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Thank you for the reviews and follows. Enjoy this long, long chapter!

Burning Close

Chapter 4

The loud, echoing footsteps stopped in the silent night.

"Thank you…for the date," Tifa smiled softly, knowing the man could see her face in the dark.

With the dimmed lights seeping through the curtains of the inn, she saw the man scratch his head. Like a certain someone.

"Naw, it was nothin'," Zack muttered. "But um," he cleared his throat, "I promise it'll be a better one next time."

"Well, good night," the woman replied, slightly embarrassed.

She was about to enter the inn when the man grabbed her wrist. Not too tight, but enough to send a chill down her spine that was not from the spring night.

"Wait."

Puzzled, Tifa turned to face him. "Hmm?"

"You forgot something."

Before she knew it, his firm lips landed on hers.

Ba-bump.

"A goodbye kiss," he whispered, experienced fingers tucking a strand of silky hair behind the woman's ear. "Good night, Tifa."

Listening to the footsteps grow softer and softer until she could hear no more, Tifa's body stood frozen in the dark, her cheeks burning hot from the warmth stinging sharply on her lips.

Hot shower, comfy bed.

Warm milk, comfy bed.

Fluffy pillows, comfy bed.

4:46AM.

Tossing and turning, Tifa Lockhart could not sleep. No matter how many yellow chocobos she counted, no matter how many times she hypnotized herself to sleep, no matter how many times she fluffed her pillows, all her mind could think of was: Zack Fair.

What in the gaia is wrong with me? For the umpteenth time, Tifa sat up in bed and glanced at the clock on the nightstand: 4:47AM.

She threw her face into her hands, seriously considering using Sleep on herself.

There was something about Zack Fair that intrigued to her, something that heightened her curiosity, something that forced her to continue down the unknown path. Yet, she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was of Zack that interested her. Surely it wasn't just his looks (though she must admit for the tenth time that night that he was quite good looking and charming). Was it his persistence? Or his charisma?

Tifa scoffed. Well, he's definitely more charismatic than Clou—

She stopped.

This was it. The resemblance to him. To Cloud.

She wanted to punch herself. After all this time, had she still been looking for the same man unconsciously?

But no, they were different. They looked similar, what with the wild, spiky hair and beautiful blue eyes, but their personalities were different. Zack was outgoing and optimistic, while Cloud was reserved and quiet and shy and…Cloud.

A tear slipped down her cheek. Something about Zack made her loosened up and actually let her tears fall tonight. The way his soft touches, his soothing voice, his warm aura comforted her… Rarely would Tifa cry in front of someone. The only man she had ever cried in front of was…

Cloud.

Why do I still miss him so much?

Tifa gritted her teeth. After being away for two and a half weeks, the man had not found her once. No phone call, no text, not even a message via a friend. Did he not miss her? Did he not think of her? Did he not care about her?

Flopping down on the bed again, her mind wandered back to the raven-headed man. Her fingers trailed along her lips, a burning sensation still lingering.

What was it with Zack? He was a First Class SOLDIER. Surely he must have been with Shinra around the same time as Cloud and Sephiroth? Was it possible they knew each other—?

She shook her head, not believing. No, that wasn't possible, right? SOLDIER was huge, wasn't it? But then again, not much people were able to make it to First Class (not even Cloud)…

Zack and his mysterious past… She wanted to know him.

"Tifa, what happened to you?"

The dark-haired barmaid glanced up from her plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "Huh?"

"Look at you," Mona's green eyes stared into the ruby ones. "You look absolutely terrible. Even worse than me! Is the bar too busy? Do you need help? Are the customers giving you a hard time? Oi, Johnnaaay!"

"Yessss, babe?" Johnny's voice called out from the living room next door.

"What did you do to Tifa?" Mona bellowed, temper rising.

"W-what?" The red-head scurried into the dining room, holding his baby son, Teddy, in one hand, and a milk bottle in the other. Eyes frantic, he stammered anxiously, "w-what ya talking about?"

His wife crossed her arms across her heaving chest and glared flying daggers at her husband.

"Well, just look at Tifa!" she exclaimed dramatically, curly brown hair flying loose from her bun. "She's all worn out! What did you do? Are you dumping all the work on her? I can't believe it—"

"No—" Johnny raised his hands up in defense and nearly dropped baby Teddy and the milk bottle—

SPLAT.

The bottle splattered all over the floor, milk flying everywhere. At once, Mona opened her mouth, ready to scold her husband—

"No-no-no Mona," Tifa reached over to the hot-tempered woman fuming across from her. "I'm fine! I really am!" She motioned to Johnny, who was already down on all fours, wiping the floor with one hand, and his son draped over his other shoulder. "Johnny's been a great help to me. Really," she added quickly when green suspicious eyes met hers.

"Hmph," Mona pursed her lips. "Tifa, why don't you take the day off today."

"No, Mona, I'm fine—" the barmaid started.

"I insist," the woman stated authoritatively.

She turned to her husband. "Johnny, wash the dishes before you open the bar. I need to feed Teddy now since you just wasted a bottle again."

Taking Teddy in her arms, Mona started toward the hallway. Tifa and Johnny glanced at each other in silence as they hear the door to her bedroom slam shut. Immediately, the barmaid grabbed a towel and started helping the red-head with the mess.

"I dunno what to do with her," Johnny murmured.

"You need to take her to a doctor," Tifa replied sternly. "Has she still been crying at night?"

"Not just at night," the man sighed. "Sometimes in the early mornin'. Sometimes in the middle of the night. I suppose probably durin' the day too."

He reached for the dirty towels from the barmaid and proceeded to rinse them in the kitchen sink. The typical goofy, happy face that plastered on Johnny's face was long gone ever since his son was born. With Mona's severe mood swings and crying episodes (which they highly suspected was postpartum depression), the challenge of raising a child was straining the young parents' relationship. It wasn't anyone's fault, but it broke Tifa's heart seeing her friends torn like this.

"Would you like me to take her to the doctor?" she asked, concern in her voice.

Shaking his unkempt head, Johnny smiled softly. "Tifa, you've helped us a lot already. I'll talk to her later and see how she reacts."

"Let me know how I can help."

The red-head grinned, shaking his head some more. "Seriously Tifa, I can't thank you enough…" He glanced at her, expression anxious. "What 'bout you, Tifa? How are you? Is everythin' okay?" He opened his mouth but closed them again, unsure if he should ask about a particular man.

Although an obvious lack of sleep etched on the barmaid's face, Tifa gave a bright, cheerful smile. "Of course! I'm fine."

Of course I'm fine. I'm always fine.

Despite her mighty effort to reassure Johnny that she was fine and could manage the bar, Johnny still forced Tifa to take the day off.

She despised not working. Working at the bar kept her busy. Busy meant no time could be spent on thinking about useless things, such as a certain someone. And so, not working meant she had all the time she wanted to think about useless things, including a certain someone.

"I can't keep him off my mind," Tifa muttered to herself.

She paced around in her tiny motel room, back and forth, back and forth. The sun shone brightly through the cottage windows. Bright green leaves fluttered in the soft spring wind. Birds sang a carefree melody that did not match Tifa's impatient pacing.

"Ohhh what am I doing?" She wanted to pull her hair.

Stomping toward the wooden door, she reached for the knob and swung it open. At once, she collided into a tall figure.

"Whoa—" such a calm voice, "you okay, Tifa?"

"Zack?" The barmaid's widened eyes were about to fall off. "W-why-what are you doing here?"

"To find you of course!"

His grin was as big and bright as the sun. His black spikes were styled smartly, yet messily, yet tidily. His violet-blue eyes were sparkling with glee at the sight of the woman. His scent was fresh, like fresh mountain breeze and pines. His muscular body was dressed nicely in a white teeshirt that highlighted his biceps and broad shoulders. He was the epitome of the summer sun.

Tifa blinked and shook her thoughts away. Clearing her throat and keeping her composure, she raised an eyebrow. "But how'd you know my room number?"

"Well," Zack's indigo eyes glanced away abruptly, avoiding Tifa's questioning gaze, "I was just, ya know, chatting with Pam downstairs—"

"Who's Pam?" the woman asked.

"Pam—Pamela—the part-time downstairs…The daughter of the owner…"

"Oh," Tifa crossed her arms matter-of-factly, "so you flirted your way into finding out which room I'm in?"

Zack scratched his head and grinned sheepishly. "Guess you could say that."

There's a reason why he was in SOLDIER.

An awkward—almost embarrassing—silence followed. Unconsciously, Tifa started picking at the side of her ripped jeans.

"So where are you headed?" Zack asked.

"Oh, um," where was I headed? "J-just to, um, the store." Her hands were flying everywhere, pointing in this direction and that direction.

"Oh, the grocery store in Wall Market?" The man motioned somewhere to the right.

"Y-yeah, that store," Tifa nodded, eyes not dared to meet the violet-blues, cheeks burning.

Zack laughed. "Why do you look so nervous all of a sudden?" he teased. "C'mon, I'll take you there."

Without further ado, the spiky-headed man led the way out of the inn (not forgetting to bid goodbye to Pamela, who batted her long eyelashes wildly) and started toward the main road to Wall Market. The hustle and bustle that Wall Market was previously famous for had died down tremendously, with most businesses moving outward to Edge. Every street was occupied by abandoned shops with broken, dusty windows. What remained in Wall Market was really a single crossroad with three diners, a shady pub, Johnny's bar, an equipment shop, a nearly empty pharmacy, and Midgar's last standing grocery store and fruit stall.

"It's a shame, isn't it?" Zack asked.

The barmaid gave a questioning look.

Pointing at their surroundings, Zack glanced around, where crooked banners and rusted light boxes hung on deserted buildings.

"What was once the great city of Midgar has now come to this. A city of rust and debris."

A city of rust and debris. Yes. Ruby eyes gazed toward the shadows that lurked far ahead. She could still see the great darkness and smell the flaming ashes of the nearly forgotten Sector 7. Her chest tightened. After 4 years, the suffocating past was still burning intensely in her heart.

"Tifa?" There was concern in Zack's voice. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just…"

"Thinking about something from your past?" he finished.

Tifa glanced up, surprised. "I…yeah."

The man smiled softly and crossed his arms. "Ya know, perhaps me having no memories of my past is a good thing after all."

"Why's that?" She perked an eyebrow.

"At least I wouldn't be frowning whenever I think about my past."

Tifa shrugged. "Perhaps…"

"I mean, if the past brings you such sorrow, why think about it, right?"

Grinning, Zack flicked his fingers on Tifa's forehead playfully.

"Ow!" She rubbed her head irritably. "What'd you do that for?"

He leaned down, face an inch away from hers, and whispered, "to flick all your painful memories away."

Tifa blushed and whipped her head away.

"I-I'm going that way!" she said loudly and stomped toward the grocery store. A chuckle could be heard trailing behind her.

Damnit! if he keeps putting his face so close to mine, I'm gonna—what? I'm gonna what? Punch him? Kick him? Kiss him—? What in the gaia are you thinking, Tifa Lockhart?!

She took a deep breath, wishing the floor would swallow her whole.

Soft bells twinkled dully overhead as Tifa pushed the dirty glass doors open. To be honest, she didn't know why she was here, because there was practically nothing left to buy. Empty shelves stretched from one end of the store to the other. Occasionally a dusty can of sweetened fruits and sausages sat here and there. At the back, yellowed tissue rolls, several bars of soap, a bottle of cleaning detergent, and several packs of toothpaste sat on a rickety rack. The lights and freezers were turned off to conserve energy. A ceiling fan at the center of the store swung idly in the quiet, still air.

It made her sad, taking in the sight. Tifa glanced toward the cashier, where the old, bitter owner dozed, not knowing two customers had just entered the shop.

"Ahoy!"

The old man jumped (and so did Tifa) from his seat, bloodshot eyes flipped wide open. The sudden loud voice shook the lifeless atmosphere, sending echoes in the empty store.

"Why you little retard—you—what's with the commotion—you fu—" Pointing a bony finger at Zack, the owner started toward them, swear words flying out of his mouth.

Instinctively, Tifa took a step forward and was about to apologize but Zack pulled her aside, broad body shielding her from the old man.

"Yo pops," Zack said, "you still got that bottle of old wine in your basement?"

"Wha—" the old man stopped. He widened his brown eyes even more, as if finally seeing the two figures. "Ah fuck, it's you. I thought it's some, some, some thief or somethin'," he wheezed. "Whaddya want?"

"The. Old. WINE," Zack said loudly into the man's ear, "from your BASE-MENT."

"OKAY I CAN HEAR YOU," the old man scowled. He glared at Zack. "How much ya payin' this time?"

"Same as last time—"

"Nah-ah that ain't 'nuff for me to move to Edge!" The man frowned, white bushy eyebrows furrowed. "Gimme the triple of that and I'll give ya that last bottle!"

Tifa glanced anxiously up at Zack. What was special about this old wine?

"Oh all right, you old geezer."

A few minute later, the two stepped out of the grocery, with Zack carrying a large bottle on his shoulders. It was nearly the size of a small child.

"Are you serious?" Tifa exclaimed, pointing at the wine. "That wine costs nearly five grands? What kind of wine is it? Is it worth it?"

Zack grinned. "Chill, Tifa! This is gonna make me lots of money."

"Oh really?" The barmaid rolled her eyes.

"Uh, do you mind if I drop this off first?"

"Where?"

"My home."

For the second time, her curiosity won her over. Tifa followed the man. A man she had just met for two and a half weeks. Walking behind him, she glanced at the tall figure. His broad shoulders, his muscular arms, his strong neck, his chiseled jaw, his black spikes. He was interesting and mysterious in so many ways. Like her, he had a painful, terrible past. And although he lost all memories of it, he chose not to seek the past. Instead, he accepted fate; he accepted the present and accepted the future. With open arms.

They walked in silence for about fifteen minutes, hiking past crude, rusty buildings and rubbles. Their footsteps made their way from the quiet Sector 6 to the even quieter Sector 5. Up in the distance, she could see the all too familiar architecture that brought peace to men, women, and children. Peace that Tifa herself could not bring to Cloud. Her heart cringed.

Zack stopped and faced her. He tilted his head to the left, indicating a small hut.

"This is it," he grinned sheepishly. "It's crappy on the outside, but comfy on the inside."

He scrambled for his keys and opened the door. It was rather dark, with the window blinds shut closed. The wooden floor creaked softly as Tifa stepped inside. The house smelled strongly of wood that was nostalgic and soothing at the same time. The lights overhead flickered on, revealing a wooden table and a welcoming, bean bag lounge.

"Have a seat." Zack placed the heavy bottle onto the table. He wiped sweat from his forehead and motioned around his home. "It's not much," he shrugged and smiled, "but it's comfy enough, don't you think?"

The barmaid settled herself onto the bean bag lounge (which was exceptionally comfortable) and took in her surrounding. A wooden cabinet, a wooden shelf, a wooden chair, a wooden stool…Most of the wooden furniture appeared to be handcrafted. Although a bit small, the wooden hut really was rather comfortable. It was almost like a warm campfire burning cozily in the middle of no where. Glancing at the far end of the room, she noticed a wooden staircase.

"That's where my bed is," Zack winked. "You wanna see?"

Tifa rolled her eyes, but felt her face burning surprisingly hot. "You think too much."

The man chuckled and handed a small cup to her. "Tea?"

"Thank you."

She felt the bean bag lounge sunk lower as Zack sat himself beside her. Not too close, but close enough to feel his warmth. She swallowed a lump in her throat.

"So, um, what's with all the wooden furniture?" she asked, ruby eyes darting away.

"I made them," the ex-SOLDIER replied. "I feel very at ease surrounded by wood. Like…I'm almost home."

Tifa gave a puzzled expression. "This is your home, isn't it?"

"It is," he leaned back, arms folding behind his head. Violet-blue eyes gazed up at the wooden ceiling, a million of blurred images flying in his mind. "But a part of me is still missing. Until I find it, this isn't home yet."

"So why are't you searching for it? Your memories?"

"Like I said before, I did for a while," Zack sighed and sat up, eyes gazing intently at Tifa's. "But for now, I'm quite comfortable with who I am. I'd like to live for the present and future, and not for the past, ya know? If I'm supposed to learn about my past, fate will lead me there somehow, whether I want to or not. Right?"

"Hmm…"

Memories. Her head, her heart were filled with memories. Memories she had locked deep within her. Memories of loss, memories of love, memories of pain, memories of joy… She shook away her thoughts bitterly.

"But I'm pretty sure I was born a country boy," Zack grinned and waved at the wooden surrounding. "Thus, all the wood."

Tifa smiled softly. "I'm a country girl too."

"Were you? Really?"

"You sound surprised. Do I not look like it?" she teased.

"Well, considering the way you dress—" (Tifa gave a playful punch), "Kidding! I never thought a country girl would learn martial arts, that's all. I thought all country girls stayed home and took care of the kids."

"That's what normal country girls usually do," Tifa rolled her eyes. "That was my dream for a while until—"

She stopped. Until my mother died.

"Tifa?" Zack placed a hand on her shoulder, concerned. "You okay?"

"…I…"

Endless emotions rushed through her veins. She gripped her jeans tightly, trying desperately to push them away—

"I'm sorry."

In a second, strong arms wrapped tightly around the fragile body. Tifa froze at the hasty contact, but quickly found herself leaning into the warm body of Zack Fair. His scent, his heartbeat, his warmth. So tempting. The skin on skin contact she yearned for so long was so foreign, yet so welcoming. He was here, physically here. She found herself leaning into him even more.

She was cold. Cold like bitter ice.

But he was warm. Warm like the summer sun, warm like the flames of a fireplace. Warm like somebody.

"Tifa…"

Mako blue eyes met the wine-colored ones.

"Tifa…"

In a second, his lips met hers.

Ba-bump.

Unbeknownst to her, her lips opened at the sudden encounter.

What—

Willingly. Earnestly. Impatiently.

Tifa—

Tongues intertwined, tasting, exploring, seeking.

What are you—

Calloused fingers tightened on the gentle shoulders, bringing the kiss deeper, and deeper, and deeper.

Stop—

More. Need more.

You're not in love—

Slender fingers tensed on the man's shirt, too afraid to let go.

You love—

Blood boiled as rough hands met delicate skin.

Stop, Tifa—

A soft moan escaped her lips, face flushed.

Clou—

"Zack—" her breath hitched, "wait—"

And it stopped.

Everything went still.

Deep violet eyes opened as the man stared into the ruby ones. Wanting, needing, craving. A bead of sweat trickled down the raven spikes and down his chiseled jaw. Shades of red formed on his handsome cheeks. Heartbeats jumped rapidly at an uncontrollable pace. Toned muscles were about to rip open his white teeshirt.

All the while, hungry, eager ruby eyes took in this marvelous sight. Thin fingers moved across the broad chest now heaving heavily. At once, Zack snatched them and held on tight.

"Tifa," he breathed, voice quivering slightly, "I want you."

And his lips ignited hers.

AN: Go vote for your favorite man in my profile now! :)