolls them over, pressing her into the mattress, and begins to kiss her neck, again. He is suddenly gaining a favorite part to kiss on her body other than her lips. Then he begins to wonder about the rest of her—about all the things he had thought in his bed, on occasion, or when he'd draw her. When he'd create the swell of her breasts or the sleek lines of her legs. The showers he had to take to relieve himself. The embarrassing reactions from his body at the mere thought of her sleeping beside him in his bed.
"Cloud," she hums. "Have you ever…um…"
He eases up from her at her hesitation. Her eyes are half-lidded, but she darts her eyes away from his stare.
"This is an embarrassing question," she mumbles.
He smiles. "Ask me."
Her chest heaves underneath him, and he resists the urge to kiss her again.
"Have you ever…watched porn?"
At that, he smirks and comes forward, kissing her below her jaw again. "Yeah."
Her legs spread a bit wider underneath him, and she sighs in his ear. "O-oh."
"Have you?"
"…um, once."
He pulls back. "Tifa, you've watched porn?"
He's mostly teasing her. Her cheeks redden, and she shakes her head at him.
"Just once!"
"Why only once?" he asks, kissing below her ear. She fidgets before she relaxes again.
"It…felt wrong to do it. You know?"
"No," he answers. "It never felt wrong to me."
She huffs a little sigh again, and Cloud watches her, smiling, while she shifts underneath him.
"Did you not like it?" he asks, his bashfulness about the subject completely overruled by her reactions.
"I—no, I mean, I did like it! I think. I don't know, it was weird, right?" she says quickly, stumbling over her words. She closes her eyes and looks away from him.
"Maybe," he says, attempting to catch her eye. "What kind did you watch?"
"I-I don't know, the normal kind?" she stutters. "It was…like we are."
The thought immediately has Cloud imagining them both naked, becoming closer and closer and closer.
When Tifa catches his eyes, her embarrassment is bright and loud in her stare. The longer they do, the embarrassment begins to fade. It is a slow decline, and Cloud's smirk vanishes from his face. Her eyes begin to shine, the brightness turning sharper. Her mouth parts and she bites the inside of her lip. Cloud can see her reaching his level of desire.
The embarrassment is soon gone altogether.
"That's not weird," he breathes.
She leans up, but she gently pushes him back. "H-hang on," she says. "Let me do something."
She brings her legs out from around him, pushing her dress up slightly before reaching underneath it, tugging and pulling. Cloud blinks, nearly dying as he sees her remove the slip of her underwear and throwing it on the floor.
Then she lies back, placing herself in the same position she had been moments before. Cloud is still sitting up, his neck flooding with his heartbeat, his gaze darting to the hem of her dress now around the tops of her thighs, and knowing she is bare underneath.
"I…uh," he says, swallowing. Her chest heaves with another deep breath, and she reaches up and brings him down to her, kissing him over and over.
"Tifa…" he drawls. "Do you…want me to…"
Her hand falls down his arm to his hand. Their fingers curl together before she looks up at him.
"Um, you can…touch me, if you want," she says, placing his hand on her thigh, along the area of where her tights end, and where her dress hem still resides, teasing. "I mean, if you…not that I…"
He kisses her, his thumb caressing the smooth skin of her thigh. "I wanna touch you, Tifa."
Her breath is shaky as she nods, holding his face close to hers. "O-okay."
His hand slips underneath her dress. He trembles a little, feeling his heartbeat thrumming in his fingertips, and he feels the almost painful pressure in his jeans, but this.
Tifa underneath him, her eyes half-closed, tense and shuddering against his hand, shatters any and all visions he had of this in his dreams.
"Teach me what you like," he says. "Because I don't…I don't really know anything."
"I don't know what I like," she admits. "But I…I um, know one thing."
She reaches down and places her hand on top of his, gently sliding him up against skin he's never felt before. He breathes out when his fingers immerse in the warmth, there, so different and lively, hot and immense.
She whimpers, and her eyes close as she places him against a spot. It is tight and puckered against the pad of his fingers. She gasps when they land there together, and she lets her hand linger for a moment before taking it away.
"There. That spot. That's what I know," she whispers, and her hips sway with his pressure. He's almost afraid to move his hand, but he's enthralled with how her body reacts, sliding his fingers toward and away from the area she showed him. Her head extends back, neck long and smooth under the moonlight. It presses into the pillow, and her eyes flutter open to connect with his.
He watches her expression as he slides his fingers against her skin. The lower he goes, the wetter his fingers become, and she inhales sharply when he strokes up again, slick and frictionless.
It is almost like when he draws, he thinks. He fills in the spaces with his lines. He visualizes a picture and details it, shading and cross-hatching the shadows, bringing to life what he's admired and seen, his emotions and feelings and expressions. He observes the pinch in Tifa's eyebrows, the tip of her tongue underlying her front teeth, how she catches eyes with him occasionally, gasping when she does, her hips lifting when he hits her with more pressure. Cloud ducks forward, kissing the column of her neck and tasting the few beads of sweat that have formed above her collarbone.
"Cloud…" she whispers. One hand reaches behind his head. The other blindly grabs at the comforter surrounding her, gripping and squeezing. Her nails snag against it.
"You okay?" he asks.
"Yes," she mutters, succinct and sharp. "I'm…mm."
Cloud continues stroking her underneath her dress, and he brings his other hand up, following the line of her thigh to her hip, his palm coming around her ribcage.
She begins making noises Cloud has never heard before. They are guttural, as though they are clawing their way from deep inside. Cloud bites her neck, and she bucks her hips, panting louder and louder.
Cloud reaches further with his other hand, finding her bra. He hooks a finger underneath it, hitting soft, smooth skin, and Tifa curls up, pushing her chest into his palm.
"Cloud…I'm feeling…" she starts, her voice spilling out of her at a higher pitch. "Oh…I don't know."
Cloud strokes his fingers higher to hit that taut, tense pucker of skin. Tifa keens.
"Right there?" he asks, and her face pinches, pressing into the pillow.
"Y-yes," she says. "Don't—don't stop."
He feels her inner thighs beginning to tremble. He follows the press of her hips, and he circles around the spot, over and over. Her eyes open once to find his, and it's the way she looks with her mouth slightly parted, her neck corded and her cheeks flushed, eyes blurred with incredible pleasure, that makes Cloud nearly lose it, too.
Her eyes fall shut in a moment, and her thighs close tight around his hand. Her legs roll to one side, and she brings her hands up to her face. Cloud regrets missing her expression as she hides herself, but the arch of her back and the cry she makes is enough to satisfy him for weeks.
He slowly slips his hand away, and she loosens the tight squeeze of her thighs. She breathes heavily, catching her breath. Cloud wipes his hand on his jeans, aching and dizzy from the entire ordeal.
"Cloud," she whispers, her voice husky and rich, and it's like how she said it when she taught him at the piano. She pushes herself up, and he realizes her arms are a little shaky as she reaches for him. She pulls him in close, kissing him deeply. "I've never felt that before in my life."
She goes to sit in his lap, kissing him again. She wraps her body around him, just like they had been in the car. Cloud thinks he might break the zipper in his jeans from how unbelievably aroused he is.
"I…uh…good," he stutters lamely, too distracted by the vision of her body crumbling underneath his fingers and the friction of her in his lap.
She must know, because she drags a hand down the front of his shirt. Her hand lands boldly on the button of his pants.
"Do you…I mean, um, what about what you like?" she asks, her cheeks still rosy, but her eyes vibrant and full. "Can I make you feel that way, too?"
Cloud sighs sharply. "Fuck, Tifa," he says, smashing their lips together. "I bet you'd just have to touch me once before I lose it."
She laughs, and it is throaty and elegant, and—and—Cloud thinks he's on his way to a heart attack.
"I wanna touch you, too," she says, and she flicks her fingers on his button, undoing it. She reaches the zipper and tugs it down. Immediately, she slips her hand underneath the band of his boxers, and Cloud groans, jerking back. He holds himself up on his elbows, unable to keep his eyes open.
"I—ah—Tifa…" he tries, breathing heavily. "Please, I…"
"What do you like?" she asks, and her hands squeeze him, staring at his arousal, and Cloud is blinded. He closes his eyes again.
"J-just…um…" he starts, but he's unable to say anything. Instead, he curls his hand around hers, and he begins to move them together.
"Like this?" she whispers, her grip tightening under his direction. He nearly chokes as she finds a rhythm, so easily. So simply.
"Yeah," he says, letting her go. He watches her fondle him, rubbing the pleasure into him, and his heart gallops against his sternum. He's beginning to feel that burning sickness, again, that ache, that endless build. He loses his breath, and when he doesn't think anything could get better, Tifa's other hand comes up and reaches underneath his shirt. He feels her hand cresting over his stomach, and he hisses at the dual contact.
"T-Tifa," he says, and it sounds like he's begging. He's not really sure what he's begging for, only that he's covered by that deep-rooted bliss.
She pushes up his shirt until at least half his torso is on display, and while she's still caressing him, she leans forward to kiss his stomach. He feels his hips lift. He reaches up to grip a hand in his hair, roughly running his palm through it.
"I—" he tries.
"I love your body, Cloud," she says, and she finds his hip bone, parting her lips and giving it a deep suck, her tongue pressing into him. Cloud sees stars for the second time that night. They infiltrate his vision.
This is it, he thinks. This is the end.
His stomach clenches under her touch. He groans. "I'm—I'm going to—"
He holds it back as best he can. It's only when she lifts her lips from his hip and moves to his arousal that he grips the sheets desperately. She does something he'll never forget.
She kisses the tip of him.
That's all it takes for Cloud to lose it completely, the stars to burst along his eyes, and the tightest coil in his stomach to unravel, all over him and all over her hand. She smiles, not minding in the least. She leans over to kiss his mouth.
That's the first time Cloud and Tifa truly touch each other.
It is far from the last.