prompt: dance, by milk
It was just them tonight, right at the closing hours. The jukebox was still on and she asked a question he wasn't sure how to answer.
AU: canonverses for both, late night coffeeshop, older!immortal?Kagome. Possibly ooc Vincent.
Shutters fluttered one by one. Stillness reigned alongside the fluorescent lights. Clicks and clanks of footsteps banged the wooden floor. It wasn't quiet, with low singing hums from a crackling jukebox.
He recognized the song, but couldn't place the name to it. Familiar but obscure. Popular decades ago, now reduced to being a background noise. Shame that, Vincent remembered enjoying it.
"Staying tonight?" A voice drew him away from his cup of coffee. He glanced over his shoulder and thumbed over the rim of his mug at her smile. To some, she was unassuming, but to him, she was angelic.
Familiar.
Vincent tilted his head, "If you'll accept me." Downing the last of his drink, he turned back to her chuckle. He'd be dead than to admit he was hunting for any excuse to look at her.
She snorted and saddled her head on the blunt end of the broom, "I'll always have a room for you." Kagome grinned cheekily, brightening up the gloomily dark space. Despite the brilliant lights, the night's cloak continued to creep in. Batting her palm on the stick, she resumed her work, "You know it's okay to ask if you can rent from me, right?"
He stiffened, before a long sigh tumbled from his thin lips, "You heard then." Who should he blame this time? No matter how well kept his personal businesses were, someone always seem to know. Vincent grimaced.
"My patrons talk here," Kagome swept her way to him, stopping long enough to pat his broad back, "and I have ears. I know far more secrets than anyone could comprehend." She ended with a sad chuckle and piled on specks of dirt in a corner.
Vincent didn't ask and instead he dropped his head in an agreeing nod, "Not much differences from the bars then." He recalled similar from Tifa, when she was lamenting over some unnerving subjects she heard.
With the dustpan in hand, she made a short walk to the nearest trashcan, "Alcohol colors their words. Here, it's the sense of security—hardly any better. But, enough of that," Vincent nearly jumped when Kagome rematerialized in front of him and spread her hands on the countertop, "why were you evicted? I remembered you being a responsible man even back then," he folded his hands on his slight smile. Funny how her recalling from their pasts could make him a little warmer—despite the uncomfortable subject, "so, it couldn't be over the rent."
His brows knitted, "…I—"
"Ah, sorry," Kagome quickly backpedaled at the sight of Vincent's pinched frown, "Hadn't meant to make you uncomfortable." She patted his arm and gave him a quiet smile, "You can tell me some other day, you know I get worried."
Grasping his barely-warm mug, Vincent admitted, "Sorry, I—I'd like to stay here." Silence tugged on his tongue and his lips fell closed.
She was the only thing that quietened the demons in his mind.
"Don't worry about it, you can tell me when you're ready," Kagome grinned, warming his heart. Her touch still lingered on his good arm, emitting that gentleness he so desperately needed. "my doors are always open for you."
Vincent couldn't resist the urge to grasp her hand, "Thank you."
The jukebox changed its song to something sensual. Kagome blinked, realization dawned onto her and she laughed, "I kept forgetting how old that machine was." Pink colored her cheeks when the lyrics followed.
His coffee emptied Vincent cleared his throat, "It's the same jukebox?"
"I kept it, yeah—you done with this?" Kagome took the mug at his nod. She scurried to the sink, though Vincent hadn't missed her darkened skin.
"It's only us," Vincent reminded.
Kagome coughed, pouring a generous amount of dishsoap in the used mug, "I'm fully aware." She kept herself busy.
Cute, Vincent thought. It wasn't a word he'd use often, but he seemed to have made frequent exceptions for her. Only to her would he allow himself to soften his heart. Why hadn't he fallen in love with her years ago?
It would've spared him decades of grief.
Ceramics rattled from the sink, but it failed to overwhelm the song. Vincent tried not to glue his eyes on her back. How could her presence be so large, when she was such a tiny thing?
"Have you danced before?" Kagome blurted, pivoting at her feet and drying her hands with a small towel. Despite her obvious bashfulness, she stared him down.
Vincent paused, registering her question. He tried not to look away, but at his twiddling thumbs, he lost the contest, "…" Vincent's answer told Kagome everything she needed to know.
Perching the hands on her hips Kagome eyed him, "Well, that's no good at all!" She huffed, with a smile playing on her lips, "I thought the Turks would've been required to know those things."
"That sort of thing…wasn't necessary," Vincent admitted. He could feel her gaze on him, "why did you ask?"
"I was hoping I could ask you for a dance." Kagome pouted, folding the towel on the shiny surface. "That's a bummer—the next song's a good one."
His chair groaned when Vincent moved to stand. Cupping a hand overs her he met her wide eyes, "Then teach me." Her sudden smile melted his insides—but Vincent was a well-practiced man and schooled his expression to neutral.
Grasping over her beating heart Kagome giggled, "Well, I can't say I'm a good teacher, but I'll do my best." Leaving her spot from behind the countertop Kagome led Vincent to a safer spot in her shop, "Tell me if you're uncomfortable, okay? I only know waltz."
Vincent remained quiet when she manipulated his hands and corrected his posture. This was the closest he'd ever been to this tiny slip of a woman. Her hands almost stirred the coarse voices in his head awake, those sweet touches were something he never realized he wanted.
"There—follow my steps, okay?" Kagome's giggles had him blinking and he tried not to smile, "…I'll try not to step on your toes too much!"
The jukebox sounded a click, announcing its change. A sense of nostalgia overwhelmed him when it beat that homely beat, "…you always played this one in the mornings." Vincent tightened his grips on Kagome, his words lost in a soft murmur.
"It was one of my favorites," Kagome tugged him to the beat, "stopped playing it though." She tangled her fingers in his.
Vincent followed her steps obediently, "Why?" He gritted his teeth at the temptation to pull her closer to his chest.
"Because you stopped coming," she admitted. Kagome pushed Vincent's hand above her head and spun at her feet. Vincent reaccepted her hand easily, their dance becoming less awkward, "you said it was your favorite too."
He remembered, "…when I hear it through the door," Vincent locked his hand on the small of her back, "I know everything would be alright—even if it'd be for a moment."
"You never said those things," Kagome found herself following Vincent's steps instead. Her nails bit into his hand and Kagome pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Her skirt flew at the hastening beats in the music.
"And I'll always regret it." Vincent thudded a foot the moment he twirled Kagome. He tugged her to his chest, fastening his hands back to their original spots, "You know now."
"You came back—that's enough for me." She nearly floated at the speed Vincent took, breathless when the song slowed. The intenseness in his gaze had her entire body burning with both shyness and flattery.
Vincent was lost in the dance—to the music older than he was. Nothing mattered but her in this moment. There was no demons taunting and tempting him from within. No scars that still screamed in pain whenever he moved. None of the horrid flashbacks to the needles and scalpels splitting his skin and heart.
Only Kagome.
He nestled his nose in her hair and sighed when the song ended, "…I came back." Vincent amended softly. To imagine that no matter the shape he took, she still welcomed him home with open arms.
Kagome offered him a moment of silence and kept still. Very rarely would he tell his own tales and regrets, but to her she already read them all in his expressions alone. She understood—she had similar heartbreaks and regrets herself.
When a minute ticked passed them by, something niggled in her mind, "...you lied about not knowing how to dance, did you?" Kagome accused with a gleeful glint in her eyes.
"Perhaps." He returned just as cheekily.
quick context, Kagome is a coffeeshop owner and Vincent is her favorite patron/friend/love interest. She got teleported into ff7world somehow, happened to be immortal (of sorts) due to her time immunity.
She and Vincent knew each other 30 years before the event of ff7 as he was one of her frequent patrons. Unfortunately stuffs happened and she never saw vincent again til decades later. Happened by happenstance when Vincent decided he needed a cup of coffee and they pretty much hit it off like old friends.
a/n: there's a bit of story behind this, but knowing me, i'd never add anything soooo yeah, can't hurt to share snippets there and here though! Hope yall enjoyed and please do leave a review~!