Warning: This chapter may be considered dark.

Chapter 15

It wasn't until much later that Tifa returned to the Seventh Heaven, still simmering with raging pain. She closed the door behind her, and leaned against it in the dark. Her face glowered at the floorboards beneath her feet, her lips dry, her jaws clenched, and her nose flaring with angry exhalations.

Who. Was. He? Who was he to call her name as he made love to someone else in her home? Who was he to kiss her not long after and pretend he didn't know? Who was he to be jealous and angry over a man who actually paid her attention? Who was he to use other people? Who was he?!

Tifa's red rimmed eyes continued to narrow and lose focus. Not even the severe, physical extremes she pushed herself to could have lessened the anguish of learning that as the man she loved, fornicated with some strange, perfect woman, he cried her own name, in her own home, perhaps knowing that she would know. What was he trying to prove? That he loved her?! It was certainly a sick way to display it.

The lines of blood that had coagulated on her wounded arms pulled at her skin as she flexed in another wave of indignation. The cuts had already stopped stinging, but re-opened when she tightened her muscles. She had sprinted out of the city once she had left the tea shop, running, and running until she reached the sea, looking towards the west and Costa Del Sol's golden beaches.

She had annihilated anything that came in her path. Behemoths, Devil Riders, Grosspanzers, Fangs, and Prowlers, were simply slaughtered when they had the misfortune of not only choosing to attack her but being caught by her as well. Tifa sought the monsters. She sought the mindless rage she could lose herself to as her fists flew, the exhilaration that came with knowing that at any time she could be mortally wounded – and not caring.

She was done chasing him. She was done caring for him. She was done pretending that his caring actions meant anything at all. She was done… done…

Tifa raised her hardened eyes up to the man standing with his back to her, facing the pictures on the wall by the stairs. She wondered how long he had stood there, somewhat surprised, somewhat touched that he had stayed so long waiting for her. His presence, settled her, but left her feeling hollow.

She watched him as he studied the pictures on the wall, pausing on a certain few, as if they held more significance to him. It surprised her that he was studying these still, considering how much time he spent in her bar, but then again, it was Vincent. When would he ever stop surprising her?

Tifa felt slightly bad for wishing that he would leave, quite honestly. She felt her exhaustion begin to consume her and wished for nothing but to pull her quilt up to her chin and bury her head in her pillows; maybe after she treated her wounds. Perhaps he would get the hint if she started to head to bed? She smirked viciously as a dark thought entered her head – Perhaps he'll come with me, and I can scream out Cloud's name. She hated herself just a bit more for thinking that, knowing that she would never, ever use Vincent, or anyone, in such a way.

She took a deep breath and tried to extinguish her anger, allowing the physical fatigue to settle in. Soundlessly, she crossed the bar and stood next to him with her arms behind her back. "Thank you for waiting, Vincent… I'm, sorry that I didn't come back right away."

He didn't respond, but continued to stare at the photo of Tifa, standing next to the sitting Cloud at the Golden Saucer, posing on the stairs of the Ghost Hotel. She sighed and looked at the clock, which told her that the sun would be rising in about four hours.

The faux yawn she began ended as a large, real, jaw-popping yawn as she stretched her arms behind her and stretched up onto her toes, rolling her head to crack her neck and looking back at the clock. With a glance over at Vincent, she started to make her way to the stairwell, noticing that he hadn't moved. She couldn't exactly kick him out… that would be rude, but… perhaps he needed some help reliving their memories?

"Hey, um… Do you want to come up?" She blurted after a moment's hesitation, pausing at the bottom step and looking over her shoulder. She held her breath and bit her tongue, half wanting him to ignore her sudden invitation and half wanting to kick herself for her brashness. She didn't miss the flicker of surprise that momentarily crossed his face. "I – I mean, I have more photos in my room… if you want to see them."

Vincent held her eyes as he nodded and followed her up the stairs silently, seemingly oblivious to the fresh blood that dripped down her arm. Tifa had turned around and made an exasperated expression at her expense, rolling her eyes upward and clenching her teeth, silently mouthing curses. Her hand paused on her doorknob as she consciously reminded herself how this would be the first time she and Vincent would be alone in her bedroom, and the first time she had been alone with anyone but Cloud. She was exhilarated in a twisted way but couldn't help the heavy feeling of dread creeping into her gut.

She opened the door and let him pass by into the room with a bowed head, glancing up to him through her lashes, waiting until he stopped in the middle of her room before closing the door behind her. She watched as he looked around, only skimming over the photos on her gray walls, paying more attention to the items that made the room her own. His crimson eyes rested on her pillow, her curtains, her clothes, and her leather gloves.

"I still haven't painted the walls yet," Tifa said softly, almost apologetically, walking passed to perch on her bed.

"Where is your knight, Tifa?" Vincent wasted no time and queried bluntly, picking up a picture frame with a photo of herself with Cloud and the kids from her nightstand, apparently studying it.

"My…?" She cocked her head to the side and frowned at him.

"He has not been tracking you lately. Why?" He set down the picture.

"Tracking… do you mean Cloud? He doesn't-"

He cut her off, "Would you prefer the term 'stalking'?"

"Cloud… does, does not stalk me." Tifa defended incredulously.

"He doesn't when you're at the Seventh Heaven, because he knows where you are. It's when you leave that he follows… like a puppy." Vincent very nearly smiled. "He continues to protect you, Tifa, most often when you're not even aware of it. Nothing will change that." He fixed her with an intense look. "Not even me." He sat next to her on the bed, creating a deep indent that tilted her towards him causing her to knock into his shoulder. Tifa righted herself with an embarrassed smile and crossed her arms over her chest.

Tifa wondered where all this came from. Had he been thinking about this for a while? She wanted to ask him what he meant by what he said, but instead she wanted to know something else, "Vincent… how would you know that? Does that mean… that you were 'stalking' me as well?"

This time, Vincent's lips did curl into a small, very slight smile. He said nothing, but he looked away towards the door, almost as if he expected Cloud to barge in at that very moment.

She looked sideways at Vincent, running her eyes along his profile and imagining what he would have looked like when he was with the Turks. She could picture him in a black suit and shorter hair without his bandanna, openly showing his handsome face to the world. She had already seen him once before without his bandanna and could physically remember the warmth that had spread through her body and pooled in certain areas that surprised her. Tifa blushed at that memory, but it didn't take away from her confidence and with bated breath, she began to lean into him.

Screw waiting for Cloud and keeping silly promises. Forget pretty, china dolls and destiny. Vincent was the one here, was the one sitting on her bed, was the one that cared enough to actually be there for her and not be some far off goal that she could never reach, no matter how fast she ran. She flicked her eyes to his, absently licking her lips, and then focusing on his.

Tifa was going to kiss him. She was not questioning why but inwardly knew that he wasn't going to take this step and if he wouldn't then she would. She had to learn how to love someone other than Cloud and this man next to her… was looking like her best hope to do so. Tifa had a momentary twinge of guilt as that thought flew past her, but she quickly justified it with the growing endearment he was to her. His presence, albeit intense, was comforting to her, simply because of its existence. He was there when she needed him to be and she knew that he would be in the times to come. This man, so cloaked in guilt, didn't run from his sins and even though he was so heavily burdened, he didn't let them ruin his life. He was someone Tifa could rely on… could… love?

Vincent turned to look at her and realized how close she was, he stood abruptly and took three paces away, keeping his back to her but watching her through her mirror. Tifa immediately felt ashamed. Perhaps she had been reading too much into his actions? Hadn't he been showing interest in her for all these months?

"Once you do that, you can never return." His gruff voice carried over to her, speaking at her reflection. "You can never take it back."

Tifa looked at his face in the mirror and slowly shook her head with puckered brows. "I know…"

"You couldn't possibly know what you'd get yourself in to. No one can love me. You cannot, you do not." Vincent, ever the master of shadows, turned his face just so that it was hidden from her, regardless of the mirror he faced. Tifa started to understand. Just as she was not allowed to cry, Vincent was not allowed to experience love.

"I could!" Tifa exclaimed, taking a step forward with her hand clasping the ring on her necklace, and an earnest expression. "You can't say that… that no one can."

"You… love a monster… like me?" His voice was surprisingly light, as if it held hope and faith in her words while simultaneously sounding dubious, but his eyes didn't match his tone. They were narrowed in a sharp shrewdness, as if he were seeing something blind to her despite it standing right in front of her face.

Tifa could hear her heart thumping faster in her ears, holding her ground as Vincent stalked nearer, slowly and intently. A sick feeling began to sour her stomach inexplicably, but her body flushed as she felt his hand ghost over her face, running his fingertips so lightly along her temple and jaw. He lowered his head, never lifting his eyes from hers, so close that she could see the black rings surrounding his irises and his pupils dilating to keep her in focus.

"Maybe I am a monster." Vincent replied, his voice as lush as crushed velvet. Suddenly, Tifa was on her back and the large, tall man was above her, malevolently holding down her wrists to the bed. Too shocked to react Tifa could only stare up in disbelief, sluggishly trying to process this unrealistic situation.

This wasn't Vincent. He wouldn't do this, her mind kept supplying; ardently refusing to believe he was capable of this position he put them in.

"Maybe you should be afraid of me," He growled, his face lowering within a breath's reach of hers. "Am I so harmless that you'll invite me into your bedroom and not worry what I might do? What Cloud might think?"

Tifa reclaimed her anger. "Why would I care what Cloud might think?"

"Are you saying that you don't?"

"I'm saying that what I do or do not do is of any concern to him."

Vincent's hands tightened on her wrists to the point that it actually did start to hurt her. She winced nearly imperceptibly, but with his proximity to her, it wasn't hard to miss.

"Why are you doing this, Vincent?!"

"Do I need a reason?"

Whatever she had opened her mouth to say was lost and forgotten when Vincent's hips came crashing down onto hers. He covered her mouth with his hand after switching so that his gauntlet covered hand held her wrists. Tifa began to struggle, bucking and writhing, trying to wrench her limbs from under him but he was too strong, too heavy, and too large.

"I could destroy you right now. I could tear through your flesh and bone," Vincent's growl was inhuman as he stared into Tifa's eyes, mocking her. "But that's not the worst I could do-"

"You wouldn't." Tifa whispered angrily against his hand, narrowing her fiery red eyes.

"I could ruin you," he continued, his breath fanning her face, making the situation all the more real to her. "In so many ways."

The slowness of his last threat made her heart beat icily. A wash of cold realization covered her as she heard the promise in his words, and could clearly see the intent in his yellowing eyes.

In that moment, however, as the understanding reached her own eyes and before she could panic and fight in renewed desperation, Vincent released her.

His eyes suddenly softened and a corner of his lips lifted briefly as he rolled off of her, getting to his feet and crossing the room, setting as much distance between them as he could in her room.

Tifa exhaled the large breath she had drawn to scream, taking more deep, calming breaths to sooth her adrenaline soaked heart. She stared up at the ceiling with wide, nonplussed eyes, slowly bringing her hands to her chest, to rub her aching wrists; her muscles were tingling. Her head turned towards him, taking in his seemingly normal appearance and conveyed her message to him with questioning eyes, tightening her brow in upward wariness, letting him know that her trust in him had been broken. "Why… Vincent…?"

"To show you that your knight won't always come when you're in danger. And that makes you afraid."

"Whenever I'm in trouble, my hero will come and rescue me. I want to at least experience that once."

She gingerly swung her legs off of the bed and stared at him, clearly stung by his words. The fighter knew however, that he was right. It was something that she had realized long before when her girlish ideals had evaporated. She had clung to Cloud's promise because it was the only innocent, pure wish she had left. Even though she clung to and believed in it, she inwardly knew that such fairy tale rescues only happened in fairy tales.

Had she been afraid? She touched her hand to her chest again, feeling her heart thump wildly against her fingertips. Yes, she had been…but she hadn't been afraid for herself. She stood and walked to him cautiously, not letting him look away from her pained eyes.

"And to make you realize that you still want him. If you wanted me, Tifa, if you really didn't care what Cloud thought, you wouldn't have been afraid."

Tifa punched him. Hard. A strong, right hook, followed by a straight punch to his solar plexus.

"I don't care what you tried to teach me, don't you EVER do that again," Tifa spat viciously, shaking with rage and yes, even with the fear he had been trying to show her.

The man in red wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand and stood back up from the ground he had been knocked to. "I am sorry, Tifa. But I felt it best to show you, to make you realize how you still feel for him… there is nothing that I can do to change that." He looked away, his voice thick. "I do want you Tifa, but not in a pure way. I will be forever tainted by my sins and forever caught in the dark of man and beast."

Vincent turned back to her, catching her gaze with an intense, arduous heat. He seemed to be inwardly fighting something, and whichever side won made his eyes shine with some strong emotion. "I want you Tifa…" He exhaled deeply and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her to him for a kiss so passionate she felt the heat in her toes. Her eyes automatically closed as her mouth moved with his, allowing him entrance but denied her own. Vincent's kiss was completely dominating her, as if it wasn't supposed to be for their mutual enjoyment but simply taking for his own pleasure.

It was as if Vincent knew that this was his first and only kiss with Tifa. That she belonged with another, one who had loved her so purely for so long that it was practically sinful to even be taking this from her. And even though she reacted so beautifully, she did not touch him with her hands. She did not embrace him or lay her hand upon his chest or lovingly run it through his hair. This was a woman misguided and confused. This was a woman who was trying her best to not feel the pain and to take love where she could.

As soon as Vincent ended the kiss he pulled her roughly against his heaving chest, embracing her tightly, desperately, and almost angrily. "I want you Tifa…but I don't think that I can love you."

This was a woman whose shattered heart was being ground into dust.

AN: Well.... that's it. I know there's potentially going to be some rather mad people out there, but I hoped you enjoyed it nevertheless. Please tell me what you think. :)