A/N: I wanted to make a few shouts outs. First, to the continued support of my beta AntiOtaku for keeping me on the right path and popping in a suggestion every now and then to help the flow. Also to BouncyMouse, another ReTi author, who has acted as a sounding board for the last couple chapters. Additionally, I want to thank everyone who has read and especially taken the time to review. Because of all of you, it's given me the confidence to progress forward and avoid shelving my efforts. Thanks again and I hope you continue to enjoy this story. I'd say we are at the halfway point, but whose counting?
Different
When the high dissolved, fear still managed to creep its way in.
Reno had certainly surprised himself by opening up to her so easily. He descended into the endless gorge of his atrocities and dragged them to the surface. Much to his chagrin, he was unceremoniously tortured in his slumber. The drink typically shielded him with a blanket of darkness, but his night ended in vexatious sobriety. The deep crimson hue, the gasps and cries, the light that faded from their dying eyes - he remembered it all as it came to torment him scene by agonizing scene, the days he aimed to bury and forget. But he brought them to life, for her, so she could know exactly what she was getting herself into, by allying with the spawn of the Devil.
And as she stared into the black pit that is his soul, she did not stagger.
Tifa wanted him. When he returned the choice to her hands for her to make, the one he took away from her, the answer was more than clear. He owed it to her to see it through. More than ever, he was convinced he didn't deserve her.
Such would not be an easy task as he considered the obstacles both internally and externally they would face. Like many things within Reno's life, forward momentum with Tifa Lockhart would be damn near impossible to navigate, but he sure did enjoy a good gamble.
That didn't mean he wasn't daunted by the pressure of it all.
From the moment he'd set foot into Seventh Heaven the following evening, he felt as if everything had changed. No longer was he just the Turk that frequented the establishment for a drink and a laugh and a flirt at the barmaid behind the counter. Gone was the complete unpredictability of nabbing a female conquest to spend his primal pleasures on and toss back out into the wild. Nothing would be the same, and he wasn't sure what he thought about that just yet. Things were so early, so new, that the ground where they stood was shaky at best. Rationale told him to avoid rocking the boat, but he also knew doing so could be half the fun.
The trepidation grew, doubt beating against his rib cage as he took to his usual stool and casually surveyed the bar. It had a considerable number of customers present that night, a stark contrast from the evening before. He noted the clouds' submission to the sky was likely to thank for the increase of traffic. A repeated sight was Denzel, who was vigorously wiping tables free of residue and alcohol or whatever else may have been left behind. The boy hadn't yet seen him through the hustle and bustle, but he was sure to take notice eventually.
A couple stools away, Marlene sat with a colored pencil clinched in her hand as she peered over at him with inquisitive eyes, her face pink with peeling skin. It amused him how she barely reached the top of the counter, her tiny frame stretching to crane over the edge, but seemingly undeterred by the added challenge. Her stare didn't carry much more than general curiosity to which he found a sense of relief in.
Down the counter, he caught Tifa's gentle and coy smile as she crossed the floor to him. Already popping the cap to his preferred brew, she pressed the chilled beverage into his open palm, fingertips generously grazing his knuckles. She was gone almost as quickly as she came, his eyes following the soft sway of her hips, noting how her pleated leather skirt and white top hugged her in all the right places.
That trepidation shifted just short of titillation.
He spied Marlene again, who had moved on to her drawing from him, seemingly none the wiser to their exchange. There was no forgetting who she inevitably belonged to - the large, gun armed brute who'd happily turn his face into swiss cheese should he make one false move. He might as well have been on video surveillance with his kid within proximity, but Tifa didn't seem bothered; in fact, her smile hadn't left her mouth since she'd seen him.
Nothing felt quite right, and he really didn't know what to make of any of it.
It wasn't long before his little admirer had taken notice of his arrival, quick at his side with large blue eyes filled with wonder and expectation, abandoning his table duties for something much more interesting. Reno couldn't hide the grin as he gazed down at the anxious youth. He remembered what it felt like the first time he'd taken a swing with his baton, too.
Quick instruction was given as Reno flicked the baton to full extension. He pressed the base into Denzel's hand, sure to note to avoid the Electro-charge button at the handle. Marlene had torn her attention away from her creative endeavor to view the spectacle while Tifa, preoccupied in her bartending obligations, was too distracted to notice the tutorial.
Reno knew it was a questionable idea at best, especially in a bar with drunk, paying customers in a concentrated area. However, he'd made an agreement and he felt like he owed it to the kid to follow through. Additionally, he hadn't really thought it through at all.
With a swing to his left followed by another to his right, Denzel's smile couldn't have been more radiant as he held fast to the baton with a white knuckled grip. The arc of his swipe sliced through the air with the fluidity of a natural wielder - or at least someone who was accustomed to swinging sticks. The kid had some finesse.
The sudden, sharp crackle of the electro-charge and its short blue ribbons of electricity pushed Reno's reflexes into motion, snatching the baton away from Denzel before he made a move to accidentally do some real damage. The shock on the kids' face was either the clear indication of a mistake or from the fear that embraced him upon handling the device's powerful electric emission. However, the sudden appearance of Tifa, brows knit as concern betrayed her stern facade, interrupted any correction he may have offered. Multiple sets of eyes fell upon the scene, the casual chatter disrupted by the current issue at hand.
"What happened?" The question was pointed at Reno who was returning the weapon to the clip at his belt.
"It was my fault," Denzel admitted, a bit of shame painting his features. "I messed up and hit it by accident. I'm sorry."
Something about the admission didn't quite check out for Reno. He was a curious boy once and was a curious man at present. He was also familiar with the feeling of defiance, doing precisely what the omnipotent adults told you not to do. But he didn't see Denzel as the defiant type in the malicious sense - curiosity simply got the best of him, and his embarrassment kept him from complete honesty.
Reno could sympathize.
Whatever admonishment she'd planned to administer fell away as she knelt down before him, hands at his shoulders. "You need to be careful. You could have hurt yourself or someone else, understand?"
He nodded ruefully; his expression solemn as Tifa stood. A small hint of annoyance framed her face as she stepped back behind the bar, time short between requests. He knew it was meant for him, and he couldn't really fault her for it. Guilt seemed to come in all shapes and sizes, and Reno was experiencing a lesser known iteration of the parasite.
Marlene gazed sympathetically at Denzel as the patrons' attention returned to their private discussions. Reno turned to look at the boy with a bit of a wry grin. "You know kid, the first time I picked up this baby, she electrocuted the hell out of me."
The mortification slowly leaked from Denzel's face as the small twitch of his lips curled upward. "Really?"
"What did it feel like?" Marlene asked, her legs kicking idly as she stared at the Turk for an answer. It had to have been the first and only words she'd ever spoken to him - he was surely becoming popular with the rugrats of Seventh Heaven.
Reno remembered it well and recounted the experience with clear imagery - the scent of searing hair and flesh, the vibration rattling his bones as spasms rippled through each and every muscle he possessed, from the top of his scalp down to the tips of his toes. Teeth chattered and eyes watered as the black faded in and out of his vision. The ache it left behind was excruciating, the taste in his mouth reminiscent of burnt metal.
He left out the part where he repeated the experience several more times thereafter.
The horror on Marlene's face was evident, but the tale only seemed to brighten Denzel's with further interest. The kid was destined to be a masochist.
The children were sent to bed not long after that, having had enough excitement for the evening. They gave the Turk a wave before departing into the upper part of the house, and he couldn't help but wonder what this all meant in the grand scheme of everything else that transpired.
It was only yesterday he'd presented a piece of himself, revealing some of the darkest bits of his past to a woman determined to connect herself to him. Now he'd experienced two run-ins with her pseudo-son and Reno found himself playing the role of what could be considered the crazy uncle archetype. All too quickly his entire world was shifting into a more family friendly version, and the familiar panic that he faced too often throughout this predicament had reared its ugly head and demanded a full stop.
But he didn't want to do that either.
What did he really want?
Reno wasn't so certain anymore.
Operations eventually ended, and Tifa set off to send away the lingering customers and lock the door behind their exit. With the bar cleared, she became incredibly cognizant of the stringent uneasiness that filled the space between them. Her attention fell to Reno, adorned in his typical navy Turk suit, beer in hand still his first while the cigarette in his grip was not much more than a prop, burning away to its bud mostly of its own accord.
He surprised her initially, his interactions with the children more than cordial or necessary. Denzel's reaction to him in particular could only be explained as mesmerized, captivated by everything about him, Shinra be damned. Moving forward, she knew he would do whatever he could to see the Turk, even if his toys were forbidden.
But it was after this that Reno's aloofness thoroughly engulfed his persona. At the time, she didn't have the time to pry, but if she were honest with herself, it had everything to do with her and their current situation. She knew Reno to be a man with closely held secrets pertaining to his inner demons and personal hardships and providing her even that small window into the crevices of his heart set him far out of his comfort zone. In accepting him for who and what he was, she'd hoped that would be enough. His current state however, told another story altogether.
The parallels were well and true, indeed.
Temporarily ignoring cleanup, she sat at the bar beside him. Alone together, they both seemed as uncertain as the other. He glanced at her in between staring off into the distance, lost in his thoughts as the glaze in his eyes indicated he'd left the building. It was also very clear that they were both painfully aware of how awkward their circumstance had become, and neither really knew how to break the ice.
"You're pretty good with the kids." Her voice, quiet and tender, appeared to break Reno from his thousand-yard stare. "I didn't think you liked children."
"Doesn't this face just scream babysitter?" He smirked devilishly at her. A bit of the tension lifted from the ambiance as Tifa smiled in response. "Obviously my profession doesn't exactly put me in the middle of schoolyards, but I can't say I don't like them. They're little people who lack filters and find things like sticks and stickers fascinating." He gave her a knowing grin. "And if you don't watch them closely, they'll find multiple ways to electrocute themselves."
She looked at him pointedly, lips half curled. "Which reminds me…"
He waved a hand dismissively, "Yeah I know. Don't let Denzel fry himself. Loud and clear." The bud in his grasp had officially snuffed itself out, the wisps of smoke dissipating as the amber embers faded to grey. "How exactly did the kid...Denzel, land on your doorstep?"
Sorrow found her expression as she recalled the bittersweet memory. "He was at the Church, the one in Sector 5. He'd lost so much, just wandering before he found Cloud's bike and phone. Called here, the business phone, just needing someone, anyone to reach out to. Cloud brought him home."
Reno knew of such stories of wandering children with no home and no family to go to. Survival of the fittest became their reality, distrustful of the adults around them while simultaneously yearning for their affection. With the addition of Geostigma, many were in a seemingly hopeless situation.
He could relate on a personal level; a lifetime ago, one he never wanted to relive. "The casualties of Calamity...no one came out of that unscathed." When he cast a gaze to Tifa, her eyes had become guarded, her frame rigid. "Hey, you all right?
"Yes, I'm fine," she smiled, although it felt forced. "I'm just glad to give him a home. He's become part of my life, like a son, I guess. I'd do anything for him."
Ever the astute observer, he didn't quite buy it. However, he preferred giving her the benefit of the doubt - the topic was heavy enough.
He created a bit of levity in its place. "And you let him around me to play with weapons? Might as well be raised by wolves, yo."
Her mock dismay at his banter had him chuckling as she reached out to slap his arm. Through prior experience with her physical prowess in the battlefield, he knew she was holding back.
With the shake of her head, she directed another question at him. "What was it like, growing up for you?"
The query was innocent enough, but it instantly filled him with dread. His deep past was a place rarely visited, and for good reason. "You don't want to know about that."
Tifa fiddled with the wisps of her hair, averting her eyes from him as she did. "I do. You've told me about Shinra, some of your more subdued escapades that didn't involve...some of the more volatile results. But I don't know much about your past. You guys have a whole file on me."
His leg shook as his finger tapped against his beer nervously. The subject was locked down and highly classified as far as he was concerned, privy to only himself and Shinra executives, the latter only because they made it their business to know. "It's not pretty."
The disappointment in her face was clear, accompanied by a sigh of defeat. "I see. I understand."
Another pang of guilt hit his gut, frustration rapping against his nerves. In the end, his desire to see her smile again won out.
"I had a sister," he offered after a time, "A younger one."
Interest lit up her features. "What was her name?"
Reno's tone suddenly took on a softer quality. "Poppy. High maintenance, she was. Always on about those storybook fairy tales, fantasizing how someone was gonna save her." His eyes darkened briefly but shook it off to continue, "When we were really young, she liked to play the damsel in distress, stowed in a tower or some other stupid shit like that. I always played the villain, per her request mind you, keeping her locked away until her Prince Charming, usually one of her stuffed toys, would come rescue her. Stuffed toys don't talk, so I got to practice my ventriloquist act."
That was the good memory. There were plenty others that weren't so lighthearted, but those cards he kept close to his chest. Some things were better forgotten.
Tifa smiled at him. "Are you any good?"
"Probably to a five-year-old," he replied sarcastically. "Been out of practice."
"And... what happened to her?" The inquiry was cautious, delicately placed.
Matted orange hair and track lines. A shot rang and blood soaked everything.
"I don't know." Some things were better left unsaid.
The look on her face told him she didn't believe him, and he didn't care. "What about your parents?"
"What is this, twenty fucking questions?" he snapped. The bit of control he managed to maintain was slipping with her endless probing. There was also something about conflict that seemed to make this entire thing that much more manageable. He could easily deal with anger, rage, and push back. These tender exchanges were difficult to comfortably stomach, even if they felt right in the moment.
Tifa looked at him carefully. "I just want to know you." The sadness in her voice made him regret everything.
"But you do know me - I'm an asshole." Reno tried to jest but failed to sell it. He sighed, throwing his hand through his hair as he reached for his pack. He was out. Fuck.
They'd made such progress, and suddenly it felt like they were walking backwards. It was awkward, their time together, but Reno knew he was to blame. Fear continued to creep in and cripple his sensibilities. He had no experience here - he could make a woman's toes curl and get a man to squeal all of his secrets with a set of pliers. But when it came to this, he didn't even know the first step.
Whether bored or stressed, he used all the same vices to alleviate every situation. Neither booze nor sex seemed to be adequate answers to this equation as he peered at Tifa beneath the low light, her eyes glistening with a faraway stare. He felt he was at an impasse, not sure what to do with himself.
So he did something that frightened him.
"Funny story. Rude and his ball and chain accused me of having intimacy issues."
Tifa smirked, the previous unease slowly ebbing away. "I know a few people like that."
Reno feigned surprise, a sharp gasp and a hand flying to his chest, "You mean I don't have the monopoly on destructive emotional tendencies? And here I thought I was a special boy." The giggle she produced relaxed him.
Their eyes locked, the understanding and warmth behind her burgundy irises felt as if they were reserved for him alone, and suddenly he was pleasantly overwhelmed by her. He just couldn't shake the last few fragments of apprehension that hampered his forward progression. "Not even sure what that means, if I'm being honest here."
Tifa looked off, playing with her nails as she so often did when her nerves began to get the best of her. "I would say you have trouble with expressing your emotions. You keep them hidden away."
He scoffed. "Well hello pot; my names' kettle."
"I know, I shouldn't talk," she admitted, pressing her forearms to the bar top and leaning her weight against them. "It's why I had such trouble with Cloud for so long. I couldn't bring myself to just lay it all out there. I just hoped that he knew, that he saw what I was sacrificing, and if he did he would eventually see that I was the one for him, waiting for him."
The turn of conversation struck him, giving rise to a green-eyed phenomenon that hit him like a brick to his chest. He trained his attention to his lighter, flicking the flame absently to maintain his focus. "And what about now?"
"What do you mean?"
A question with a question. She knew exactly what he meant, and it frustrated him. "Do you still think and feel that way...now?"
She smiled, the glint in her eye hinting at a mischievous quality. "Oh Reno, don't tell me you're jealous?"
The inflection of her mockery pissed him right off. He hated little more than deflection, even if he was a prime offender. He wanted to brush the whole thing off, but he couldn't deny the fear was real. "Do you?"
Her voice was steady and clear when she answered. "No...no I don't."
"You don't sound too confident." He was projecting and he knew it.
Tifa sighed, yet her patience remained steadfast. He probably didn't deserve it. "He'll always be something to me. But the time has passed for what I thought we were inevitably meant for. I think I'm meant for other things." She glanced at the time to the wall across the counter, then back to Reno who had fallen perfectly still. "It's getting late."
Reno kept to his silence as she slipped from the stool and onto her feet with a muted thud of her boots. The conversation left him on shakier ground, sending him into a whirlwind of pessimism. He considered perhaps his subconscious wanted a reason to retreat, to simplify matters by finding alternative ways to sabotage their flourishing connection. The smart thing to do was to leave before he made it any worse. "Right. I'll take off."
As he hopped off from his seat, he found Tifa's expression darken into a smoldering, heavy lidded stare. It left him frozen, invisible binds gripping him in place. "You know… you don't have to be alone anymore. We don't have to be alone anymore."
She began her trek toward the steps, leaving him to witness her slow retreat.
Whatever despondent dribble he had been filling his own brain with swiftly found its way to the exit. He flipped through the pages of his mind for any reason why he shouldn't answer the call, having now been presented with the option to either make a move or walk away. He realized then, within those precious seconds that he hesitated, he had effectively run out of excuses.
He followed.
Tifa quickly faded from his view before he even reached the stairs, his lingering trepidation impeding his movements. The journey up took him back to their last encounter there - hands and lips seeking each other through the darkness, stumbling about through potent inebriation. They were both painfully sober now, and any excuse to tuck tail and flee had disappeared with her unspoken invitation. If he was honest with himself, he was as eager as he was anxious. The combination was surreal, but so was everything else.
Through the dimness of the hall, Reno found a soft light spill from the only open doorway, and his heart skipped a beat. He hovered just short of the doorway as he considered his actions and decisions moving further in. What he would be accepting was no small ordeal. He was a simple man with simple needs, who exploited carnal pleasures for short term gains and rarely considered the long-term consequences they may produce. He'd left once to spare her of his rot, only to return and fall victim to her embrace. He thought of his partner then, how the radiance of his smile had illuminated the entirety of his visage and touched the darkest reaches of his guilty soul. Perhaps, if he allowed it, he could have that feeling, too.
She was sitting at the edge of her bed; hands gripping her knees, expression tight beneath the yellow glow. A lamp, the only active light source within the room, sat atop a nightstand, washing over the solid white bedspread and cast a luminous hue over her pale skin. The scent in the air was strikingly feminine, noting her familiar jasmine aroma that latched to his sensory the first time inhaled her unique fragrance. He was hard-pressed to forget it
He needed her, he realized. It was a need far beyond the physical calling of his body's natural desires, but a need to be more than killer, more than a philanderer, more than any other filthy, rotten name he could associate with himself. He just wanted to be more. He wanted to be better.
For her.
As he shut the door behind him, Tifa stood up from the bed in anticipation. His steps toward her were painfully slow and deliberate, azure eyes penetrating as her pulse pumped and warmed her flesh so intensely, she feared she'd melt at his feet. He moved closer still and all she could think of was how this same moment disintegrated once before and left her a bit more broken. But this felt different, as he had every opportunity to walk away and stay away, to avoid future interaction and break apart anything and everything they had established thus far.
Reno soon came to stand before her, mere inches apart as he slipped his fingertips tenderly along her cheek, expression softer than she'd ever seen it before. She closed her eyes, lips parting, relishing in the delicate caress of his battle worn touch. They trailed a delicate path to her dark silken hair where he pushed back the fallen strands, curving around to the cove behind her ear to her neck.
With arms rigid at her sides, she fought to quell the tremble within. As much as she wanted to close the distance, fear coiled in her belly as she focused to steady her breath. "Why did you leave that night?"
The question took him off guard, but he couldn't argue its validity. That night was impossible for him to forget, although part of him wished he could. The disappointment, despair, and desolation in her cries made him regret crossing that line. He had hoped to keep his distance, to save her from the monster that he was, but ultimately, he didn't. He couldn't.
Capturing her gaze, still and unwavering, he answered simply, honestly, the first time in a long time. Absent bravado or sarcasm, he spoke plainly. "To protect you from myself."
She smiled a bit sadly at that. "Oh yes, always trying to protect me. I don't need it."
"You're right - you don't." Reno took a small step forward, the closeness of their bodies a hair's breadth away. Her teeth came down on her lip, eyes large and peering upward as the heat of the moment rose in temperature, his suit becoming impossibly tight and strained. "But a lot has changed since then, hasn't it?"
The intensity of their proximity held her in place as a familiar fire flared over her flesh and a gentle ache at the base of her abdomen began to stir. The tension remained thick with unspoken desires. "Has it?"
A sardonic smirk crossed his lips. "I guess, perhaps, I should show you."
With a kiss to her lips, Reno closed the distance completely. His caress was gentle yet ever exploratory, slipping beneath her top as the thunderous beat of her heart echoed against her eardrums. She saw stars as her hunger grew and expanded, threatening to consume her as he took further liberties with his advances. Her pulse quickened when his thumb brushed the underside of her breast and she thought her knees would give.
Having sensed her failing equilibrium, he broke from her. Her breathless gasp and swollen lips only seemed to fuel the burning fire behind his eyes. "You want this, huh?" he asked with a teasing grin. His control waned, but the desire to hear her ask for it overwhelmed the fervent demand his body bellowed to proceed without it.
Claret eyes clouded with a lusty haze stared back at him. "Please, Reno."
That was all he needed to hear.
His hands worked quickly, eagerly, as he reached for her tank to lift it from her. She followed his lead, shoving his goggles from his face and gripping the lapels of his blazer, pushing them from his shoulders. Reno let her this time, shaking it free.
They urgently slithered and squirmed out the rest - shirt, pants, skirt, everything - all the while doing what they could to touch, tease, caress one another with their lips and restless hands. Before long, they had fallen to the bed, and with his aid, Tifa shimmied out of the last of her garments. The cloth was tossed and forgotten as they took in the sight of the other, both fully bare and exposed.
The cool air sent a shiver over her body as she laid there, tinged with a pink tint, a full-bodied blush highlighting to her skin as she fidgeted uncomfortably from the exposure. She began to retreat internally, painfully apprehensive. How did she compare to the others? The thought was toxic, but its existence was real enough for her to want to hide from him. So certain only moments ago, she felt fear grip at her like a vice, choking her. Eyes drifted everywhere but him, a swift bout of embarrassment coming to take her under as she reached her arms across her chest.
His expression was strikingly calm, his gaze roving of her body in silent appreciation. When he gently guided her arms away from her protective embrace and his lips softly brushed against her own, the walls she'd erected came down with it.
Tifa trusted him.
The kiss deepened, from a nibble at her lip to the sweep of his tongue. Her heart pumped with irregularity, threatening to burst free as she boldly pressed her palms flat against his chest. His firm, sinewy muscles beneath his skin responded to her anxious touch, carrying her exploration to his stomach, clenching tight beneath her, and past his waist to delicately graze his arousal. Hips jerked involuntarily as a guttural sound tore from his throat. She wanted him, she needed him.
His hand trailed a delicate path down her body, brushing tenderly at her breast, the curve of her waist. His ministrations left her dizzy, all previous anxiety gone, her lingering inhibitions dissipated. She was there in the moment, aching and needy and restless.
And when his hand dragged along her pelvis to finally dip between her legs, her sharp cry of pleasure surprised her. Her caught in her lungs as her mouth fell wide as the pressure mounted, the pool of heat building. Lips took to her throat, teeth grazing at her skin. She was suffocating, mouth gaping and closing, eyelids fluttering, gasping for air. Her hands clawed at her chest, and a low growl rumbled from above.
Tifa was utterly consumed, close to an edge she didn't want to reach alone.
When she finally begged for him, tears in her eyes and his name on her tongue like a chant, Reno moved like a panther, looming over. Eyes alight with an impassioned voracity, he gently buried himself between her legs, his sharp moan melding with her feverish song.
The only sensation, all that mattered was their current existence, their shared frozen moment punctuated by long, languid strokes that slowly increased in tempo, a flood pounding against the dam. Tifa bucked against him over and over, pleading for him to go deeper, faster, legs wrapped around his waist to take him in.
And he obeyed her every request, her name on the lips that pressed against her cheek, her hair, her mouth. Enthralled by the sounds of her voice that carried his name, by the way her body moved and flexed beneath his own.
Reno was on fire, blissfully burning asunder in the flames.
They lost themselves in the rhythm, each hanging by a thread of control, relishing in the warm friction. Words tumbled unintelligible. Lips crashed together, greedy and eager. They couldn't get close enough, clinging and grasping, swallowing moans that threatened to burst forth and shake the ground.
Reno felt Tifa quiver around him, her body on the cusp of convulsions as she mewled helplessly against his mouth. He pulled away to watch her, to witness her release as she gave into the swell of ecstasy.
The dam broke wide open, and she arched her back as the flood engulfed her, lips parted as she writhed with the vibration with a soundless cry. The warm constriction destroyed his lingering restraint, reduced to expletives and a series of tremors that she graciously held him through to completion. As their breathing normalized, their pulses dropping to a steady beat, they remained together far beyond the ripple of euphoria.
Reno reluctantly pulled himself from her embrace, kissing her forehead before rolling himself onto his back beside her. Without hesitation, he pulled her against him, her cheek to his chest and legs entwined. The length of her was crushed to his side, and he absently traced the pads of his fingers along the arm that curved across his abdomen.
Everything was different. Deep in his heart, what they shared was far more consequential and genuine than any experience from his past. He understood the difference now, between a casual encounter and one laced with emotional weight. It rocked him to his core and spilled all that he was and all that he wanted. It was a defining moment; one he knew he couldn't eloquently express. What it all meant now, he wasn't too sure, but it was definitely something.
"My mother is dead," he said suddenly, quietly. "She's been dead for a long time."
Blunt and abrupt, it was another piece of himself he offered to her, willingly.
Tifa, who had been mindlessly drawing circles and shapes along his side, equally lost in her own reverie, gave a small frown to the sudden information. "I'm sorry. Mine too."
He grinned. "Yeah, your file."
The shift against him suggested she was smirking. "Father?"
"Same."
"And you don't know about your sister?"
He paused and considered, but ultimately knew the tale was too dark for a post-coital recollection. "I do. But...another time, alright?"
She nodded, tightening her arms' grip around him. "Okay."
They laid there for a while in comfortable silence. In previous circumstances, Reno would have easily torn himself away from the scene, never to linger past the point of gratification. But there he was, bathing in the afterglow with Tifa curled into his side, cheek to his chest as she fell under the spell of slumber, her body relaxing, melting into the mattress, into him.
The smart thing to do would be to leave before the morning light, but instead, he held her closer, settling against the pillows at his back and allowed himself to take full advantage in a revelry he'd never known before, but hoped to know again.
With her.