Chapter 4

Sleepless

The hotel room was dim, lit only by a small lamp near the bed, continuing the romantic mood of her evening. Tifa danced in circles, singing the songs that played while Vincent held her.

She recalled nights long ago spent at inns and makeshift camps. Girl talk sometimes included giggled whispers about Vincent's mysterious past, tall physique, and intense stare. The men never bothered them when she had huddled together with Aerith and Yuffie. Funny how they always knew when to stay away and let the girls have time to themselves.

Tifa let out a tired sigh and began readying for bed, a girlish smile lingering. A knock at the adjoining room door interrupted her routine just as she began spreading night cream along her jaw and neck.

She opened the door, and Cloud entered, brows furrowed above distant blue eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned near the window.

"What's up?" she asked.

"How'd you like the wedding?" he mumbled with a shrug.

"Oh. Well, it was nice." She spread the remaining lotion on her skin, watching him scan the room. "Good to finally have a real celebration. You know, something that didn't follow a battle to the death," she laughed.

"Yeah, I guess." He scratched at his elbows, and his lips drew together in a thin line.

She sat on a corner of the bed and patiently waited for him to continue. When he finally appeared to work up the nerve to speak, a shadow passed over the window. Cloud glanced around and focused his attention through the panes, checking the sky for any hint of a threat.

"See anything?"

"It's just a seagull."

"It's up late—like you." She rested back on her elbows as the question in her remark remained unspoken. Why did he need to talk now?

"Maybe like Vincent?"

Tifa blinked at his question, noting the trace of accusation beneath the surface. "Maybe," she answered, tone cold and eyes narrowed.

Cloud turned toward her and folded his arms back across his chest. He didn't look at her but instead stared at the carpet under her feet.

"How about you?" If she could steer the conversation back to harmless small talk about the wedding, perhaps this could be cut short, and she could get to bed.

"Hmm?" Finally, he looked at her. He would make this difficult, and her buzz had worn off some time ago.

"Did you have fun?" Tifa struggled to remain patient.

"I dunno. It was interesting."

She felt like she was talking to a sullen teenager. She should send him back to his room so he could sleep it off. But this was Cloud, and she could never resist him when he wanted to talk. It was such a rare occurrence.

"Oh yeah? What did you like?"

"Vincent can dance." He announced and faced the window with a hand on his hip. Cloud's reflection stared at her. She felt a little stunned at his statement, his intention with mentioning Vincent unclear.

"It was a pleasant surprise," she said quietly, cooly.

"Surprised you didn't chase him down after that last one," he snorted, voice betraying a hint of jealousy.

"What do you mean?" Tifa stifled her irritation, confused by his comments. Why the sudden issue with Vincent?

"Nothing." He backtracked the comment but wouldn't look directly at her. A tick formed in his jaw, and it seemed he was grinding his teeth. He was annoyed but not angry.

She remained quiet and watched as he seemed to be working something out for himself. His reflection revealed a tinge of worry in his eyes. Guilt began to prickle at her, brought on by their past and the feelings she once held for him.

"So? Vincent can dance," she said calmly. "Does this bother you?" She doubted he would answer.

The tick in his jaw slowed as he turned his head to look at the door to his room; his breath hitched a bit before he spoke again. "It's just that—it was unexpected," he replied and wiped his face with his hand.

"Yeah, it was," she agreed, giving him a gentle smile as he turned toward her again.

Cloud ruffed his hair and cringed, taking a couple of steps to sit on the bed beside her. He turned toward her and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Sorry." His tone at this point was defeated. "I'm being an ass."

She could smell the alcohol on his breath, faint but present. Tifa had been too tired to notice before that he was still a little tipsy. During the hours spent standing with Barret, they'd done nothing but drink, save for two dances with her. And now he was here, again at the only times he would come to her. When drunk and in need of consoling.

"It's ok," she sighed and leaned her head onto his as a comforting gesture and then pulled away, hoping he would do the same.

The weight of his chin on her shoulder pulled at her fatigue. It was the first time he had come to her like this that she wanted him to leave and just let her sleep on her own. Not wanting to hurt him, Tifa exaggerated a yawn and stretched her arms out in front of her.

"Tired?" Cloud asked, nesting his chin closer to her neck. He reached out a hand and lazily dropped it on her thigh.

Tifa nodded in response, not trusting herself to speak and too harshly verbalize the rejection he wasn't catching. Not long ago, this had seemed all she wanted.

Tifa patted his hand and then stood up and moved to a chair by the window. Cloud looked a little confused and rubbed his hands down his thighs, unsure suddenly of what he should do. She had never rejected him before.

"I guess I'll go to bed," he said finally.

"Goodnight, Cloud," she said as he slowly rose from the bed and walked through the adjoining room door back to his room, leaving Tifa in peace for the night.

She let out a relieved sigh, a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, and climbed into bed. Cloud had caught her by surprise. The entire exchange left her feeling the familiar emotional exhaustion she had avoided for months. But she wasn't going to dwell on Cloud. Likely he would forget this happened by morning, so to do so was useless.

With the covers pulled up to her chin, Tifa hoped slumber would come to her quickly, but her mind betrayed the wish. Instead, sleep slipped away as she recalled the evening. Begging and pleading with Cloud, guilting Barret, and then finally giving up before the welcoming invitation from Vincent.

To say it was unexpected is an understatement. Tifa never imagined the aloof loner to be the sort that could dance in such a way, let alone be good at it. He was always so quiet, only speaking when his words would be most impactful. His gesture certainly lifted her mood and self-esteem.

As she recalled his chivalry, a blush crept along her neck and chest. It felt as wonderful as it did old-fashioned, serving as a reminder of his actual age.

Her hands skimmed along her face and neck to cool the lingering flush. Memories of Vincent's proximity and scent flooded her mind. She turned into her pillow and hugged herself as a sense of absence spread through her body. She squeezed her eyes shut, realizing that she was lying in bed, practically fantasizing about Vincent. A smile erupted over her mouth. Her fingers grazed over her lips as she imagined the softness of his.

Her grin turned devilish as she wondered what he would do if she tried to seduce him. Although he misunderstood her harmless flirtation, he hadn't recoiled from her embrace or even the innocent kiss on his cheek. A slight tinge of encouragement seeped into her.

Tifa shook her head. They were friends and nothing more. She wouldn't develop those desires again for someone who could never return her affections. Not that these musings were the full-blown obsession she had developed for Cloud, but the longings were hard to ignore. Falling for Vincent would be a dangerous gamble with no odds in her favor. After all, he still harbored intense feelings for someone else, and the last thing she wanted was to enter a love triangle that left her with the short stick.

Tifa tossed the covers aside, frustrated at this dilemma that was starting to feel like her lot in life. She got out of bed, giving up on sleep. She put on a pair of sandals and a light sweater over her tank and shorts. Then, grabbing her phone and room key, she left the hotel room to roam the halls and clear her over-worked mind.

The corridors were empty. Most everyone was slumbering, tucked into their rooms in front of a TV, or enjoying more spirits at the all-night bar. She made her way past the elevator bank and exited the patio leading out to the beach. Maybe a sandy stroll would clear the churning thoughts.

Cid had received clearance to park his airship a short distance from the others' hotel. After retreating from the reception, Vincent had found solitude aboard The Shera in the cabin that Cid had specially designed for him. A workbench was built into the wall and stocked with equipment to clean his guns. Curtains surrounded the bed frame, offering darkness against filtering light. Doors flanked both sides of the room, one to the inner hallway and one that would allow him a swift exit from the side of the ship. Cid was adamant that the side door should only be used in emergencies and wasn't meant for his 'Creepy ass to zip off into the air like a gotdamn thunderbird with his crotch on fire just cause ya feel the fucking urge!'

He toyed with his gauntlet at the workbench and let his mind wander as it would. The last few hours had been a far cry from any he had had in recent memory. When solitude had been his usual companion, others sought out only on occasion to fill the social void.

Weeks before receiving the wedding invitation, he had visited Lucrecia's cave and had analyzed their past once again. He'd mulled over his guilt and failures to the point of exhaustion, then returned to the mansion in Nibelheim. He perused the basement archives, hoping to learn the truth of his immortality and other conditions that may be lingering in his body. He sought answers. Eternity offered little appeal when time was a burden to a lonely soul. There was only so much to do in a day. Only so many calamities to thwart in a year.

Much of Gaia had returned to a sense of normalcy, and he found himself wondering if he could find a place within it, thanks to the efforts of his friends. Shiva knows they've tried to make him welcome in their lives. He found himself attending their gatherings more often than in years past. Or at least considering their company. Their journeys together helped form a bond between them that is only ever secured through shared trials and victory.

Holding a constant wake for his mistakes over Lucrecia no longer held his attention in ceaseless repetition. Vincent had paid the price. His triumphs against the planet's enemies had diminished his justification for a penitent vigil. His sins were no longer as heavy of a burden. Shades of atonement had filtered into his psyche as the world recovered from calamitous wounds. Yuffie's wedding proved Gaia would heal, and his attendance showed he was at least considering moving on with it.

And the torturous, incessant pulse of corrupted cells that permeated his body had pooled into a single spot. The itching draw of eruption ceased to be an imminent threat. He had learned to focalize and lure the cells into a pinpoint at his sternum. He mastered the control following years of practice and achieved it so soundly that he could even call upon the demons at will. But that thrum—that tiny buzz and hum was always there. At least, it had always been there until almost completely disappearing tonight when assailed with feminine scent and proximity.

He cleaned the oil from his gauntlet and put the tools away into the workbench drawers and compartments. He slid onto the bed and closed the curtains against any moonlight seeping in through the window.

The wedding reception repeated in his brain the way things always did for him. Unyielding. No interruption. Persistent. Consuming. Sleep eluded him as memories of Tifa sprang to his mind. He felt like a teenager who had attended his first dance. He was unaccustomed to the magnitude of a wedding's social atmosphere—and the hope of romance. And hope was something he had learned to avoid, especially over a woman.

A pink dress. Long dark hair. Big doe eyes, glittering red under a chandelier. A soft body pressed against his.

Exasperated, he tore the curtains back and rubbed a hand between his ribs to soothe the pulsating cells. The last thing he needed was to develop a crush. He dressed quickly and left the cabin, making his way onto the deck to stare out at the hotel resort and its private sea views. The beach spread out before him, scattered with lovers strolling hand in hand. Go figure.

Past the hotel, he spied the royal estate and the balcony he had left not an hour before. The wedding had been as exciting as he thought it would be and fulfilled his dull expectations. In contrast, the reception had been full of delightful surprises, chasing the loneliness that had been creeping into his consciousness of late. However, he wasn't so sure allowing thoughts of the hard-hitting beauty to fill that void was wise. Aside from his hang-ups, Tifa had unrequited love to filter out of her system. Another—last thing he needed was a love triangle redux.

He needed focus. It would probably be sensible to seek out more work with Reeve and offer the WRO his services on a more full-time basis. Reeve hinted at an issue with former SOLDIERS; perhaps Vincent could assist somehow.

A movement to his left caught Vincent's eye. The blond who had winked at him in the hall ran along the shore, chased by a young man who appeared to be the band's drummer. He caught her, and they tumbled together into the water. She shrieked and giggled, and the drummer kissed her. Their public display irked Vincent just a tad. Another reminder, like the wedding, of a life that was out of reach for him.

Vincent removed himself from the deck, disembarked the ship, and walked toward the beach in the opposite direction from all the shore-walking lovers. He let the crashing sound of the waves on the shore fill his mind, trying to silence the constant introspection. But the ocean sounds offered no distraction, and his thoughts drifted back to her.

His mind hovered around Tifa since he had first held her, a little to his surprise. It's not as though over the years he had been blind to beautiful women. He was still a man in that regard, after all. However, he had shut down the part of himself that would consider romantic interludes, and his pointless devotion to Lucrecia had left him clinging to punishing celibacy.

Upon quieting his haunting demons, he found himself able to retrieve some traces of his former self. And tonight, he had saved the beautiful wallflower like an infatuated schoolboy. He had always harbored concern over Tifa's feelings for Cloud and her tendency to take care of everyone else first. But this night, seeing her abandoned and dejected had struck a deeper chord. It played in time with the music in his conscience and his regrettable harmony with unrequited love.

Her smile, while they danced, had affected him in ways he had not felt for many years. His heart swelled that he was the one to make her happy, which was an emotion she forcefully projected at times to keep everyone else in merry spirits.

He paused along the beach under a grouping of trees and kneeled in the shadows. Should he not try to drive his thoughts elsewhere? It would serve no purpose to dwell on her. But there was something about it that left him feeling cautious if he was truthful with himself. He liked thinking about Tifa. She was beautiful, loving, and endearing. He would have to be careful to avoid these lingering thoughts. He wanted to avoid developing strong feelings for another woman he could never hope would be his.

Approaching footsteps in the sand interrupted his thoughts.

"Why am I not surprised, Vincent?" He could hear the smile in Tifa's voice. She walked over to him and ducked her head as if trying to assure herself it was him.

He chuckled to himself. If only his life had always worked this way. Think of a woman, and she appears on the beach with a warm smile and bare legs.

"Maybe my hiding spots aren't so well hidden anymore." He suppressed the chuckle, stood up, and stepped toward her. He took advantage of the shadows across his face and glanced down at her naked feet covered in sand.

She was silent as she looked up at him. Could she feel him staring at her? He felt a little shame and turned his head toward the beach resort.

A high-pitched giggle lifted through the air from the shoreline. Both watched as a woman ran with her heels in hand from her would-be lover. He caught her and lifted her into the air.

"Well, they're enjoying themselves," Tifa muttered to him. He watched her, quietly wondering what they should talk about as the lovers walked by on the beach a short distance away. Anywhere else, it would seem odd to see so many people walking around in the dark, but beaches held appeal on a sleepless night.

"So, just enjoying the beach?" she asked.

"I thought I would walk a while, then sit here instead of sleep. You?"

"Just thought to walk on the beach and stroll while I still had the chance." She toyed with her hair, and he noticed she would not meet his gaze. He felt as though she was aware of his thoughts from minutes ago. Or maybe she was worried about her thoughts. Either way, she didn't typically seem uncomfortable in front of him.

"Want to walk me with me? For a few minutes?" He could hear the uncertainty in her friendly invitation. She was nervous, unsure of herself.

"You're not tired?"

"I'm used to staying up late. I run a bar, remember?" She grinned as they began to walk.

"I'm aware." He tried to catch her eyes. The shyness in her demeanor had returned with a vengeance after their conversation on the balcony. He wondered if she was embarrassed or if someone had said something.

"Yeah, nothing gets past you," she teased and finally looked at him with a wink. It was as if she could sense his thoughts and wanted to put him at ease. He found her ability to comfort adorable but wondered about the toll to herself as she hid her true feelings for consideration of others.

"Thank you for tonight," she said after a few moments, reaching out and squeezing his arm.

He glanced over and smiled at her. He flexed his arm in response to her touch and gently tapped her fingers with his. "Anytime."

"Are you heading out tomorrow, too?"

"Meeting up with Nanaki for a few days. Then I'll be heading back to Edge."

"Oh yeah? Thinking of making Edge a permanent location?"

"I've considered it," he admitted. "The WRO still needs hands, and I've got nothing better to do now. There aren't as many damsels in distress as there used to be." His pathetic joke earned him a giggle.

"Well," she started and reached back out to grab his arm. "This damsel in distress is in much need of a friend to come by for dinner. So, make sure you come by often and keep me company. Ok?" Her invitation was warm and genuine.

"How could I refuse?"

"It's settled then." She beamed at him, the moonlight catching the warmth in her eyes. Her response felt like a reward.

They strolled along the shore in comfortable silence. She walked barefoot at the edge of the advancing water, which he smoothly avoided each time the surf rushed over her feet and charged at his over the sand. He found the sound of her laughter at his retreat sweetly feminine and adorable. Like their dance earlier in the night, he was wrapped up in the atmosphere and her companionship as they slowly walked back toward the hotel.

From his window overlooking the beach, Cloud watched as Vincent said goodnight to Tifa. He didn't know what to make of it any more than their dance—or if it possible she was developing something more than friendship for the former Turk.

Barret had advised him months ago to work only local deliveries and not take jobs that had him leaving home for several days. He should stick around more and let normal life take hold. Perhaps that was something he could try for a while. Or maybe join a local security team. Help out with the WRO more often. He would think about it.

He watched Tifa enter the building, and she disappeared from view. Vincent lingered for a moment, then headed toward the airship. Uncertainty darkened Cloud's eyes. Tifa was moving on without him.