Author's Notes: Sequel in sorts to Death/Temple of the Ancients. Oh, and Requiem is a mass said for the dead, or a song written for such a mass.
Theme: Lovers
Requiem of a Love
No shock was written in those dark eyes. Not even a visible flinch as the verdict is passed upon us. Suddenly I'm at a loss to find any emotion, real or imagined, shining through those cold, dead eyes. Try as I might, I find it is all for naught.
My words have been said, leaving me aching with the need to hear something, anything at all from those pale lips. Yet there is nothing to satisfy that need in me. It is almost as if you are made of marble. So instead I allow my senses one last memory of you. They linger upon the brush of your silky hair against my cheek.
It is the memory of just after Sector 7 fell, the night you saved me from myself. The scent is of the hospital room, so cold and sterile… kind of like you without the harsh lighting. The sound is rain pelting against the windows and monitors beeping, whirring and whistling. The sight is your perfect face, so close to mine. The taste is your lips, sweet like honey, bitter like coffee, and salty like your tears all at once.
That was the moment I realized I loved you. It was pain and pleasure wrapped up in shock for hours after you left my bedside. I yearned to understand you, understand me… and understand us. So suddenly my life was as clear as a crystal, like it had never been before. From that moment on I lived for you.
And yet, my lover, you betrayed that. All the nights in bed, all the days sneaking kisses… I wish I could ask you now if they meant anything. When you called me Aibou, were you serious or just flattering me? Did you ever actually love me as I loved you?
Did you know that I cried, my sweet lover, when I saw you there, dying before my eyes? I was so close to abandoning everything: my mission; my job; my life; so that I could see you live. To think that you could give your life for a company that cased all your pains. And you did it without hesitating.
"Sir," you say, looking up from the report you had looked away to sign. "Is there a problem?"
I shake my head. The only problem I ever had was loving you so much, Aibou.
"No Tseng."
"Good," you respond, returning to the report and your day full of work. "Oh, and I expect you are still available to consult next week on the structure of the buildings we must deal with in our upcoming mission."
"Of course," I say, turning to leave the room.
For a moment it almost feels as if your eyes are upon my back. But that cannot be. You never loved me enough to care, now did you? Oh, what a fool I was to ask you to leave with me. We both know that we could escape, and that the Turks would leave too. No one would ever hurt us, especially with Shin-Ra's downfall pending.
I accept it at last, and walk out of the room. Yet I cannot help but think that it would have been better for you to have died my sweet lover.