The rain fell to the streets adding a fresh, glistening coat to the cobbled stone. The town was so old fashioned in some areas; it was hard to believe they hadn't yet paved these places over in asphalt. Of course, that was what had brought him here. Kalm was a combination of the world he knew and the world he had awakened to.
"I guess we should make a run for it," Tifa said, pulling the coat around tighter.
Without another word, they exited and were about to begin the jog back to his building when Tifa paused mid-stride, looking at him with mischievous eyes that quite honestly made him nervous. He froze, catching her eyes as he stood beneath the falling rain, listening to the remnants of the music playing from the outdoor sitting area of the café.
"…What?" he questioned, completely unsure of her actions. Tifa could be both predictable and capricious all in the same breath. There were times he did not have any idea what would run through her mind. Often, she'd surprised him with a train of thought she wanted to discuss or somewhere she wanted to go. Just when he thought he'd gotten her down as much as was possible, she'd surprise him anew. The only place she lacked any versatility came in the form of a blonde haired boy.
"Dance with me?" she asked with a crooked grin. This did not sit well with him. A moment ago, she was disappointed with the sudden shift in weather and determined to make a run for it. Now, she was asking him to dance in the rain. As cliché as the idea of dancing in the rain was, he found the offer peculiarly enticing coming from her. Still… he couldn't quite picture dancing in the middle of the sidewalk.
"Tifa… you're already out of clothing." Wouldn't that be a shame if she ruined the last of the clothing he could offer her…
Oh… very nice. He felt the warmth prickle into the tops of his ears for that thought and quickly dismissed it.
"We're headed that way already," she added. The persistent droplets had already begun to slick her hair down to her cheeks and soak into the hem of the pants she wore.
"I really don't—" he began, but was interrupted when she drew near and rested one hand on his left shoulder while taking his right hand in hers. Electricity spread from the tips of her fingers, incalescence washing through his limbs. The feathered touch wound around his mind and he discovered that she could easily cloud his inhibitions with her fingers.
"Please?" A bona fide pout followed, her eyes alight with something he couldn't quite put his finger on.
"You'll not take a…rain check?" Oh, how ridiculous that sounded. By the way she fought back a laugh, it must have sounded just as ridiculous to her.
"I won't. I'll take your gauntlet away for a whole month if you don't dance with me," she threatened playfully.
"Anything but that," he retorted sarcastically. He'd gotten used to being without the gauntlet when he wasn't chasing down the next onslaught of hell raisers. It was but a reminder of his past. While the past should be given due respect, he no longer wished to dwell in its depths.
"Mmm… okay, okay. If you dance with me, I'll repay you with whatever you like," she beamed, seemingly proud of her skills in persuasion. Didn't she realize how much trouble a promise like that could land her in? And where had that frailty disappeared to? Either this was quite an act she was putting on, or she was working hard at distracting herself from the idea that Cloud was wondering where she was. Could it be that she liked the idea of putting one over on Cloud?
How do you like your revenge, Cloud, shaken or stirred?
"Anything at all, hm?" He gave her a skeptical once over, keeping his face barren of any expression.
"Anything at all," she assured.
For a moment, they stood below the broken sky in silence with proximity enough that he took notice of the crystals of beaded water caught delicately in the dark veils surrounding her eyes. Slowly, his rigid posture softened, a gesture she took as an invitation to begin her slow rhythm enhanced by the music from the coffee shop. The fluidity in her movements had taken him from the moment her lovely hips began to sway. He found the idea that she'd possess such grace rather natural, as her stance and motion in battle had often struck him as balletic.
He let her lead for a few minutes before coaxing her into his own waltz of sorts. He hadn't danced in years. He'd never danced in the middle of a sidewalk. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd done anything quite so nonsensical and bold. Yet he felt astonishingly at ease, a feeling he was sure he wouldn't have found in such an action had he been with anyone else. For that matter, no one else would have ever lured him into this. That was a most remarkable revelation. They moved together for a little longer.
Her hair, though wet, picked up from her shoulders as he moved her in a calculated circle. The smile sustained on pastel lips was reward enough, but he couldn't help but wonder what he'd decide on as repayment for this dance. Though, he didn't find it necessary that she do anything at all. Even if he found their dance the slightest bit foolish, he was glad to have partaken in this moment. In a forward step, he pulled her lithe form against his to end the masquerade. He was still lost in disbelief that he'd been prey to her charms, and that it had cost him a dance in the midst of a watery street. If anyone—particularly Yuffie—had witnessed this, he'd have surely been the target of her constant jesting. Though, Yuffie's opinion of foolish behavior wasn't exactly anything to gauge by. She had a habit of making herself seem, well, foolish.
After a quick and rather unexpected peck on the cheek, Tifa parted from him. "Where did you learn to dance?" she asked, looking surprised.
"I was a Turk, once," he replied honestly. The parties they often held during his days with the Turks were a stark contradiction to the loud and rambunctious parties now hosted on Shin-Ra's dime. Besides, once one became involved in the world of the Turks, it was unavoidable that he or she would hold on to certain traits undoubtedly influenced by the occupation, if it could be called an occupation.
"That's right…" she nodded and accepted the answer before scaring off a chill by pulling the jacket tight again.
That portion of his being was not one to be forgotten.
"Well, I'm glad I could bribe you into that," she said with a smirk. "So… to the boutique?"
"Unless there's anything else you have the urge to do in the rain." Immediately after the ambiguous comment, he turned and began toward his building. He could almost feel the way her jaw hung slack in incredulity while her eyes bore a hole in the back of his head. She couldn't help but wonder what he had meant by the comment.
Once a good distance down the sidewalk, he heard her take up a quick pace to join him at the door. If she had really taken any offense to the comment, her eyes did not show it as he opened the door for her. Perhaps she'd decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. He saw her through the door and they crossed the hall to the opposite door which spilled into the ramshackle garage attached to the apartments.
At the first of the concrete columns, he was grateful to remember that he'd happened to leave his keys in the pocket of the leather coat that Tifa wore. When they neared the gun metal beast parked in the spot between two columns, a tradition of his to avoid the dents and dings that come from parking near other vehicles, he turned his gaze toward her.
"Check the left pocket of that coat," he said. Tifa worked her hand into the pocket and felt around, soon producing a simple set of two keys attached to a fob with door controls.
She held the keys out between her thumb and forefinger and he accepted them, pressing the round grey button. The shapely lamps on the front of the car flashed while a small chirp ricocheted off the dry walls. A brow rose high on Tifa's forehead, her lips shaping a delicate 'O.'
It occurred to him that she hadn't seen his latest indulgence.
"New car?" she asked, lacking words.
"I told you I like to indulge," he replied, eyes gliding over the smooth surface. He'd chosen the color aptly called 'gun metal' for a reason. The curves on the two door, muscular frame had also attracted him. Perhaps the most enticing detail, the interior with leather and comfort abound.
"I think that's an understatement." In that moment, he saw a strange expression cross her face. If he could have read her mind, he would have known that she was wondering what had happened to the brooding Vincent who joined a band of so called heroes in Nibelheim. Of course, he'd slowly come out of that lately, though she'd not noticed due to her own issues. He also would have known that she was finding herself in quite the predicament due to his kindness over the past months. Little did he know that she had often wished she had the nerve to choose him over Cloud.
Once he'd opened the passenger door, Tifa settled down into the dark seat while he shut the door cautiously. He came around and slid the key into the ignition while closing his door. Once the engine roared to life, their outing began with the shift of gears.
"Thanks again for taking me," Tifa said while watching the parked cars on the way to the exit.
"It's no trouble at all." The car eased over the small divot where the driveway connected with the street and he glanced to the right before rounding the corner and heading toward the intersection ahead.
"You really are perfect, you know." To this, Tifa scrunched her nose and smiled at him. Since when had he become perfect?
"That's not true," and you shouldn't say such things, lest I fall even more in love with you.
"I think it is," she finalized the thought and turned her head to glance out the window, idly running her fingers through cold, damp strands of espresso. A breathy sigh pushed steam onto the window and she fidgeted in the seat. "Do you think he even cares that I left?"
Certainly not the follow up he'd hoped for. With his eyes on the road ahead as they passed a green light, he worked through his mind to find the right words. "I'm sure he does."
"Are you just saying that to be nice?" She tilted her head; peering around the obstruction of his hair to catch a glimpse of what she hoped would be a face to reveal the truth. To her disappointment, he kept an unpretentious demeanor. Though, inwardly, he was a little disappointed that she was so skeptical of his concern.
"I'm not. I think he cares, in his own deluded way." With lips straight as a ruler, he ventured a look in her direction. A miscalculated error. The disappointment riding her eyes and lips sunk his heart.
"Deluded…way?" she choked out the words as if they burned her tongue.
"Tifa, his actions are not those of an honest man. He has good intentions, but no knowledge of how to convey such things correctly." There it was, lain out on the table for her to see. Clearly, the thought troubled her. The truth of his words should not have been any surprise to her, yet she trembled visibly. It affected him to see her so distraught, but he was tired of playing into her destructive ways. He didn't much feel like claiming any guilt over the path she'd end up on if she allowed Cloud his quixotic liberties.
"I know…" she began, sorrow lingering from the tips of her fingers as she twisted a lock of hair nervously. "I shouldn't be so naïve."
The last thing he wanted her to do was to blame herself. The fault was not hers to bear, though the fact that she'd allowed so much harm to come to herself from her acceptance of Cloud's behavior was another story. When he slowed for a red light, her fingers came beneath his chin and directed his face toward hers. He was taken aback by the motion, and looked to her with vague curiosity.
"Am I so unlovable?" she beseeched. Her bottom lip quivered, but her attempts to hold back any tears proved strong, as not a single one spilled. The idea that she would even dream to ask such a question perturbed him. Tifa was many things, but unlovable was far from any word he would appoint to her. The absurd question brought his brows together and curved a slight frown on his features.
"You should not blame yourself…" he said in a low tone, redirecting his eyes to the light as it turned green. He pushed his weight into the accelerator and listened to the gurgled hum of the engine as they moved down the street. The houses and buildings stretched along the sidewalks stood lifeless due to the rain. The town was usually bustling, especially near the market. However, most were indoors hiding away from the looming clouds. Over precautious would perfectly describe the townspeople, as the storm had not yet hit when they disappeared.
"I let this happen…" she said emptily, averting her eyes to the foot well.
"Tifa…" He was at a loss for words. Saying any more to put Cloud down would likely draw her defenses, but he couldn't bring himself to give her anymore false hopes. Doing so had only deepened the grip her emotions had on her.
As quickly as the frown had set upon her lips, she covered it with a weary grin and pointed out the boutique just a few hundred yards up. "That's the one." The subject had changed so abruptly, he was caught on the verge of what he wanted to say, but promptly left it to dwell on his mind.
Vincent kept his silence and approached the store, slowing to follow the corner through into a parking lot down the strip of stores. There weren't very many cars in the lot and he picked a spot quickly, pulling the car in straight. The engine cut when he turned the key and removed it, thus enveloping them in an eerie silence. There were many things he would have liked to say, but none dared to leave his tongue. Was she on the verge of many words, as well?
After a moment, Tifa shifted and leaned her elbow against the seat, facing him with urgency. "You have to stop me… I really want to call him. Don't let me."
How was he going to distract her from calling? A part of him thought of kissing her while she faced him, just a foot away. The same impulsive side of him that had led to the dance just a little while ago. Then again, he did not want to sacrifice the relationship they'd forged in an irrational action. The line he wanted to cross was a line he also sought to preserve.
Rather than ask her how it was she wanted him to stop her, he opened the door and climbed out only to circle the car and open her door. "I've heard shopping is a good distraction." So it wasn't the sort of distraction he preferred, but it would do.
"You're right," she said with a half-hearted laugh.
She exited the car and waited for him to close the door and begin toward the store. The rain had lightened since they left the café, forever on a whimsical schedule. She felt much like the rain, pouring out one moment and reserved the next. Her moods had swung with full force the past couple of days, and it unsettled her. She wasn't one to appreciate that sort of behavior in others; it was only natural that it agitated her.
Once they entered the boutique, Vincent felt a little out of his element. It seemed that Tifa was, as well. The clothing hanging from displays reminded him more of Aerith, in shades of pastels and bright pinks. He really couldn't imagine Tifa in a pink dress.
"Wow…" she marveled at the bold designs, not in favor, but in disappointment. "This used to be a—" Finally, she caught sight of a few rows of decent clothing toward the back of the store. It seemed that even retailers were caught in the hope for an early spring, boasting such clothing in the front and pushing the dark clothing in the back.
She quickly waded through the store, settling before a rack full of black, white, brown and deep red. These were colors he could picture her wearing. Perhaps out of complacency, since he'd only ever known her to wear muted colors. She ran her fingers across several outfits, inspecting the threading and cut of the shirts and skirts. Skirts did not strike her fancy, obviously, for she quickly pushed them back in the rack. It was not really the season for skirts.
"See anything?" Vincent asked thoughtfully, watching as she plucked two black shirts from the rack and compared them.
"I guess. I really don't like shopping…" she mused while sticking one of the shirts back into place.
"You're picky, aren't you?" When she looked to him with a grin, he returned with a smirk.
"I am. I've never been able to find much that I like," she replied. "This might take a while; you don't have to stand around while I search through all this."
How he appreciated her thoughtfulness. "Take your time," he said as he made his way to the bench near the shoe section. He took a seat, watching her while she went to the task of finding a few decent outfits to wear.
Earlier, she'd asked how long she could keep him. The only answer that had come to mind was one that would have likely startled her. Now, as he sat with his arms crossed over his chest, he wondered how long she would be staying. She had expressed her desire to avoid calling Cloud, which led him to believe that she had no intention of going home tonight, either. She seemed content to take her time doing whatever, in no hurry to ask him to drive her home. She hadn't even asked him what he thought she should do, or if he thought she should return. To say the least, this was odd.
Again, he was left to wonder what the future would bring. This time, he wondered what the evening would hold, and when she might decide to return to Seventh Heaven.
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Well, I gave into impulse myself. I began this chapter with one thing in mind, and by the end I was thinking… Where did that come from? The dance was really a spur of the moment idea that really tied some things together. Now—I hope I did not kill this for anyone. I actually realize how … odd this concept of Vincent giving into Tifa's little request is. That was precisely the point, as expressed in the paragraphs surrounding that little piece. It was a bit cheesy, but I like what the subtext is. I imagine that Vincent would be rusty with dancing, but I always thought that was perhaps one romantic skill he might have. Tifa certainly strikes me as a girl who would enjoy a sweet dance.
So, do tell me what you think of this chapter. I don't want to lose anyone by giving into whims, as sometimes I can get caught up in ideas and things that are sometimes different.
And I must confess. I do picture Vincent in a gun metal grey Aston Martin V12 Vanquish. Just a personal opinion that I might have interjected in this chapter.
The next chapter will be speeding things along a little better, as there will be a little bit of a surprise for Tifa ;) I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, and again I hope that I have done well with it.