Behind Black Curtains
An AU, Sephiroth and Tifa fanfiction

- by Amaranthos-

Chapter 18: Closed Doors

This chapter does contain a lemon. If you would like to read it, please go to my profile page where there's a link.

There was a tender warmness, a gentle softness pressed to him.

With the sheets scantily draped around his body, he slowly shifted from his position opening his eyes to a new day. Somehow, he felt sore everywhere yet equally rested. His eyes adjusted taking in the image of his large room. The silent dust particles in his room fidget in the morning's light and the place he noted was surreal.

All except for the soft purr - it sounded like breathing, gentle breathing. Slowly turns to her...

Quietly she breaths in, the gentle rise and fall of her chest almost rhythmic to her heartbeat. So softly it beats and yet something about its quiet thumping was so peaceful and inviting.

Sephiroth examined his position.

Pinned beneath him, was the tiny body of his woman. Her body fitted perfectly into his. Every crevice, every sink, every contour seem to mold perfectly into his body. He registered the thin sheets clung to their legs but nothing could separate their intimately touching bodies. The smell of the previous night's pleasure and musk bathed on her body. He inhaled deeply, the scent somehow, appetizing.

With his head on her soft bosom he remembered now the string of events. He grew tired of making love to her that he collapsed on her chest and fell asleep. Somehow the idea itself made him smirk that someone like him, blackened to the world could fall sleep on the bosom of a woman. It was a misplaced truth to believe that he could sleep a quiet, restful night with a woman. He couldn't deny it was a mentally confusing thought of wondering; how in the world could he sleep?

He hadn't slept for years.

Paralyzed by a drugged insomnia to the haunting frustrations of war, the faces of his victims and the things he had done, he assumed sleep was for the lucky. For years the crescendo of outdrawn nights and weary moments remained as a classic reminder that he could not sleep, even if he wanted to.

His routine was always the same: stare at the ceiling, then the window and somewhere he would grow weary. His eyes would slow their course and as they were about close they were shot by the image of all those he's killed, their bloody, grueling, frantic faces laughing at him, mocking the very life he's lived as a scandal and an insufferable waste, and there is no peace even in the darkness, not behind his eyes, not behind closed doors…not even in the sanctity of his own mind; somehow he feared even in death there would be no ceasing to the darkness that followed him. And he supposed it could be no other way. He had upset the karma of the universe, and defiled life by becoming an assassin who easily cultivated death onto others. A curse his life was… as he could never sleep. With open and close eyes, his dark profession of militant war and death, invaded and pried its way into his very being, never to let him go.

'And last night has been the first night in so many years I've slept without the nightmares'

Today he noted, had perhaps been the first day of his life he didn't start with the contusions of war. There was somehow, a blatant knowing in the air of less burden and stress. There was quiet that filled the fortress. He surmised everyone was asleep from the ball the previous night. All that could be heard was the beating of heartbeats in the still of morning.

Softly and almost unknowing Sephiroth rubs small circles over Tifa's hips. She's asleep and her content breathing reminds him her dreams are peaceful.

Slowly, he withdraws his body from Tifa's where deftly he lies to her side. For a second he takes a breath and recaps the night's events, absolutely struck by her beauty. Her skin, as pale as morning lilies seem to somehow glow. She seemed to radiate and her glow reminded him of the pristine woman she was.

Tifa indeed was definitely beautiful. Her long black locks, intertwined with his and harmoniously they became one as a puddle on the bed. Her closed eyes were perfect with black, tall lashes that somehow seem to enthrall and paralyze the victim with just one batter. As Rufus Shinra has laboured emphatically one too many times, Lockhart's eyes reminded a man of the forbidden fruit she was. There had never been a waking moment Sephiroth would agree with the vehement man, but perhaps now. Observing how she breathed, he examined her lips. They were pouty, thick and somehow unruly, he thought. Innocent, yes, beautiful, also a yes, but lewd… he smirked at the thought of where those lips have been. 'I believe that is also a yes'

She was no saint. Her actions the previous night weren't at all innocent. But somehow it made Tifa human by having flaws or rather, giving in into temptation. The idea was interesting. She was preconceived as the girl who was too formidable, too cultured and well-mannered, and very inflexible to the pace of the world around. Had her character been described she could be ascertained as reserved and strong. She wasn't introverted, but rather she was shielded well. Had someone said a single lewd thing against her, she would perhaps be the first person to leave. Her character had infamously grown to be the pacifist who wore the clichéd goody two shoes.

Of course, that was how he knew her and left her to be. She was a tense pacifist, a little too indulged by her firm principles of peace. She couldn't adapt to her surroundings, as it was abundantly clear she grew ill from the very environment she was meant to make peace within.

Yet last night, was ironic especially with the story he read in her eyes. Somehow, Tifa had grown up when he left. It wasn't the best growing up he admits, but the woman had matured nonetheless, and somehow she became less rigid. Her eyes were warmer, her smiles genuinely true and happy, and then there was the fact she let go of herself to be with him. He couldn't understand her decision and why she'd do it, or even why she'd choose him. He could only imagine the procedure it took to expose herself to this point, had been a difficult one.

And there was no shame in her eyes when she offered herself to him the night before. It was almost as if she's made love to him so many times before. A most beautiful thing he found, especially not one to agree, he could not deny, her blatancy to desire and want him was especially beaconing. He could tell he burned every one of her fires alive, and it greatly appeased the diet of his many lonely years as a General.

Sephiroth then feels her turn from her position and leans into his chest. For a moment, he examines the small woman and her endearing gesture. Untrained at what to do next, he remains unresponsive. Slowly his hands move to her face where he pulls back some of her hair from her face. Again, he stared at her peaceful face, almost confused why someone like Lockhart would offer her precious virgin body to him.

Tifa slowly rubs her cheek against his chest. She smiles and Sephiroth has this niggling idea, she was awake.

Leaning forward, he whispered her name. It wasn't natural for him to call her by her firstname, but he figured she had sacrificed so much and she deserved it.

"Tifa"

Almost immediately, her ears perked up and her body stiffens at what he's called her. It was the first time he called her by her name. Shifting from her position, she fluttered open her eyes and met his. Amazed.

Tifa shakily smiled. Somehow she was proud to finally be called her name. For however silly it was, it meant a lot for someone like Sephiroth to come undone and call her by her name. 'So maybe your vanity is not exactly laboring' She thought.

"You called?" she lay her head on his arm, her eyes tenderly holding his.

He leaned forward. "Yes, I did"

Tifa blushed. She could hardly believe he agreed, not to mention his eyes were menacing as was their contact. Tifa lied there looking at him noticing how gorgeous he was. His eyes, 'They're amazing'. You could get lost in those eyes, they were so unusual and yet so, enthralling. Not to mention, Sephiroth was nothing short of the terribly handsome. She had seen handsome men, beautiful men, and yet somehow Sephiroth was the perfect beautiful in looks and war talent. Something about Sephiroth drew you in and there you found yourself completely lost, wondering what magic the man possibly had over you.

'Do you breathe, or get lost forever in those eyes?'

He touched her lips just so tenderly discovering its texture as his paced his index finger back and forth. She blinked back noticing his eyes. They were looking at her lips. She drew in but he quickly reciprocated by grabbing her small body and placing her on his rock hard body.

Tifa looked down staring intently at the man. For a long time they stayed like that just enjoying each other's company in the quiet of a new day.

"Are you fascinated, General Sephiroth?" she pause to see his gaze had shifted to her eyes, "are you fascinated by my delicious lips" she bit them seductively, cocking her head to the side.

Sephiroth looked at her and for a moment she couldn't interpret the look behind his eyes. He allowed her to taunt him for however short it would be. It was after all very interesting to see Tifa out of her character for him. He smirked. He smoothened both hands down her back where they landed on her firm buttocks. He cupped them tightly, earning a soft moan from his little woman. He gently kneaded her into his body, melting her curves back into his body. Tifa leaned forward, her forehead touching his.

From what she's noticed, he was not one of those affectionate lovers or passionate men who understood exactly what to do next. He did understand however, the nature of sensuality quite well. And with a deliberate decrease in speed, she averted her head and closed her eyes where her lips enclosed over his. Slowly they touched and released. Sephiroth kissed back, enjoying her soft lips against his. She moaned when he sent his tongue between their lips. Sephiroth grabbed her firm buttock, bringing her closer to him. Their tongues slowly stroked each other in an upward-downward play before they released each other with hazed eyes.

Tifa looked at Sephiroth who focused intently at her.

"They've changed…" he first started.

She quizzically strewed her eyebrows in a knot. "I… don't understand" she tried to comprehend the 'they' in his sentence.

He paused. He figured he didn't make it obvious.

"Your eyes. They tell me you've changed" he retorted, his voice deep, almost serious.

Tifa at first didn't know what to make of his sentence. She had hope her painful past would have withered away, the memories never to fill her days again. But it was to be reminded that not in a million years would she figure someone like Sephiroth could read her eyes and tell that the motion in them had changed. For however great or small the change has been, she was usually a very unreadable character, except of course when she was angry, but by nature her composure was quite nicely assembled to disguise her suffering. But of course, leave it to the people we judge the hardest to know us the best.

At the beginning of this ordeal she first registered Sephiroth as a beast, with no soul or being to call his own. Even if he did have a soul, it was blacker than any tar that existed.

'But now I see a man with a soul, that like mine, burns wildly'

Tifa gave a small smile. It was so weak. Sephiroth could not imagine the story behind the trigger of her change.

"I wouldn't know where to begin" something about her voice had been waned.

She looked down again and for a second time she could not face him. Her lips quivered and somehow this was a sensitive topic for her. He could honestly see the myriad of emotions in her face. But he had to know what caused them to change.

"Tell me" he whispered, and again she found herself dipping back into an old folder.

"I don't know what it is Sephiroth. I don't understand why, and how you of all people became so..seated and prevalent in my life. The last time I recalled… you were my enemy" she took a deep swallow. "But when you left…" she sighed sadly, "something happened to me. It's like it clicked in me, I don't know when the idea of you grew in me, or rather when I grew to accept you, and though I've wondered too many times… I somewhere along the line just …" her eyes drifted off, "just gave up and I accepted it without a reason as to why… and I can't say anything other than… I'm glad" she looked up at him.

She could tell her story by his face composure had not fazed him in the slightest sense. She figured Sephiroth was not the character to have the capacity to feel sorry or even pity for her as this was somehow the skin of a soldier.

And his eyes did not leave hers as they tried to make sense of what she had said. Her abysmal story had even left him in question pondering in a more intricate level; what are the profits of being with a dark soul like his? He could calculate very little, and he figured she was not drawn sexually alone to him, but rather there was more story and background to her unnamed reason. It had briefly disturbed him that someone like Tifa was the contradictory of the kind of woman he ultimately, perhaps one day in life would seek, but life is bitter and fate… confusing to anticipate and understand.

"When I heard the rumour that you were dead…" she paused, "I thought it couldn't be" she paused to let a single lone tear fall. The memories returned to her of how she would sit around and patiently wait for him to return. She could remember the sleepless nights she wept in confusion. Now, thinking about it in retrospect it sounded like one those clichéd stories of the lovesick woman in love with a man she could not have.

"How could the greatest General of all time be dead? And I suppose, I too believed you were a God, and sadly I came to the realization that you…died, and it was too late" she paused, "Rufus Shinra, he confirmed my thoughts yesterday morning when he told me you were dead, and I couldn't believe it, but somehow… I had too" she trailed off…

Sephiroth for a while stayed quiet. 'So the bastard truly did want me dead...' It was not a matter that he had to ask himself the obvious; he knew Shinra wanted him dead, but at what length Sephiroth wondered sometimes. In the silence of their pause, Sephiroth articulated his words.

"Rufus Shinra was informed 2 days ago I was hit by a mortar and that I was not dead. Of course, knowing his ever colourful self, he exaggerated. I presume in effect to solicit his idea of a ball. It wouldn't be much fun if the person you hated the most attended your own ceremony. I was to arrive today at Black Crescents, and knowing him, he'd have the ball one day before, so the so-called praise of victory against Mack Knights could not be divided. As such, I suppose he did this to eliminate me from receiving the attention and congratulatory praises from his guests."

Sephiroth laughed amused at Shinra and his many ways, "if you ask me he wasted his effort, I'm not one for balls"

Tifa strangely looked at Sephiroth. She could hardly believe what he said. All this time, Rufus knew Sephiroth was alive and here he was dramatizing a picture that he was dead, all for the selfish reason of not wanting the attention and congratulations to correctly be bestowed to Sephiroth and the soldiers of Black Crescents. Honestly, thought Tifa it was horrible. How could Rufus be so… "evil" Tifa found herself saying the word aloud.

Sephiroth finished, "Shinra is walking on a thin thread"

Tifa didn't take notice to the statement. She then said in a new voice, "so, tell me how was the battle of Mack Knights?" she asked, saddened that he was hurt.

"Successful" he curtly addressed.

"Seems to me, you've afforded yourself quite some damage" she spoke, examining the bloodied gauze on his biceps. With her small fingers she picked up the loose end of the untied gauzed and was amazed at the blood.

Sephiroth shifted.

"I'm fine" he said matter-of-factly.

Tifa nodded, "these wounds look awfully raw. You should go to infirmary and get them patched up"

Sephiroth said nothing. He slowly leaned forward, wincing at his sore and callused chest and stomach. All around his stomach were rips and tears. His stitches he assumed had become undone due to the active night he had. Still, he hated blood caked on his skin. No matter how much the thought of blood flickering on his face is appetizing, he couldn't say he enjoyed hardened blood crystals leftover.

He found his gripping with Tifa witnessing his strength. The man was absolutely impossible to stop. Here he was bombed in the back with a mortar, made dominant love with her and was moving about more than the most active of people. He pushed his feet over the bed and just sat to the edge looking down. He frowned at the bloodied gauze. He had to get stitched up.

'Damn wounds'

Tifa recoiled by placing her arms around his stomach, where her chest touched his back. Sephiroth examined her hands around his waist, and felt the softness of her breasts against his back. Something about their contact was stimulating. She leaned into his back, just kissing nimbly the bruises. She could see so many scars. She had to admit, his clothes did a good job concealing the damages he's collected through war, but here sitting with him she could count countless little incisions in his skin.

Sephiroth nonetheless removed himself from the bed. He couldn't stand the fact he felt weak. Tifa looked up at him and then found herself looking at his naked frame. She could hardly believe how toned Sephiroth was. The light of the new morning shone every muscle of the man alive. He wore no fat on his body that was for sure. Tifa saw his taut buttocks and couldn't help but to blush. Immediately she directed her gaze to the floor. She couldn't bring herself to examine him any further.

Sephiroth spared a moment before looking over his shoulder noticing a blushing Tifa. He imagined the string of events she was thinking this time.

"Imagine you blush now and not last night," he said flatly. With that he faced her noticing she refused to look up. He smirked.

Pulling her hand she looked up. Her red eyes wore a certain embarrassment and expectancy of exactly what did her General want. Grabbing the sheets she wrapped them around her body as Sephiroth pulled her to stand in his midst.

He examined the thin sheet around her. He drew a devilish smirk, which was different from his regular ones; this one was different. There was mischief in it, nothing good she could tell as she fear she would soon find out.

"Shy?" his eyes held hers. Almost momentarily she figured, perhaps she was wrong.

She was quick to react, in her response.

"No" she blushes.

Sephiroth examined her tense pose and supposed otherwise. Tifa hoped the silver twinkle in his eyes to would fade, but she was wrong. Using his right arm, in one fluent motion he pulled the thin sheet from her body. The sheet fell in a puddle to her feet, where her dangerous curves met his eyes anxiously. For a moment his eyes fed her in. Spectacular woman he thought, she could hardly be a pacifist with that body.

"That's better"

Sephiroth came closer to her and with his hands on her waist; he could see a shy woman. She was blushing profusely, almost trying to cover what he had tasted, what he had seen. There was nothing to hide. Honestly, she was beginning to act… silly

And without her permission he threw her over his shoulder. Effortlessly she landed over his shoulder in a thud, amazed at his strength. Even while he was battered and bruised, the man acted invincible. And to Tifa, he was.

He proceeded to his bathroom located to the right of his room. Closing the door behind him, he carried his tiny woman to his standing shower located to the far right of the bathroom. Gently he placed her down, where a very shy Tifa inspected Sephiroth. He turned on the shower and immediately tiny droplets of water fell over him.

Shower lemon scene. Link in profile.

He acknowledged her compliment and began washing himself off from their love-making.

Tifa joined him as she covered herself in soap washing herself off. Sephiroth left Tifa to take her time and clean off. Taking a towel from his towel rack, he brushed his teeth and sat on the counter admiring how Tifa washed herself. She could tell he was watching her.

Turning around she smiled and then teased him playfully.

Sephiroth did nothing but examine her. Tifa took off the shower and toweled up herself. They made themselves to his room, where they quickly changed off.

Sephiroth pulled at his sheets and threw them to the side. He would have to burn those sheets.

He then opened his medical cabinet where he took out his supplies and placed them on his bed. Tifa witnessed him attending to his wounds, annoyed he was doing everything with one hand. She quickly came to his aid becoming his nurse at the moment.

"So you're a nurse too?" he asked, examining how she threaded the needle and began sewing his wounds close.

"No…" she smiled at the thought, "I guess the fact that I've been on the field so long makes me qualified to mend persons. My luck I should I stitch you" she lightly giggled.

"You're not too bad, Tifa" he said, staring at her tenacity to help him.

She gave a gentle smile. 'Why thank you'

To be continued…

AU: Lemon is on my profile page (for those who are 18 yrs and older).