Chapter 3

The Balcony

Vincent glued himself to the shadows, inner reflections his only company as he found solitude on a balcony overlooking the beach. Though his embarrassment had waned, he still felt like a hormonal teenager who'd been swept away in music, atmosphere, and youthful beauty for a dance or two.

Weddings. Not my thing.

Long years had passed since he had attended one, and many had occurred since that time. Life had endured without him while he'd slept in a haunted basement. His old friends and colleagues reached their senior years while he appeared young, preserved physically around 30 years of age. He had pined and lingered while they had long since married and made families, watching now as their children married and had children of their own.

Vincent couldn't help but feel his fate was isolation; he would never personally experience the joys of marriage or family. Those dreams had long since vanished, lost to the immoral abyss of ShinRa's drive for dominance.

No point in dwelling on that now. Vincent had forever to think about it. The cursed cells returned to their usual, pulsating strength. His brief respite from the incessant torture ended with the rush of cool air her absence left behind.

He regretted his awkward and sudden retreat and hoped Tifa didn't feel mortified over the dramatic scene. It had been decades since he had allowed himself to be so near a woman. His visceral reaction—surprised him. Caught him off-guard and feeling a little exposed. He'd lost himself in her feminine touch—that much he could admit to himself. And though at times it had been challenging to pretend he was blind to her physical allure, he'd never allowed himself to think of Tifa in that light. There were so many reasons that couldn't happen.

Tifa strolled around the reception, searching out any familiar face to engage in conversation. Cloud and Barret guarded a keg, avoiding her altogether and deliberately evading the topic of her dance with Vincent and the way it must have looked to casual observers. She didn't care. Being treated as a desirable female felt nice. More than nice.

Tifa wandered onto a balcony, thinking herself lucky to find a secluded beach view. She rested her hands on the railing and stared at the moonlit shore, tasting salt in the air as the cool evening breeze washed over her bare shoulders. She closed her eyes, enjoying the soft music and the sound of waves splashing the shoreline. The atmosphere felt like a fairy-tale. "So beautiful," she said to herself.

She gasped as something rustled behind her.

"Easy there; it's only me." Vincent emerged into the moonlight.

"Oh, sorry," she said. "Whew! I thought no one was out here."

"That's why I came out here."

"Oh," she exhaled and swallowed the lurch in her chest. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"Don't worry. You're not one of the annoying ones."

"Keeping a list?" she joked.

But he said nothing in return.

Tifa stared at him as an uncomfortable silence filled the space between them. She turned back to view the ocean, leaning her forearms against the railings, hoping he didn't sense her awkwardness.

Vincent propped himself against the metal rails with his back toward the ocean. He watched her curiously as Tifa's nerves jittered under her skin. She avoided his eyes and chipped at a fingernail, finding him harder to talk to after their intimate dance.

She laughed finally and said, "I can't believe Yuffie is married! Seems only yesterday she was stealing our materia and getting into trouble."

"They're a good match," Vincent replied. "He's a little clueless at times, needs someone to look after him."

"Yeah?" She propped her chin in her hand. "Just surprised, I guess. I thought her work was important. And she's still only—what? 21? 22?! So young."

"She's a fixture in the WRO. I have a feeling she'll keep him trailing after her." He turned toward the ocean and looked at her over his shoulder. "What about you?"

"Hmm?"

"No wedding?"

An uncomfortable smile was all she could muster. How often had she been asked that question over the last few years by caring friends and nosy customers? Vincent knew the history, knew the answer.

"Sorry," he said, genuine remorse flashing in his eyes. "I shouldn't have asked. Talking to people—I'm a little rusty."

"No, it's ok. Really," Tifa shook her head and smiled. "It's no big deal. Some things just aren't meant to be, I guess."

"So, you've moved on then?" he asked.

"Uh—well, almost?"

"You're not sure." He cocked his head, but it wasn't a question.

"It's complicated," she offered, not feeling like drudging up her past with Cloud.

"Always is," he chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess I don't have to tell you that," she mumbled in a low voice but then instantly regretted her words. Her hand flew up to her mouth. "Oh, Vincent, I—I'm sorry. That was insensitive."

"It's fine. Stop apologizing," his voice rattled. "But you're right."

His misery was exponentially worse than her own. Perhaps she didn't understand the depths of his loneliness. She squeezed his forearm. "Do you ever think of moving on, Vincent? Can you?" she asked sincerely.

He breathed deeply. "Honestly, I try not to think about it anymore."

"Lucrecia?"

He nodded, snorting at the mention of her name.

"Yeah, I guess I would do the same."

Tifa would probably never fully understand. There was so much that had gone wrong with Vincent's former lover. Her choices led to so much misery that had befallen the world. Her choices resulted in him. Her child, Sephiroth. The one who had taken the remains of Tifa's childhood and set her home in flames long ago. The one who had nearly destroyed the entire world.

"And what are you waiting for?" he asked when she had grown too quiet.

"What?"

"I think you already know how things will turn out. So why do you hold on to something that's not there?"

"Oh," she said, then smiled weakly, knowing if anyone understood, it would be Vincent. "Cloud is all I have left. We—are the only ones left. After we beat him, it made sense to make a home together. We're like family. And—"

Her voice faded, but Vincent remained silent as she struggled to justify the odd living arrangement with Cloud. Sure, for a little while, it seemed they were going to make a go at being a couple. But it never worked. And she was tired of trying to explain why they weren't married. She had grown weary of the whispers.

Cloud's hold on her wasn't because of some stupid adolescent promise or her unrequited love, as everyone believed. They were bound by their shared loss and the lingering trauma that accompanied it.

She knew everyone viewed her as a little pathetic. But what was she supposed to do? Where would he go if he didn't have their home to reach back to as a base? The last time Cloud had left, she discovered he had been sleeping in the rubble of the slums. She couldn't turn him out when he still had those odd episodes, reverting to a catatonic and confused mental state.

"And is there no room for anything or anyone else for you?" Vincent asked with genuine concern.

Vincent still assumed her affections hadn't changed, not that she blamed him. She never shared her feelings for Cloud aloud with any of her friends. And when her romantic feelings faded, Tifa felt even less of a reason to share. It changed nothing except that she no longer hoped for Cloud in that way.

"Everything will be ok if you do move on. Find someone else," Vincent continued, trying to assure her.

"Maybe I should." She smiled at him, resigned herself to the conversation. "I think I've just never really confronted my loneliness to the point that I could do something about it."

"It's scary," he replied. "But you're never really alone, not with so many friends. Maybe seek out others just as lonely. There's a unity in that—so fill the void together, even if it's just for a moment."

"Like a dance?" She winked at him.

"Yeah, like that," he chuckled.

The breeze carried the music, reminding her of his arms tightened around her, head lowered toward hers. It had been romantic and entirely unexpected. But, unlike her, Vincent didn't seem out of practice.

"And is that what you do when you're feeling most lonely, Vincent?" She canted her head to look at his face askance, more than a little curious about how he fills the void when—if—he's missing companionship. Surely, even Vincent gets lonely sometimes. "Seek out temporary companionship from someone who feels the same as you? A one-night stand kind of thing?"

"No, I haven't," he said in a tone that was almost scolding, but his grin told her he was teasing. "But seeing the way you've held yourself for Cloud makes me think I should."

He laughed as she feigned outrage. "You dare!" She smiled despite herself.

"I don't want to turn into a monolith of solitude just yet. So maybe."

She was surprised at that. Vincent didn't seem the sort to seek out one-night lovers, but he had been alone for a long time.

"If it gives you what you need, why not?" He continued at her raised eyebrows. "There's no hill you need to die on for Cloud. You've done so much for him already. So maybe it'll help you move on."

"Are you offering something to me now, Vincent?" she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

He glanced down at his feet, struck with shyness. Oh damn.

Her joke had caught him off-guard. A rush of heat rippled over her face and neck.

"I wasn't," he said gently. "The dance with you was beautiful. But I—"

"Yeah, no—I know," she cut him off, her voice tinged with her embarrassment over her innuendo. A stuttered laugh erupted from her mouth. Did he take that question seriously?

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. That's not what I meant, seriously. I'm used to the bar banter, you know?" She squeezed her eyes shut. Kill me now.

"Again, with the apologies. Stop being sorry."

"Yeah, ok." She laughed to ease her discomfort. "I'm not, just wasn't sure what to say," she offered, again scratching at a fingernail.

"Really, it's fine," he chuckled at her. "I misunderstood."

She looked up at him but kept fidgeting with her fingers. "You're making this worse, you know?" Ok, so harmless flirting with Vincent is a no.

He chuckled at her again. His smile seemed a permanent fixture since their dance, and she found it distracting.

"Ugh, yeah. Let's forget it!" She said and leaned her arms onto the railing. "I should just go back to my boring life and try not to make jokes anymore." She looked up at him and nodded in resolve. "Boredom is my friend."

"Boredom? What's that like?" He groaned a bit. "Still—you mentioned bar banter. I'm sure you have customers that show interest."

"Drunk customers? Ick," she spat out. "Not really my thing." She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and looked away.

She realized how strange it was to be talking to Vincent about the lack of romance in her life. He was usually aloof and even irritated with their friends' joking during journeys or reunions. Typically, Cloud, Cid, or Nanaki would be on the receiving end of his long conversations. But here he was with her on a balcony in the moonlight, talking about one-night stands and potential drunken barfly romances. She wondered why he was suddenly so concerned with her personal life. It seemed a little more than casual conversation.

"What's got you thinking about all of this, Vincent?" She finally asked. "I've never seen you like this."

He watched the waves crash for a moment before meeting her gaze.

"I don't want to see you turn out like me," he said, never looking away from her eyes. "You deserve happiness, Tifa. Don't wait around."

She could feel his sincerity but wanted everyone to stop worrying about her and Cloud.

"I'm not, you know." She said with a serious tone. She wanted him to understand. "Me and Cloud—it's not like that." She ticked her chin up ever so slightly. Why did he have to bring it all up?

"I've upset you," he said, eyes rueful.

"No," she said quickly. "No—I just—I'm over Cloud. In that way."

"And like me, you don't want to talk about it anymore, I'm guessing." His words were gentle. And suddenly, Tifa felt closer to him, like she could confide in him her worst fears.

"Yeah, something like that." The discomfort slipped away as they both relaxed into their smiles. She turned to face him, suddenly feeling an urge to further lighten the conversation. "I just want to dance!"

Tifa giggled at his answering grin, reassured in their friendship and mutual understanding. She held out a hand in invitation, the same way he had done for her earlier.

"Well, that I can help with." As he spoke, he took her hand and grabbed her waist, holding her in the dance position from earlier.

"Now I'm perfectly happy! Who needs love when you can dance?" Tifa felt a little encouraged to tease him again.

Vincent's eyes looked relieved at her returned humor, and he began to rock and sway to the soft music still drifting from the reception hall. He emanated security and warmth, a friend to chase away loneliness.

Tifa was struck with a strong desire to feel his skin under her lips.

Without giving herself time to question it, she gave in and wrapped her arms around his torso. Then, she raised herself on tiptoes and placed a lingering, innocent kiss on his cheek.

The seconds ticked by as Vincent stopped rocking her. She retreated slowly, then snuggled into his chest. And after a few moments, when she was sure his surprise had abated, she lifted her head to find his eyes heavy in concentration.

He held her firmly and stared down at her as a stillness fell over his face and body. He made no other move and just hugged her close.

Vincent's mind raced at her unexpected gesture—his demonic cells froze. Her body felt softer than he imagined. Strong urges to let go completely and give in to his desires raged through his body at the feel of her feminine warmth. What would it be like to be with her? And then what would it be like afterward? Would she allow a hug to go that far? She buried her head into his chest while his thoughts persisted—

He kissed her, lifting her in his arms, holding her tightly as his mouth parted, tongue slipping over her bottom lip. He felt hers flick against his own in response, and the wetness of her kiss fueled his lust. The softness of her breasts pressing into his chest made him eager to feel every part of her—

He opened his eyes as she clutched his face between her hands and whispered his name. "Vincent—"

"Vincent," she laughed, holding his face between her hands. "Wow—you can really get lost in thought, can't you?" She smiled at him, a slight furrow to her brow. A realization seemed to dawn over his face, and he appeared a little embarrassed.

Tifa leaned forward and hugged him again before he dwelled on her sudden affection, and the awkwardness returned. Her arms tightened around him. "Thank you for this tonight," she said as her head snuggled into his chest.

With one last squeeze of her arms around his cloaked form, she released him. She stepped back and hugged her shoulders, looking out to the sea beyond their balcony.

"I—uh," she started but wondered if her apology would sound too regretful. "I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I just felt you—I—needed a hug."

"Don't be sorry," he whispered to her. "For any of this tonight—I'm glad we had this brief connection."

He reached out and laced his fingers through the hair hanging over her shoulder, letting its length slide out of his grasp before he ran a thumb along her cheek.

Her breath hitched at his touch, and she caught a strange look in his eyes when he finally spoke. "You deserve someone worthy of you, Tifa."

Before she could find the words to respond to the intimate contact, Vincent bent forward and quickly hugged her. As he leaned back, he tenderly traced a finger along her chin, again taking the words from her lips at his tenderness.

Then, with his cloak clutched in both hands, he casually hopped onto the railing and looked down at her.

"Goodnight, Vincent," was all she could manage to say as he wordlessly leaped upward and soared into the air. His cape fanned out as he vanished into the darkness.

"Tifa?"

Her head snapped toward the double doors. Cloud stood in the light filtering from the hall.

The music had stopped, and wedding guests were saying their goodbyes. Oh great. She had missed Yuffie's departure.

"Hey," she said as she still clutched her shoulders. The cool sea air sent chills over her skin.

"Heading back to the hotel. You ready?"

She sighed at him, "Yeah, I guess. Let's go."

Cloud waited for her to walk past him and scanned the balcony. Not seeing anyone else, he turned and followed her toward the exit near the bar. It was late, and the keg was empty. Weddings are so boring.