He loves me.
A pale yellow petal fell to the floor below me.
He loves me not.
I sniffed lightly, ignoring the tears streaming down my cheeks.
He loves me.
Something in the back of my mind acknowledged the footsteps echoing on the wooden floor below me, but I was too numb to care.
He loves me not.
A weak sob escaped my throat. The footsteps stopped below me.
"Yuffie," I started with a jump, stashing the remains of the flower behind my back. I swiped at my eyes quickly, and with a pathetic sniffled, looked down at Cloud.
"What are you doing here?" The question went unanswered, because I didn't know the answer. Why had I gone to that old church?
Hopping down from my perch on that fallen pillar, I stumbled past him, throwing my ruined flower aside. A hand on my shoulder stopped me, and I let out another weak sob.
"What happened?" The blonde swordsman asked quietly.
A shaky breath passed my lips, that I hadn't been aware I was holding. Then followed another weak sob, and I collapsed, but I didn't hit the floor. But I couldn't feel Cloud's arms around me, holding me up as I cried.
And cried.
Minutes ticked by. I wasn't sure when Cloud had managed to sit us both down against a fallen pillar, me leaning against his shoulder. I had stopped crying some time ago, and somehow my ruined flower had found it's way back into my hands.
He loves me.
Cloud's eyes were on me, watching the pale yellow petals fall to the floor, watching the last of the tears drip from my cheeks.
"He went back," my voice sounded alien to me: a slight rasp from the strain of the crying, distant and longing. It didn't sound like me, and I hated it.
"Back," Cloud repeated tersely, "to the mansion." It wasn't a question. He knew.
"To the coffin," I corrected quietly. My strength had left me days ago, and now I was just empty. Numb.
I felt the man next to me sigh. The rustle of cloth followed and a small, cold device was pressed into my palm.
"Call him," Cloud's voice was calm and patient, and I couldn't help but to do as he said.
I lifted my hand, opening the phone as I did, and dialed the number without looking. Cloud helped lead the phone to my ear, then waited, ever patient, as I listened to the ringing. Then it stopped, and there was a soft noise, like silk, that I knew to be a sigh.
"Cloud," the voice stated, and my heart skipped a beat. It took everything in my power to not cry into the phone.
"Vincent," I whispered, quiet, my voice still rasping. There was a pause, then a rustle, and I hoped to the Gods he wouldn't hang up.
"Yuffie," It was the closest to surprise I had ever heard from him, "What are you…"
"How could you?" I cut him off, my voice weak and cracking under the strain of holding back tears. "How could you do this?"
Silence followed. Had I really expected anything else?
Then, "Yuffie, I…"
"How could you do this to me?" My voice was stronger this time, demanding, and it held a question. How could you break my heart? "You promised."
More silence. I was frustrated now, angry; impatient. I wanted him to know what he had done.
"…I'm sorry," It was only a whisper, but it spoke volumes.
He loves me not.
The petal fell to the floor, crushed by my trembling fingers.
I cried.
A strangled, sorrowful sob escaped my throat. Cloud was silent, as was Vincent.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. Trying to think.
"I-I love you, Vincent," I spoke in such a whisper, I could hardly hear myself. But I knew he heard me.
"…I love you, too, Yuffie," it was the truth, I knew, and I felt, more than heard, a laugh combined with a sob come from my own mouth.
The last petal of the flower drifted to the floor, taking my sorrow and uncertainty with it.
He loves me.