For My Eyes Only

Chapter Two: My Resolution

The week was a blur and in some ways that allowed for it be nothing but effortless. Everything was fluid and simple—simple until Saturday night. That night everything came unglued—my emotions threatened to smother me. If only I had known earlier.

Blaise and I were seated in a fancy, chandelier lit, ballroom sized restaurant that Saturday night. In six whole days it was the first hour I'd ever spent with Reno not lingering in a section of my thoughts and I loved it. The grounds for him appearing in my mind's eye was his emergence from the ruthless winter with Yuffie on his arm that very night. His hand loitered on the small of her back until they were escorted to their table and he separated with ease, as if it was nothing. Bile rose in my throat, though I was forced to tear my eyes apart from them to Blaise, grinning athwart me. Abruptly an icy knife accompanied my nausea. Here I was, with my boyfriend in this grandeur restaurant, with another man occupying my mind instead of the one who should be. That occupying man and his Yuffie consumed me. And she was so damn beautiful that night with the sparkle of the chandelier perfectly accentuating every subtle feature that formulated her exquisiteness. I admitted it that night and still to this day I admit it—she was so damn pretty.

Even now I ponder on how fortuitous, or not, that Reno, at first, did not detect in the slightest my presence in that ballroom sized restaurant that evening. As my strained fortune could only grant, however, I swayed directly past him to the bathroom that night. From my peripheral vision I observed him and as always he showed no sign whatsoever—of surprise, of disappointment, of delight, or ofanything—of spotting me. He hardly tore his eyes away from Yuffie at all—and who could blame him?

In any case, he eventually pardoned himself to the restroom. As I reminisce, I always laugh at that choice. Even when some gorgeous girl is willing to put up with his occasionally irksome antics, he abandons her for me, of all people. "Hi," I greet as he approaches me, with nothing better to say. The bathrooms were cornered into a cramped corridor, providing for the opportune moment to clandestinely converse with one another—I was thankful for that in the least.

"Didn't expect to see you here," he smirks, leaning against the wall and disregarding the fact that his boots could leave grimy residue against it. Then again, that's no more and no less than Reno.

"Back at ya', but you should leave, I got here first." I grinned, though a percentage of me really did want him to just disappear, and that fraction of me wanted to never see him again.

"Not a chance, babe, I'm having a good time." His trademark smirk lingered a while longer, his remarkable blue eyes darting from me to the door, assuring himself that Yuffie was still seated at their table, and indeed she was.

I imagined me sitting there, Yuffie in my place. For some reason, I'd much rather have it that way. I didn't care if he cheated on me, I would cheat on him—but I needed him to be something more than superficial. It was seemed so much more realistic in that way, to cheat with someone gorgeous, not something so average. I allowed my mind to wander, picturing us at the table, laughing, and Yuffie and Blaise elsewhere, maybe not even there at all. We'd exit the restaurant, Reno clutching me as I shivered against the rigid cold. Off we'd go to nowhere in particular, but that would've been okay because he would've been there, I could've flaunted him. Instead, I lock him away, a secret only we can share and I realize that it's been eating at me all along.

Our meeting was, however, evanescent as he ended it abruptly with a kiss, returning to his girlfriend. Moments later I emerged from that corridor and seated myself at the table with Blaise who smiled, covering Reno's touch with his lips. Suddenly I felt irate that he had to do that—I longed for Reno's kiss, not his.

The preceding night I compelled myself to set aside my perplexed thoughts on Reno to bask in the pleasure of having him there, of having him around me and only inches away. And for the superior fraction of the night, that was heaven. Yet as I basked and he slept I came to a final decision: It was never supposed to end up like this, it was never meant to go past a one night stand, and yet here I am and I feel as if he's for my eyes only. And none of this was morally sound.

The following morning occurred as with any other, any other besides Monday. That Monday he was not aroused from his slumber to awake me for the day. That Monday he discovered an empty bed, an empty bathroom, and an empty apartment. Once more, he was left in peace. That morning I awoke next to someone who really deserved it and that was not a man with flaming red hair, bright blue eyes, and symmetrical scars on his cheekbones—that wild man was for Yuffie, not me.

In the end, I was the loser and someone so much more superior was finally the victor. There was no deception in our conclusion and our resolution was honest—for once.

Sometimes I'd still imagine how he reacted when the subsequent Sundays later I never appeared at his door, on his couch, on his bed, or in his bathtub. My vanishing was finalized when everything was wiped away—I forgot him entirely.

That is, until this morning in my bakery. The outright nerve of him to waltz inside and smirk at me, as if catching me in some elaborate crime, struck me. Politely I served him and I knew when my stomach didn't lurch with excitement or long for his attention and his alluring eyes to be once more captivated by me in my revealing uniform that I was only so strongly infatuated with him at the time. Now, he was only a memory—never saved in photographs or writing, only my memory, which would one day fail me as wizened ones always do.

This morning, though, I held my tongue against all manner of venomous goodbyes and for once, something sincere followed a shady creature out that door.

"Tell Yuffie that Estelle's so sorry."

The End

And so it is, a two page (in Word, at least) finale on the intricate, dirty, repulsive relationship of Reno and a morally corrupt original character. It actually was my intent for nobody to really favor her, so no worries if you genuinely despise her. This was somewhat of an experiment in a story that isn't all butterflies and gumdrops in the end, and I'm content with it.

Yes, her real name was Estelle. Yes, she lied.

To JingYee: Yes, Reno actually does like Yuffie.

Thanks to both my reviewers JingYee and so-mi1.

To everyone else, hope you review and whatnot!