Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VII and its characters belong to Square Enix and many others. Sadly, I'm not one of them.
Revised and edited January 7, 2007.
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Metathesiophobia or, Moving Forward
By Lady Calliope
Part Eleven: Ommatophobia
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Her eyes darted around the room like two terrified red fish, never settling on any one place, never even acknowledging me. Pink flesh darted out to wet her cracked lips, an odd kind of self-deprecating almost-smile on her face. She was shaking like a giant in the earth.
"So, I, uh…I just wanted you to know. In case you start cracking fat jokes and wonder why I'm not laughing."
We both know I think she's knock-your-breath-out stunning in all ways. A flush was creeping up her neck, threatening to swallow her whole. I attempted to hold her in place with my eyes, but she had chosen flight over fight before this conversation even began.
"I'll see you around. I think you…I think I need to sleep."
I refused to let her go like that, so scared she couldn't even meet my gaze. But I also couldn't tell her what I wanted her to hear. Not yet. Not right now.
"Go to bed, Tif. I'll be sleepin' on the couch if you need me."
She knew me better than to argue. I don't know what I expected from this night, from that promise—I was just certain I'd never be able to close my eyes in sleep knowing she was across town staring at the bare ceiling of her room, one hand on her belly.
Nonetheless, I can't say I wasn't warmer than I could ever remember with her tucked up against me on her lumpy, sloping couch. Her footsteps had been remarkably quiet for someone who had stumbled, half-awake, into my arms at 3AM. Soft breaths and deep sleep were the only explanations she gave me. I didn't mind.
"Hey, you know…I'm pregnant. I'm gonna be a mom, Cid."
Her words had been soft, disbelieving. And although I hadn't planned a contingency for something like this, nothing had really changed. Part of me wondered why I hadn't expected him to do this to her: he never saw past the present. But the kid's father was gone, and I couldn't tear myself away from the mother for all my self-doubts. There was only one option, and for once I didn't hesitate, didn't weigh the consequences.
Before I drifted off to oblivion, fingers stroking her hair, I wondered if the kid would have her eyes.