"She's sick."

"What you mean she's sick?" He asked with a baffled look.

"You know… the cough, wheeze, sniff, cough…"

He rolled his eyes at her words. He ran his hand through his messy hair before stuffing both hands into the back pocket of his dark jeans.

The chestnut haired girl looked at him skeptically for a moment before shrugging and turned away from him.

His gaze fell down to his shoes. He stared at it intently for a while, but his mind wasn't on the black shoes, it was on a certain sable haired girl.

His head suddenly snapped back up. With a determined look, he quickly made his way out of the bar.

…………………………………………………………………………

She reached a hand up to her forehead. 'Hot.'

She sighed and struggled to release herself from the tangled bed sheets she was caught in. When she finally managed to do so, she felt too tired and was ready to fall back on to her bed. But she needed a drink. Her throat felt dry. She ran her fingers over her lips, feeling the dryness of it. She quickly licked her lips in hopes to moisten it.

She reluctantly got up from her bed as she heard the knock on the door. She took a step forward but stopped when she felt a sudden wave of dizziness hit her. Her eyes flew shut for a moment as she tried to recompose herself. The person on the other side of the door knocked again, impatiently this time. Her eyes flew open. She slowly made her way to the door. The knocks were getting louder by the second.

The girl gently massaged her temple as she made her way. The knocking of the door seemed to be amplified somehow. She felt as if each knock on the door was a hammer pounding away in her head. She closed her eyes again as her hand reached for the door knob.

The door flew open, revealing the impatient visitor. The guy stared at her for a moment. Her eyes slowly opened to see who it was. All she saw were a familiar pair of blue orbs staring at her before everything went black.

His hands reached out immediately as if on reflex. He caught her in his arms before she could hit the carpeted floor. 'Boy, is she heavy.'

He carefully carried her over to the sofa and gently placed her down. The guy looked around the apartment, noting the absence of any other human being. He stared down at the unconscious girl. His right hand instinctively reached out for her forehead. He quickly pulled away when he felt the unusually warm forehead.

The flaming red hair guy went into the bathroom and grabbed a clean piece of towel on its rail. He ran the towel under the cold water from the tap. After draining it dry, he made his way back into the living room again with quick strides.

The sudden cold feeling on her forehead seemed to suddenly jolt her senses. She tried to open her eyes but couldn't. She gave in to her sick self and allow herself to just trust whoever it was who was taking care of her.

A smirk crossed his features as he watched her. He crouched down, leveling himself on the same height. His hand reached out hesitantly. He paused for a moment before continuing. His fingertips gently grazed her left cheek and slowly went upward as he brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. She didn't move at his touch, to which he was thankful for.

He quickly stood up again and made his way to the kitchen. He couldn't cook to save his life, but he knew he did have some culinary skills that would be enough. He hoped.

A full hour passed as the guy triumphantly emerged from the kitchen with a bowl and spoon in his hands. He sat it down on the coffee table opposite the sofa and slumped himself down onto a comfy armchair. As soon as his head hit the soft cotton fabric, he immediately gave in to his need for sleep.

………………………………………………………………………

"Where am I and what time is it?" Tifa mumbled as she squinted at the sliding doors of her living room that led out to a small balcony.

The evening sun was glaring into her living room, casting a warm orange glow to the room.

She pulled herself up and the first thing she saw was a bowl of soup sitting on the coffee table. She reached out for it. 'It's cold.'

Her stomach growled, so she decided to ignore the lack of warmth a soup was suppose to have and dug right in. It was chicken soup but somehow it tasted sweet. It wasn't bad, but it had a funny taste to it. Despite the lack of the 'chicken-soup feel', she finished it anyway.

She was about to place the bowl back onto the table when the thought hit her in the head. 'Who made this? I know for sure I didn't.'

She caught a light movement out of the corner of her eye. Her gaze immediately flew to the armchair. The bowl in her hands nearly dropped as a result of her shock. Her eyes widened. 'Am I seeing right? Or is this my imagination?'

She rubbed her eyes with her hands. 'Nope. Not an imagination.'

She quietly got up and made her way into the kitchen. She wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted her. In fact, she had to hold on to the doorway to restrain herself from fainting. She breathed in deeply and tried to relax herself. The sight of her kitchen made her felt sick all over again. There were a pile of pots in the sink, vegetables strewn on the floor and the table, the cutlery drawer was opened and in a mess. There were strange stains on the kitchen towels and there were droplets of what look like the soup she just ate on the floor. She squinted hard at the ceiling. 'How in the world did he manage to get those up there?'

She sighed dejectedly. Cursing softly under her breath, Tifa carefully made her way into what looked like a war zone and placed the bowl into the already full sink. She made her way back out, deciding that she didn't have the energy to clean up such mess. She didn't think she would want to clean it even if she had the energy.

The guy was still sleeping soundly at the armchair. Tifa decided not to wake him, he looked tired anyway. 'Who wouldn't be with all that mess made?' she mused.

She came out of her room half an hour later only to find him still sleeping. Freshly showered and feeling better, Tifa decided to play a little of the piano.

She sat down at the piano and let her fingers run through the familiar and well-loved black and white keys. Gentle sounds of the piano filled the room. A smile crossed her face as she played.

The music awoke him, leading him to open his eyes. At the sight of her playing, he decided to stay still and be quiet just to watch her. He didn't want to interrupt her and he didn't want her to stop playing either, which he felt she would if she knew he was listening in.

After a few pieces, he felt himself drawing nearer to her. He told himself it was just the music, but he wasn't good at lying to himself. To others yes, he's the master of all bullshit, but to himself, he's the worst ever. He went closer to her, careful enough not to make a sound.

She had her back turned to him, but she could feel him approaching. It was just something she picked up back then. She knew when someone was behind her. But this time, she could tell the person had no motive of killing her or whatsoever, so she ignored him. She continued playing.

He stood right behind her. His eyes were closed as he listened to her playing. As much as he hated to admit it, he enjoyed her playing. Sure, he heard others play before, but there was something about her playing that drew him in.

Tifa suddenly stopped.

His eyes flew open to find her wine colored eyes staring into his.

"Do you want to sit?" She asked softly as she patted the place next to her.

He hesitantly sat down beside her as she began to play again.

No words were exchanged between them for a long time.

She kept playing.

He kept watching her play.

"Nice." He finally mumbled.

A small smile appeared as she continued playing.

"I've been playing since I was young."

"Figures."

She stopped to look at him.

"Can you play?"

He shrugged.

She took her fingers away from the piano keys. He shot her a dubious look. Tifa only smiled.

Reluctantly, his right hand fingers reached out. His index finger pressed a key before the rest followed. His left hand reached out and started to play in tune with his right. The smooth, gentle notes of music began to flow.

Tifa listened, half-impressed and half-surprised. She said nothing though, but continued to watch him play.

She turned to look at his face as he played. There was a semi serious look, semi soft look on his face that she couldn't quite describe.

Without even realizing it, she let her head gently fall onto his shoulder as he played. She closed her eyes as she allowed herself to be lost in the music.

"Do you like me?" He suddenly whispered softly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"Um."

"Is that a yes?" He whispered again.

"Maybe." She replied in an equally soft voice.

"What's a maybe?"

"I don't know…yet." She answered, her head still on his shoulder.

He bit his lower lip. He was hoping for a real answer, not answers like this. Yes or no. That was all he needed to hear.

"It's a simple question."

She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked away.

"It's not."

He stopped playing abruptly.

"Why not?" He questioned.

"Cause…I don't know, what is it…that I'm feeling." She answered softly.

Reno got up. Sudden feelings of hurt and anger washed through him. Tifa quickly looked at him, surprised at his sudden reaction.

"How is it that you don't know? Do you like me or not. That's just it. Yes or no. One simple answer."

"I just…"

"Forget it." Reno interjected.

He didn't want to stick around to get rejected. It wasn't his style. Then again, it wasn't his style to actually like someone for real either…for the first time ever.

He turned around and grabbed his coat.

"Reno, wait…"

He stopped midway and looked back at her.

"I'm sorry." She said.

Without another word, Reno stalked out of the apartment, confused and lost at her answers. Tifa stared back at the piano. She sighed softly.

A/N: I apologize for taking such a long, long, yes, very long, time to update this. I was really distracted and busy with other stuff. So, once again, I am really sorry. And of course, thank you to all who reviewed, and I hope you guys will enjoy this chapter.