Broken Wings - Chapter Seventeen
"Are you all right on your own, Aralyn?"
Most of the walk had been spent in silence, but he stopped now and again in consideration of her condition. Though she tried to hide it, the walk was very taxing on her. Vincent did not seem to mind a brief respite now and again. This, however, was the first time he'd spoken to her. She blushed as she realized how hard her breathing was.
"I'm fine," she said, gasping to catch her breath.
"You don't look 'fine'."
"I'll be all right," she assured him. "Really."
He shook his head. "If you insist."
"Hey, Vincent," she interjected into the silence that had followed.
He didn't vocally acknowledge that he'd heard her, but she knew he was listening.
"Why did you really come?"
He began walking, turning so coldly away that she thought she had offended him in some way. She worked hard to keep up with him so that she could pick up any sign on how he had actually taken it. He gave none. She assumed that this was normal.
"You're not going to answer me, are you?"
"No."
Another long, awkward silence. Vincent seemed unaffected by the haunting calls of the creatures of the night and the dead stillness when they paused their cries. Aralyn's spine prickled, and she desperately tried to get him to talk.
"Thank you. For finding me a job, I mean."
"Save your thanks for after your first day. As things turn out, this may be a curse." His tone clearly implied that the subject was closed, and she inwardly sighed. It was hard to get any answers from him.
It was dark now, the stars were bright and the moon absent from the sky. She could barely make out her apartment complex's old sign. Many letters had burned out, and while most still shone neon green, the sign still read "SH RE GARDE S."
"That's where I live," she pointed out.
Vincent didn't reply, though his frown deepened significantly.
They walked onward in silence, Aralyn instinctively drawing closer to her guard as the lighting got poorer. He looked at her strangely.
"You don't like the dark." It was a statement.
"No."
"Hmm."
No more conversation was carried on until she reached the front door. She reached into her pocket, fishing out a solitary key and opening the door.
"Can I get you something to drink? You did come all this way."
"No," he said. Then, in an effort to be polite and soften the edge of his tone he added, "Thank you." He turned, speaking to her without moving his head to look at her. "For your new job, be at Strife's as soon as you can tomorrow. Do you need an escort?"
"Oh no…no. Vincent, you didn't…!"
"Cloud and the others are, as of yet, unaware of your affiliation with Sephiroth. I will work to keep it that way."
"No, I can't take it…"
"You will." He turned and used the full force of his crimson eyes on her. "Or you will accept Rufus's offer."
Aralyn slumped against the doorframe. "I can't do it."
"Is it because Cloud is the one that killed Sephiroth?"
"No…my Sephiroth was dead long before…"
"Is there any other valid argument you wish to present then?"
Aralyn was quiet. Vincent nodded. "I'll be here tomorrow morning."
She didn't wait for him to leave. She closed the door slowly, turning on the single light in the bathroom to serve as her nightlight. She found her way to her bed, then slid under the covers, buried her head in her pillow and wept.
A/N: It is eleven thirty at night. I am tired. I physically evicted my brother from World of Warcraft to type. You CANNOT say that I am not a dedicated writer after this. Not that any of you did...you've all been wonderful. Thank you, and I will chop "Hojo" as many times as I can for you all!