IN OUR OWN WORLD

SorrowsFlower

Summary: FFVII lemony oneshots

Author's Note: So I took a leaf out of ObsessiveCompulsiveValkyrie's book and started my own FFVII lemon folder. It's going to be mostly CloTi, but if my muse shows itself, I may write other pairings. It's a mixture of canon and AUs, and it's strictly NOT for kids. I should also probably warn you: there may be some OOCness, as well as some O.o and wtf moments (direct products of my twisted and permanently fried brain). Just know that I mean no offense with these fanfics. It's all in good fun... That said, ENJOY!!!

DISCLAIMER (for all chapters): I don't own Final Fantasy or any of its characters.

CHAPTER 1: PERFECT

Perfect, CloTi AU

INSPIRATION: (don't hold it against me) bits of stuff from Moulin Rouge, Pretty Baby, and The Dreamers; oh, and I was listening to Forbidden Act, from the Vampire Knight soundtrack.

GENRE: Romance/ Drama

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Cloud is an artist, looking for his muse. Tifa is a prostitute who has seen too little of the good in life. Together, they discover something extraordinary in the most unexpected of places.

A/N: Okay, when I got the idea for this, I was being swamped by exams (what else is new?), and it just kept nagging at me, and I couldn't concentrate. So I ended up writing it instead of studying. As a result, I nearly failed Physiology, and I came up with one of THE weirdest things I have ever written.

Make my day, please... Review!!!!

White linen sheets. The scent of jasmine and vanilla. The smile on the cracked face of a broken doll. The glow of the setting sun lighting up the face of the only woman I ever loved...

I knew her for one night, but our love lasted for a lifetime.

...

...

...

...

"Ya wanna what?"

Cloud Strife cleared his throat. The large, heavy-set woman in front of him resembled a bear about to attack, only the bear would have looked much less intimidating. "I'd like to use one of your girls as a model. I'm an artist, you see, and I'd really like to draw one of your girls... If it's alright with you," he added.

The owner and manager of the well-known establishment glowered at him, her heavy eyebrows bunching together in the middle of her forehead. "Look, sonny-boy. This here's a whorehouse, not a modeling agency. Ya want a fuck, you come here. Ya wanna play artist, go somewhere else. There ain't nothing here for ya!"

She prepared to slam the door in his face, but Cloud quickly felt around his pockets and pulled out a wad of money. It was the day's earnings, from the rich old couple who'd posed for him on the street. There goes next month's rent... He'd have to move somewhere else, he already owed Mrs. Turnpike five months' rent. He wasn't so sure the old woman would be so considerate this time.

It didn't matter; his art came first. Always.

"Wait!" He quickly inserted the bundle of bills into the rapidly closing slot between the dilapidated door and its frame. The door stopped. Through the crack, the woman inspected the crumpled wad of money.

"I'd like to hire one of your girls for the night," Cloud declared through the crack.

For a moment, the owner stared at him, then the crack widened and Cloud got a good look at the woman. She had catlike green eyes and dirty silver hair pulled into a messy bun at the back of her head. She peered at him through dusty spectacles, surveying him from head to toe, taking in his worn suit and unruly chocobo-colored spikes. Then her gaze shifted to the money.

"Call me Mother."

She smiled widely at him, revealing yellowing teeth. The door opened and Cloud stepped through. "Welcome to my establishment."

Mother hefted her large frame away from the door and began to walk down a dark hallway. She motioned for Cloud to follow. "We cater to the whims and pleasures of the men of Midgar... For a price, o' course."

They stopped at the foot of a flight of stairs. Mother threw her head back and peered at the dusty ceiling. "Girls! Come on down here, we've got ourselves a customer!"

Several female faces appeared over the railing. "C'mon down here, you lot, and let the young man have a look at ya!"

Shuffling sounds came from upstairs and a moment later, three women appeared. A tall, curvaceous blonde woman with feral eyes and blood red lipstick slathered across her lips descended the stairs first. She examined Cloud appreciatively.

"Mmm... he's a hot one."

The blonde woman approached him slowly, her flimsy, almost transparent dress slinking across her generous curves. When she was near enough, she placed a hand on his chest and raked her long, manicured fingernails downwards over his clothes. She leaned even closer and nibbled on his earlobe. Cloud gulped.

She laughed huskily. "Tastes just as good as he looks."

"Scarlet, don't scare the poor boy," a low voice purred. A brunette with brown eyes joined Scarlet and scanned Cloud. "Although I have to admit, he is very good-looking."

"Who's good-looking?" A girl with short, black hair and wide eyes bounded up to them. She looked quite young, probably even younger than Cloud himself. She stood at the foot of the stairs with both hands planted on her hips, and grinned saucily up at him. "Hiya, handsome!"

All three women stared at him appreciatively. Cloud squirmed uncomfortably under their scrutiny. He felt like a prize bull at a cow auction. Mother grinned proudly and turned to him.

"So, which one of my girls will it be? You want Scarlet...?" The first woman ran a tongue over her bottom lip.

"... Or Lucrecia?" The second gave him a small, suggestive smile.

"... Or Yuffie?" The third bounced on the balls of her feet and waved at him. Mother turned to him expectantly.

Cloud cleared his throat and avoided the girls' gazes. He needed someone beautiful... Not that the girls in front of him weren't beautiful, but they just weren't right... Lucrecia seemed too cold. Yuffie was too chipper. Scarlet was... just plain scary.

He struggled to come up with something to say. "Uh... erm..."

"Mother... Aren't you forgetting someone?"

Five heads turned to the top of the stairs. A woman stood there, casually surveying the scene below. Cloud stared at her, mouth hanging uselessly open.

She was... perfect. Her long dark hair was twisted in a loose plait and hung down over her right shoulder to her waist. Several strands had escaped the braid and danced provocatively around her face. And what a face it was... It belonged to an angel.

But what surprised Cloud the most was her eyes. Curving mysteriously upward at the corners, they were a dark red-brown, the color of the finest wine and just as intoxicating; they held fire, passion, and a deep sadness buried away beneath the seductive smile... In his mind, Cloud knew she was the one he needed.

The dark-haired beauty slowly descended the stairs, her gazed resting on Cloud. "Well, Mother? Aren't you going to introduce me to the customer?"

Mother shuffled her feet and leaned her head closer to the woman's. "Now, now, Tifa... You know I was saving you 'specially for Sephiroth."

The woman glared coldly at her. "Sephiroth can go screw himself." She turned to Cloud, her full, red lips forming a small half-smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "...I want this one."

Scarlet gave a low hiss and glared at her. Yuffie pouted, her lower lip pushing outwards. "How come Tifa always gets the good-looking ones?"

Cloud felt his mouth go dry as the woman called Tifa looked him over. He didn't know if he was supposed to say something, and if so, he had no idea what he was supposed to say. Luckily, he was saved the trouble of replying when a young teenage boy with chin-length silver hair appeared.

"Mother, Mr. Valentine is here."

Yuffie immediately lost her pout and grinned. "Oooh, never mind. Vinnie's here!" She did a little twirling jig around Lucrecia and tugged on the taller woman's arm. "C'mon, Luc. I bet he's depressed from work. Let's go cheer him up!"

The brunette rolled her eyes at the tiny girl's antics. "Fine," she murmured. "But I get to be on top this time."

Yuffie glared indignantly at her. "No fair! You were on top last time!"

The two women went down the hallway where Cloud could hear them bickering. They reappeared a moment later with a tall, dark-haired man dressed in red. His hair obscured most of his face and he had an arm around each woman. Lucrecia was as cool as usual, but Yuffie was chattering incessantly. "Aw, cheer up, Vinnie! I'll give you a back rub if you want. Free of charge!"

The man nodded at Mother, then proceeded up the stairs, keeping his arms around both Yuffie's and Lucrecia's waists. As soon as they were gone, Scarlet turned to Mother.

"You said so yourself, Mother. You're saving Miss Priss over there for your dear little boy...That means I can keep this one." She gave Cloud a wicked smile. "I'll show you a good time, my little chocobo. We'll have fun, I promise."

Tifa threw her a cold look and took Cloud's wrist, pulling him up the stairs. "Have Loz put up the sign on my door, Mother. I don't want anyone disturbing us."

Scarlet glared at her, but retreated to her own room. Mother sighed and turned to the silver-haired teenager. "You can go, Kadaj. Be sure to tell Sephiroth that Tifa's not feeling 'er best."

"Yes, Mother." Kadaj disappeared down the hallway.

Cloud had no choice but to follow Tifa to her room upstairs. His brain didn't seem to be functioning at the moment and his entire body felt heavy, as if it were made of lead. His palms were sweaty and he wanted to wipe them, but doing so would mean shaking Tifa's grip off, something he didn't want to do just yet.

The second floor looked as dilapidated as the first. She opened the last door on the corridor and pulled him inside.

Compared to the rest of the house, Tifa's room was pristine. The sheets were freshly starched and the bed neatly made. The walls were a nice, sunny cream shade and the soft curtains billowed gently in the breeze from the open window. Across the room from the bed was a small table with a large mirror. Sitting in front of the mirror, amid bottles and what-not, was a small ceramic doll with curly dark hair and brown glass eyes. Oddly enough, it fit the room.

Tifa turned to him. Cloud gulped, wondering what she was going to do next. She looked him up and down, not in the way she had earlier. This time, her gaze wasn't provocative or appraising, but genuinely curious and somewhat amused.

"Hmmm, you're lucky I got there in time... Those girls would have eaten you alive."

Cloud blinked at the change in her tone. "Sorry?"

She laughed and turned away from him, seating herself in front of the table. "You don't look like the type of man who goes to these kinds of places," she explained, undoing her braid while talking. "Believe me, if they'd gotten their hands on you, you would've been scarred for life."

She had a smile on her face. Cloud didn't know if she was teasing him or not. "Make yourself at home. I'll be with you in a minute."

He cleared his throat. Tifa didn't look like she was going to pounce on him any minute. He took off his coat and hung it on a hook on the wall. Feeling a bit nervous, he sat down on the edge of her bed. He watched as Tifa slowly ran a brush through the strands of her thick dark hair. The waves created by her braid were smoothed out with a few strokes, and the now-straight mass hung down her back like a dark curtain.

Cloud couldn't take his eyes off her. Her every movement was graceful, from the gentle sweeping motions of her hand as she combed through her hair to the fluid way she stood from the chair and faced him. He cleared his throat again. Her wine-colored gaze roamed over him, making him feel somewhat uncomfortable.

Tifa had to laugh as the young man cleared his throat yet again. He looked so nervous, and his face had gone from pale to red to near-purple. Lucrecia had been right, though... He was very good-looking. Better than most.

Blond spikes framed his angular face and eyes the color of the ocean peered out from beneath them. Those eyes were focused on her in a stare so intense, she was surprised he hadn't burned a hole through her yet. Usually, the stares she received from men disgusted her. All they ever saw or cared about was her tits or her ass.

But this one... the way this man looked at her made her feel as if she were a goddess. His awestruck gaze caused a small tingle to go down her spine.

"So, um... uh..." the young man stammered, "I'm Cloud. Cloud Strife... I'm an artist. I- I would be honored if you would be my model."

Tifa's eyebrows rose. An artist? And he wanted her to be his model? Was he serious?

Cloud watched her in trepidation. She was looking at him as if he were insane. Oh no... Is she going to refuse? His insides twisted in panic. "Uh... I--"

"Is that all?"

Cloud blinked. "Huh?"

"Is that all you want?" Tifa fixed him with a level stare. "For me to model for you? So you can draw me?"

"Well, uh... yes..." Was she expecting something more from him?

He watched anxiously as she bit her lower lip, rolling it between her teeth. She HAD to say yes! Now that he had seen her, he didn't want anyone else. Nobody else would be right for this... Tifa nodded, and he exhaled the breath he hadn't known he had been holding. "Alright."

"Thank you." Cloud smiled. She smiled back, a sweet, genuine smile that made his insides twist again, for a different reason this time.

"You're welcome, Mr. Strife."

"Call me Cloud." Cloud rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "'Mr. Strife' is what they call my father. I'm just Cloud."

"Well, in that case, call me Tifa... So, what do you want me to do?" She tilted her head curiously at him.

Cloud looked around the room. The table? No. The bed? No, it didn't seem right, either. The window? Yes, that was it! He walked over to the bed and knelt on it to examine the window more closely. The shutters were the kind that could be pushed out, so it wouldn't get in the way. The ledge seemed to be wide enough to support her, and the lighting was excellent. Perfect.

He turned to Tifa. Now came the hard part. "Um, could you... uh, would you mind... er..."

Tifa regarded him curiously. "Yes?"

How the hell was he supposed to say this? "Um... Could you undress, please?"

Heat surged to his face as she stared at him. As Cloud watched, her expression turned from curious to suspicious in a matter of seconds. Oh, great... Now she thinks I'm a pervert. "No, it's not like that, really... I promise I won't do anything... unprofessional."

Tifa studied the man in front of her, trying to find an ulterior motive. Was a nude sketch of her all he really wanted? What if it was just some kind of sick excuse to get a peek at her? Well... it wouldn't be the first time... Many other men had certainly done worse. Besides, his voice sounded so anxious, as though he genuinely wanted to put her at ease.

Could it be that maybe --just maybe-- he didn't want her for sex? ...Maybe he really thought she was beautiful enough to be part of his art.

"Alright."

Cloud watched as Tifa slowly slid the straps of her dress off her shoulders. He knew he should turn away, but a part of him wouldn't let him avert his eyes. That part of him kept his eyes on the smooth, pale skin being revealed to him as the dress flowed over her body... over the gentle swell of her full breasts... the graceful curve of her waist... down the long, lithe line of her legs... until finally, the flimsy fabric pooled at her feet.

His breath caught in his throat. She was like a vision, a mirage that might disappear at the slightest movement.

Tifa peered at Cloud from underneath long, dark lashes. Heaven help her, she was blushing like crazy. She could feel Cloud's eyes on her and she wondered if he liked what he was seeing. All the other men certainly had. But somehow, she felt Cloud was different. For the first time in her life, she felt shyness grip her.

What's wrong with me? She wondered as the dress fell to her feet. It's not like I've never been with a man before...

Without warning, memories of her first time came rushing back to her... Back then, her insides were twisting with nervousness and horror at what the man on top of her was doing. She couldn't remember the man's face or name, but she could remember the terrifying feeling of the man pushing his erection into her. She'd been only thirteen then, and much too small to accommodate the man's swollen member. And then came the horrible pain that made her cry out. The man had mistaken it then for pleasure, but he couldn't have been more wrong... How could anyone find the pain and the uncomfortable friction his pumping had produced pleasurable?

"Tifa?"

She looked up and found Cloud staring at her with a look of concern in his deep blue eyes. "Yes?"

"Are you alright?" Cloud asked. Gaia, he was so stupid... He had been staring at the rest of her body so intently and at the same time trying in vain to ignore the sudden surge of blood to his lower extremities, he hadn't noticed the look of pain flashing across her beautiful eyes. He felt like a complete fool.

Tifa opened her mouth to reply, but stopped. He was shifting awkwardly, trying to adjust his position. That was when she saw the bulge straining against his trousers.

She felt her heart contract painfully, as though a fist had gripped it. Cloud was just like the rest of them. Just like Sephiroth. Just like the man who had taken her innocence. These men, they all wanted only one thing from her. Gaia, I'm such an idiot... What made me think he was actually any different?

The whole 'I'm an artist' thing was probably just an act, just to get her to undress so he could enjoy himself with her. The looks of nervousness and concern were probably just feigned to make her fall for his act... Well, if that was what he wanted, then that was he would get. She gave him her best seductive smile, the one that had men falling over themselves to follow her.

"So, where do you want me?"

Cloud frowned. The smile on her face was the same one she had given him earlier, with Mother and the other girls present. The corners of her full lips curved upwards, but her eyes held a cold and distant look. The smile had no meaning to it, and though it enhanced her features, it didn't suit her.

He gestured to ledge and she sat down in a fluid motion, angling her body so that her breasts were displayed to him in all their glory. He swallowed and turned away, pulling the chair from her table and setting it down a few feet away from her. He sat down; he was now positioned beside the window, almost directly in front of her.

Tifa was staring at him, her gaze challenging. Cloud shifted nervously under her scrutiny. "Can you turn your head, please? Look out the window."

She raised an eyebrow at him, but complied. "Good. Bend your left leg, just so..." She obeyed, flexing her knee slightly. "That's it. Bend the other one as well, just a little. Not as much as the other..." She complied without a word.

Cloud rubbed the back of his neck. It didn't feel complete somehow. His eyes took in the room and his gaze fell on the small ceramic doll on her table. He reached over and carefully picked it up.

It wasn't in the best condition. One side of the doll's face had a crack on it; it had been glued back on, but that uneven line remained. Half of the doll's frilly dress was burned and she was missing part of her foot. But her painted-on smile had not worn off, and her brown glass eyes were shiny and sparkled in the light.

Tifa saw his hand close around the little doll. She stiffened, about to tell him to put it down. That doll meant more to her than anything else in the world and she didn't want just anyone touching it. But before she could speak, he extended his arm, holding the doll out to her. "Here. Can you hold it in one arm and hold your pose?"

She took the doll from him and examined it for a moment, touching the burnt clothes and tracing the crack on the doll's face. Then she cradled it in her right arm and resumed the position he had instructed her to take. Cloud leaned back and studied her.

The curtain billowed softly behind her and the wind from outside fanned her hair slightly, causing the silky strands to caress the pearly texture of her skin. The dimming light from the setting sun fell on her, bathing the curves of her body with a soft golden glow and creating mysterious shadows that played on each hollow of her body, paying tribute to hidden secrets and femininity. In the dramatic lighting, even the doll's smile seemed alive, both hopeful and sorrowful at the same time. The entire room seemed to take on a new, peaceful atmosphere, one he never would have expected from a place like this.

He had been right. She was perfect. Not just because she was physically flawless, but because she was... imperfect. She was like the broken little doll she held in her arms. Cracked, scarred, burned, with missing parts; but still, her eyes held the fire he had glimpsed there earlier.

Taking a deep breath, he touched the tip of his pencil to the paper and began to draw. His hands moved unerringly across the paper, adding stroke after stroke. His eyes moved between his muse and his sketchbook, trying to take in every little detail of her and record this moment on paper.

At one point, he saw a drop of moisture pool at the corner of her eyes. She brushed her fingertips across it and the single tear disappeared. But Cloud had seen it, and he acknowledged its existence. He stopped sketching.

"Something wrong?" Tifa asked when he suddenly put his pencil down.

Cloud looked at her. "That doll is special to you, isn't it?"

Tifa looked down at the cracked ceramic face and nodded silently.

"Can I ask where you got it?"

She tensed and looked back out the window, averting her eyes from his. He went back to sketching as he waited for her to answer. It took her a while, but after a moment, she spoke.

"My mother gave it to me the Christmas I turned eight... I saw it at an antiques shop and begged her to buy it for me. She said no. We had a baby in the house then and money was getting scarce." Tifa gave a soft laugh as she stared at the sunset. "I remember crying all the way home that day. My father did all he could to cheer me up, but I kept on crying. I think I almost dehydrated myself from crying so much. I cried all day, all week. Then when Christmas Day came, my eyes were so swollen, I almost couldn't see the little box wrapped in shiny paper sitting underneath the tree. When I opened it..."

Cloud smiled. "You found the doll."

Tifa nodded. "My mother, who was a seamstress then, nearly worked her fingers to the bone just so she could buy this for me. She had scars on her fingertips from where the needle punctured her. But she never complained. Not once..." her voice broke and she stopped talking.

They were both silent for a long moment. Then Cloud cleared his throat. "How come it's, uh... broken?"

Tifa turned to him, her eyes cold. She didn't speak, just stared at him with cool, expressionless eyes. Realizing he had overstepped some kind of boundary, Cloud immediately held up his hands to rectify his mistake. You little idiot, Strife! "I'm sorry. Forget I asked. I--"

"Do you really want to know?"

Cloud swallowed and nodded. Tifa took a deep breath and began talking. Her voice held a note of sadness and intense pain.

"I was eleven. We were still living in Nibelheim then. I was on my way home from school. My friends and I were walking together when we saw smoke coming from the rooftops... At first, we thought it was just smoke from the chimneys, but then we saw crowds of people running from it. We saw our neighbors carrying their things and shouting..."

Cloud listened to her story with rapt attention, his sketch forgotten. She was staring out the window at the fading afternoon sun, completely absorbed in the tale she was telling him.

"I ran all the way to our street, and it was just... fire. It was everywhere, choking me, burning my clothes. Our house was completely consumed by it. I could hear people screaming. The firemen were trying to put the flames out, but it was spreading so fast, and before they could do anything, our house collapsed... My mother and my little brother were inside. They never got out. My brother... he was only three, and he was such a sweet little boy; he always had a smile for everyone... They both died that day."

Tifa squeezed her eyes shut at the onslaught of memories. The unbearable heat of the fire... Seeing her house fall until nothing was left of it but ashes and debris... The realization that her mother and brother were both gone... She pressed a hand to her mouth to keep from crying out.

Cloud got up from the chair and seated himself on the ledge in front of her. He didn't quite know what to say, so he took her other hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly. She opened her eyes and gave him a small smile.

"The only thing left was this doll. I always kept it safe in a box under my bed and it survived somehow... After the fire, my father changed. He became a completely different person. I couldn't see anything of my happy, loving father in him anymore. He began drinking all the time and stopped working. He gambled away all the money he had earned from his job, and when nothing was left, he... he sold me. To Mother."

Cloud's hand on hers tightened. "What?"

"He sold me to Mother for a few gil and left me here in Midgar. I had nowhere else to go; my father had abandoned me and I never heard from him again. I had nothing and no one; nobody cared whether I lived or died. Mother was about to say no and leave me in the streets, but her eldest son, Sephiroth, who handled the finances, took a liking to me and let me stay if I gave him a few… privileges. So I stayed here and became one of Mother's girls... I've been here ever since."

Tifa finished her story and turned to look at him. Cloud was staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Was he judging her for what she had done to survive? He had no right! Who was he to do something like that?!

She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut across her and spoke first. "When I was sixteen, my mother died."

"Excuse me?"

Cloud went on. "She got sick and it got worse day after day. I was an only child and my father wanted me to become a doctor, so I could help my mother. But I refused and said I wanted to become an artist. He called me a selfish, ungrateful weakling and threw me out of the house."

"Cloud--"

Cloud held up a hand and continued his story. "... Before she died, my mother told me she wanted me to be happy and told me to go and show the world my art. It didn't matter to her that I hadn't wanted to be a doctor. The doctors couldn't help her get well. She just... She just wanted me to go after my dream. So I did."

Tifa stared at him. Why was he telling her this?

"Look, Tifa... All I'm trying to say is that I understand a little bit of how you feel." He looked at her with his clear, blue eyes. "I'm not going to judge you because of your choices. You did what you had to do to stay alive. That doesn't make what you did right, but no one's perfect... We all make mistakes; we all sinned at one point in our lives. But that shouldn't bring us down and stop us from living, from doing better. From going after our dreams... I went after mine, and here I am. What about you?"

He stared at her and she stared right back. For a moment, neither of them moved, just trying to hold the other's gaze. Deep blue locked with wine-red and held fast.

Tifa folded her legs, unmindful of her nudity, and leaned forward so that her face was mere inches from his. "I want to ask you a question, Cloud, and I want you to answer it truthfully."

"Okay." Cloud swallowed at her proximity. He hadn't forgotten that she was naked. "I'll try."

"Is that all you want?" Tifa asked, repeating the question she had asked him earlier. "Is this really all you want from me? For me to be your model so you can draw me?"

Cloud's heart was pounding painfully in his chest. He knew what she was asking him. "If I said yes, I would be lying to you, so... No."

Tifa leaned even closer to him, until their faces were only a breath apart. The doll fell to the bed, unheeded, and the sketch lay forgotten, almost finished, on the chair.

Cloud's heart rate sped up. Her eyes were so beautiful, deep orbs of swirling red-brown. Staring into them was making him feel dizzy. And she smelled so good... Like jasmine and vanilla. One of her hands reached up and stroked his messy spikes.

Slowly, almost experimentally, she closed the distance between them and laid her lips on his. His mouth was soft and tasted vaguely of peppermint and cinnamon. Tifa could feel him tense as she let her tongue glide along the crease between his lips.

Cloud tried to keep his head as Tifa kissed him. But he was failing. Miserably. He wasn't very good with women. Sure, he'd had a few girlfriends and he wasn't a novice when it came to matters of the bedroom, but with Tifa... He was unsure, afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing, of her retreating into herself while her eyes became cold and distant again.

"Cloud?" Tifa murmured into his mouth, waiting for him to make the next move. When he didn't do anything, she took his hand and guided it to her right breast, letting him feel its fullness. She turned her gaze back to his face and saw his blue eyes darken with desire.

"Isn't this what you want?"

His eyes held hers and she could see the struggle in the cerulean depths. "Only if it's what you want as well, Tifa... I'm not going to force you into anything just because I couldn't control myself."

Tifa inhaled a sharp breath. No one --not a single one of the men she had been with-- had ever taken her own desires into consideration. All they ever did was take from her, from her body, until they were sated, and she was left feeling empty and used. None of them cared if she thought they were forcing her. To them, she was nothing but a whore; as long as they paid her, they were justified in doing whatever they wanted, her feelings be damned.

Now, here was this man offering to set aside his own urges so she could have what she wanted, even if what she wanted was to deny him her body.

"Yes, Cloud." Tifa moved her hand from his hair down to his face, tracing each line, arch, and hollow. Her lips followed her fingers, pressing soft kisses to his forehead, his eyelids, the bridge of his nose, his jaw. Her voice was a low murmur with no trace of coyness or flirtation, just an honest desire to reciprocate his selflessness. "It's what I want."

She slid off the window ledge onto the bed, waiting for him. Cloud marveled at the beauty spread in front of him, his for the taking. "Gaia, Tifa... You're beautiful."

Her ivory skin colored a delicious shade of pink as she flushed. "No one's ever told me that before."

It was true. She'd been told that she was pretty and that she had great tits, and that she had a nice ass; but nobody had ever used the word 'beautiful' to describe her before.

"Then all of them were probably blind." He knelt next to her on the bed. "You're... perfect."

He said the words with such reverence and it made her heart contract; not with pain, but something else she couldn't quite identify. It was too new and foreign for her, so she pushed it out of her mind for the moment. She skillfully undid his shirt and tossed it aside.

Tifa's eyes explored the contoured planes of his upper body. He was lean, but she could see his muscles rippling powerfully as he moved. The skin on his chest was smooth and pale, marred only by several scars that looked years old. She traced each scar with her fingertips. She pressed her lips to one of them and traced it gently with her tongue.

Cloud gave a choked gasp. She bent down and kissed his flat stomach. Her hands strayed lower and began unbuckling his belt. Her cool fingers touched his erection through the fabric of his trousers. He gave a low groan as she stroked repeatedly in practiced movements through heated cloth.

He hated it. There was no meaning to the act, like the empty, hollow-eyed smiles she had given him.

It wasn't what he wanted from her. It wasn't what he wanted for her.

Cloud gripped her shoulders, pushing her gently down onto the sheets. Tifa tensed. This was it, then. She closed her eyes and heard shuffling sounds from above her. She waited for him to enter her and start enjoying himself, just like the others had. When he didn't, Tifa opened her eyes.

"Cloud?"

He said nothing. Instead, he touched her face in a slow, smooth caress. His hands were hard and calloused, but they were tender as they explored her features. "So beautiful..."

Skilled artist's hands traced the arch of her cheek and the curve of her chin. She gave a little shiver as his hands trailed a path down to her neck, pausing to feel the pulse beating beneath the soft, pale skin. Slowly, Cloud bent down and pressed a reverent kiss to the hollow at the base of her throat.

Oh! The little shiver she had felt earlier skittered down her spine. It was a delicious sensation and she closed her eyes, head tilted back against the pillows, as his tongue shot out and continued the path his fingers had started.

He pressed open-mouthed kisses against her skin as he moved downward. This wasn't entirely unfamiliar to her. Some of the other men, when they hadn't been satisfied with just taking her, liked to 'play' with her first. They enjoyed it, running their hands all over her, but it had given her nothing but discomfort and pain as they handled her body roughly.

But this time, it was different, Tifa thought as she writhed underneath Cloud's ministrations. She was used to being in control. Though the men she had been with took from her, demanding ruthlessly, her body was always under her control. She could make the kinds of sounds they wanted to hear, make the motions they needed to feed their egos. But her body had never responded the way it did now... This time, she enjoyed it.

He took his time, making sure each patch of skin was explored. Every place his hands and tongue touched tingled and burned. This was new, and different, and unexpected, and Heaven help her, it felt wonderful.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as his mouth moved lower. His hands reached her breasts first and she stiffened. But he was gentle as he cupped the fullness in his hands. Tifa couldn't stop the low moan that escaped her lips as his thumb pressed and rotated one of the dusky peaks.

She arched into his hand, her mouth open and panting. Oh, Gaia, she had never felt anything like this before, not with any man.

Cloud watched her closely. Her head was tilted, her back arched and her lips parted on breathy gasps. Of course, he knew that he wasn't the first and only man she had been with, nor would he be the last. But Gaia, she was so passionate... She deserved all he had to give.

He lowered his head and took the nipple he had been fondling into his mouth. The sound she made was so sensual and so utterly female, it caused his already swollen member to grow even harder, straining against his still unshed trousers. He swirled his tongue around the aroused peak while his careful fingers caressed the other.

"Cloud!" Tifa gasped. Her fingers lost themselves in the golden strands of his hair as she pulled him closer to her.

Gaia, what was he doing? Wasn't he supposed to just take her and enjoy himself with her? But he wasn't. Again and again, his tongue swirled, tasting, suckling, pleasing her. It was driving her crazy! Her lips parted and she gave a long, pleading moan. What she was pleading for, she didn't know.

His mouth left her breasts, and she made a little whimper of protest, but he moved lower still. Down the smooth skin of her abdomen. His tongue flicked out and dipped into her navel, making her gasp in surprise. Her hands tightened on the bright, silky strands of his hair.

But he didn't stop. With his mouth, he traced a tingling path from her navel to the soft, damp curls between her legs.

"Oh!" Tifa half-gasped, half-moaned her pleasure as she felt his tongue lave over sensitive flesh. His fingers strayed lower into her slick dampness, testing her. Her own fingers curled into the bedding as her hips lifted off the bed, arching into the damp heat of his mouth and the movement of his hand. "Oh... please, Cloud..."

Cloud looked back up at her without stopping his ministrations. She was an achingly beautiful sight. Her wine-colored eyes were half-covered by long lashes. Her skin glimmered with a light sheen of moisture. Her voice was smoky and breathless, and her graceful body trembled with pleasure; pleasure he was giving her. The thought made him smile. He could smell the scent of her arousal and knew she was nearing her release. He slipped a hand beneath her arched back and brought her closer to him.

Tifa shuddered. She could feel heat pulsating from her lower abdomen to the overly-sensitized flesh beneath his mouth. She was drenched in the sensations swamping her and powerless to stop them. It was frightening, the way he was making her lose control of herself.

"It's alright, Tifa," he murmured against her heated skin. "I'm here. I'll take care of you."

His words sent shivers up her spine. It scared her, his words and the feelings they stirred in her. But she could feel him, holding her body securely against his. Shaking and crying, she let go.

It was bliss. Tifa cried out breathlessly as waves of pleasure washed over her, each sensation more powerful than the last. Her half-lidded eyes opened in wonder at the feeling. No man had ever given her pleasure before. Never had she imagined it could feel this good.

She was still trembling when she reached down and pulled Cloud up to her. Tears ran down her flushed cheeks. When Cloud saw them, he traced the tear tracks with one fingertip.

"Tifa? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry--"

Tifa shook her head, her body still shivering slightly, and smiled at him. It was a beautiful smile, the one he had wanted from the beginning. "Don't be."

She placed her hand on his chest and trailed a path downward, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down past his hips. Cloud gritted his teeth as her fingers brushed against his erection. Her cool hands wrapped around his heated length and guided him to her.

"Cloud..." Tifa said his name in a soft, smoky whisper, robbing him of all rational thought. "I need you inside me. Please..."

Cloud groaned. Her soft murmurs and whispers were making him lose his sanity. He paused only to remove the rest of his clothes, and went back to the bed. He held himself carefully above her and entered her slowly. Once he was fully inside, he held himself still, waiting for her body to accommodate him. It was difficult when her sheath was still damp and warm from her climax and his own body was threatening to betray him at the moment.

But he refused to take her like some sex-crazed maniac; she'd had enough of that, he knew. And he was damned well going to put her first, above his body's own urges.

Tifa exhaled a slow breath as she felt Cloud inside her, filling her. Gaia, it had never, ever, been like this. She had barely recovered from her earlier release and now her body was heating up again. It felt so wonderful, feeling him inside her body. She looked up at him. He was breathing heavily as he held himself still over her.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him deeper. "Don't stop..."

He gave a low groan and began to move, thrusting deeply in and out of her. Her head fell back as she took him inside her, again and again, letting him fill her. His breath hissed between clenched teeth as Cloud pressed deeper. One of his hands fisted in the dark curtain of hair spread out around them, while the other stroked her cheek.

Their bodies tangled and hips rocking against each other, Tifa pulled his head down to hers. Cloud needed no more invitation. Their mouths fused together, tongues intent on tasting, exploring. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she gave a soft cry against his mouth. They were completely entangled now. Joined hands. Twined limbs. Neither could tell where one ended and the other began. She could feel each individual scar on his body. He could taste the salty tears running down her face.

Cloud held her closer, thrust deeper. "Tifa..."

Tifa moaned and writhed against him. Her release was coming. She could feel it; the heady sensation of losing control was threatening to overwhelm her again. She was lost, almost drowning in the intense pleasure of it. The only real thing left was Cloud, the sound of his voice and the feel of him moving inside her.

"Oh, Cloud!"

She cried his name into his lips as she came apart under him. Her arms twined around his neck and she sobbed into his shoulder as she rode the waves of pleasure cresting through her. Tifa clung to him, allowing him to anchor her as her body spiraled out of control.

Cloud, feeling her clench around him, drove into her one last time before finding his own release. He gave a long, drawn-out groan as he came. His head dropped onto her shoulder, burying his face in the soft, fragrant strands of her midnight hair.

They lay motionless, still joined, for a moment, savoring the last tremors of their climax. Finally, when his muscles felt as if they could support him no longer, Cloud withdrew from her and lay beside her on the bed.

Tifa turned onto her side, laying her head on his arm and pressing a kiss to his chest. "Thank you."

Cloud looked down at her. Her face was streaked with tears, but she was smiling. Really smiling, with her eyes this time. He crooked his arm over her slender shoulders while his other hand brushed the tears away.

"Tifa, I--"

Slender fingers pressed over his lips, cutting him off.

Somehow, she knew what he was going to say, and she couldn't let him say it. She couldn't, because this night had been the most beautiful, the most perfect night of her life... And now that the sun was slowly peeking through the windows of her room, the night was over, and it hurt. It hurt as if someone was ripping her heart out, tearing it into a million tiny pieces along the way... And saying it would only make the hurt worse.

Cloud trailed off and she lay beside him silently. She nuzzled into his side for a moment, thinking of how best to tell him what she wanted to say. "Remember what you asked me earlier? About my dream?"

"Yeah." Her hair was spread out over them. He stroked the dark tresses in a reassuring caress. "You wanna tell me about it?"

Her fingers fidgeted anxiously against his chest. "Promise you won't laugh?"

"Well, that depends. Is it funny?"

She poked him in the ribs. "No. It's not funny. It's just... silly. Especially for someone like me."

"Someone like you?"

Tifa cast him an exasperated glance. "Oh, come on, Cloud. I'm not an idiot. I know how people see me. I know what people think of me and the things I do to stay alive. And I know that not everyone can accept me like you can... So shut up and promise you won't laugh, or I won't tell you my dream."

Cloud cleared his throat and carefully schooled his expression. "Okay, I won't laugh."

Tifa took a deep breath. "Ever since I was a little girl, I knew that my parents were deeply in love. They were always happy around each other, always smiling and laughing. My mother told me that she had run away from home because she had been expecting me. She didn't care that the family she left behind had disowned her. It was all she ever wanted: to have a child with the man she loved."

She traced one of his scars lightly as she spoke. "When I came along, and my little brother after me, everything was perfect. Until everything fell apart..." She paused for a moment and looked up at him. "But my mother's words and her dream... They stuck to me somehow… and then her dream became my dream, too. That's how I survived this place. That's how I managed to live with myself even with everything that happened to my family, to me. Because I had my dream."

"That's your dream?" Cloud asked, with genuine curiosity. "To have a child with the man you love?"

She nodded and ducked her face under the crook of his arm. "I know, it's silly. You can laugh if you want."

"I'm not laughing."

Tifa looked up and surveyed his face. He was smiling, but he didn't seem to be humoring or patronizing her. "Really?"

Cloud nodded. "It's a good dream, and no sillier than a boy who was supposed to be a doctor wanting to be an artist."

For a moment, Tifa stared at him, her expression unreadable. Then she laid her lips on his and kissed him. A slow, thorough, and passionate kiss that was full of things neither of them could give words to. Tifa wanted that kiss to go on forever, but she could feel the thin rays of sunlight begin to warm her bare back. She pulled away from him, giving his lower lip one last taste. Slowly, she sat up and held the sheet up to her chest.

"I'm going after my dream, Cloud. I want you to go after yours, too... Go out to the world and show them your art."

Cloud's cerulean eyes met hers. "Come with me, Tifa."

"What?!"

His declaration seemed to have spurred him to life. He stood up from the bed and began pulling on his trousers. "Tifa, you can leave this place. Come with me, and we'll--"

She rose to her knees on the bed and reached out, taking his face in her hands. "No, Cloud... I told you, I know what people think of me. If I'm seen with you, people will never accept you. They'll hate you too, because they will never understand. They'll hate you because of me, and I don't want that!"

Cloud shook his head vehemently as he faced her. "I don't care!!! I don't care if they hate me! We'll have each other! Tifa, please... Just come with me!"

Tifa's beautiful wine-red eyes filled with tears. "I can't. This wasn't supposed to go beyond this night, Cloud. You knew that from the start. I can't go with you. Listen to me... No, listen!" She took his face in her hands again as he tried to turn away.

"If you really do love me, Cloud Strife, then you will walk out that door, go after your dream, and never look back."

They looked at each other for a long moment. Cloud's mind was fixed, and so was Tifa's. Neither one would back down… In the end, it was someone else who made the decision for them.

"What the hell is going on here?!" A cold, dangerous voice asked from the doorway. The couple on the bed turned just in time to see a tall man with long silver hair at the door. His face was twisted in rage as he looked first at Tifa, then at Cloud, then back at her.

"You tried to trick me, you little bitch!" The newcomer approached the bed, his green eyes glowing dangerously. "You worthless piece of trash! I let you stay here, and this is what I get?!"

Tifa leapt out of the bed and faced the man who had to be at least twice her size. "Sephiroth--"

Sephiroth raised his hand as though to strike her, but Cloud stepped in front of Tifa in an attempt to shield her. The man's glowing green eyes settled on him, and narrowed with manic rage. "You!!!"

He seized Cloud by the neck and bodily dragged him from the room. As he struggled for breath, Cloud could hear Tifa's screams behind them. "Cloud! No! Sephiroth, let go of him! Cloud!!!"

The man's grip on his throat didn't loosen. Through his hazy vision, he could see people coming out of their rooms.

Yuffie's head poked inquisitively out of one of the rooms. "Oh, did Seph lose his temper again? Seriously, that guy is hot, but he needs a shrink... Oh, hey, handsome artist guy! Leaving so soon?"

Scarlet lounged at the doorway to her room. She laughed as Cloud passed by, being hauled by Sephiroth. "You know, my little chocobo, if you'd picked me last night, you wouldn't be having this problem right now."

The people from this twisted, bizarre world had come up to say one last goodbye to the man who never did belong here, Cloud thought vaguely as Sephiroth dragged him down the stairs by the neck. His vision was hazy from the lack of air, but he could see Tifa's blurry form, wrapped in one of her sheets, as she raced down the stairs behind him.

"Sephiroth, no!"

Cloud could hear the sound of a door being wrenched open and a second later, the grip on his throat loosened and blessed oxygen once more filled his lungs. His relief was short-lived, however, as he found himself sailing down the steps of Mother's establishment, landing painfully on his rear end.

"Cloud!!!" Tifa was hurrying toward him, but Sephiroth pushed her roughly back inside and turned to Cloud, his face alight with hatred. He threw Cloud's sketchbook and pencils after him. They scattered on the street, strewing the pavement with papers and cherished sketches.

"Worthless scum!" Sephiroth sneered at him, before dragging Tifa back inside the house and slamming the door in Cloud's face. Undeterred, Cloud got to his feet and pounded on the door.

"Tifa! Tifa! Tifa!!!"

He pounded on the dilapidated door again and again, trying to get Tifa's attention, at the same time hoping to throw the door off its hinges. "Tifa!!!"

A few moments later, the door opened, but the face in the doorway was not the one he wanted to see. Instead, three people faced him. One was Kadaj; the second was a burly young man with short silver hair, and the third was a shorter, younger teenage boy, with silver hair almost as long as Sephiroth's.

"Where's Tifa?!" Cloud demanded. "I need to speak to her!"

Kadaj stepped forward and smiled cruelly at him. "Tifa belongs to Brother. Brother doesn't like other people putting their dirty paws on his things."

The three circled him, and before Cloud could register what was happening in his brain, the long-haired boy had pinned his arms behind his back. Grinning maliciously, Kadaj aimed a punch to Cloud's stomach, making him double over in pain.

The tallest of the three made an impatient, growling noise. Kadaj gave him a patronizing sneer. "Don't cry, Loz. You'll get your turn... Yazoo, hold him still."

As Kadaj and Loz took turns beating him up, Cloud could hear screams coming from one of the upstairs bedrooms. "Tifa!!!" he bellowed.

What the hell was that bastard, Sephiroth, doing to her?! Cloud struggled against Yazoo's grip and managed to free an arm. He sent it swinging and his knuckles cut across Loz's face, drawing blood.

"My nose!" Loz clutched at his face, blood seeping between his fingers. To Cloud's surprise, the hulking mass of a man burst into tears. "Mother! The worthless scum broke my nose!"

Mother herself appeared and took in the scene: Yazoo and Kadaj struggling to get Cloud under control, Loz clutching his nose while fat tears leaked from his eyes, and Cloud fighting tooth and nail to get back into the house.

"Why do I have to do everything around here?!"

With a sigh, she reached behind her for something. Cloud saw a flash of silver. Then there was a horrible 'crack!!!' His head exploded in pain, and everything went dark.

Mother studied the young man's bloodied face. Her fingers fumbled in his neck for a pulse. When she felt the faint fluttering, she nodded. There was no use having a murder charge on her head. Though her clientele did ensure her immunity, it wouldn't really help to have that on top of this whole Tifa fiasco.

She sighed. She should have known that girl would be trouble. Too headstrong, too sure of herself, her head full of useless 'dreams' that had no place in this kind of business. I never should have taken her in...

Mother shook her head and turned to her sons.

"Loz, stop your blubbering and clean this pipe up," she handed him the metal pipe smeared with Cloud's blood. "Kadaj, Yazoo--"

She looked at the young man again. He was sprawled on the ground, surrounded by useless scraps of paper.

"Get the trash out before Mr. Shinra gets here. He's been asking for Scarlet again."

*****

That was the last time I ever saw her.

I came back, of course. Mother threatened to call the police, and all four of her sons had no objection to beating me up again. Finally, it was Yuffie who took pity on me and told me that Tifa was gone. The very day I walked away from that damned house, she left.

I tried for years to find her, but it was as if she had disappeared. I went to her old hometown, but those who remembered her said that she had not been seen there in eleven years. I scoured more than half the Planet, but I couldn't find her.

"Go after your dream and never look back." That was the last thing she said to me. For the past twenty years, I have been going after my dream. I am now a world-renowned artist. My works hang in galleries and museums and homes of the rich... I have shown the world my art.

I tried not to look back. I truly did. I married, had two children. Marlene is an artist, like her old man; Denzel is in medical school. I am proud of both of them. My wife, Aerith, is wonderful. She is patient, kind, and supportive; a man couldn't have asked for a more perfect wife.

But often, when I lie in bed beside her, I long to see fiery, wine-colored eyes and hair like midnight, to hear a low, smoky voice whisper brokenly of a tortured past to me...

Someone is knocking on the door. Aerith is in the greenhouse, tending to her flowers, and so I open the door and peer through the shadows... A slender figure stands at my doorstep, dressed simply, but elegantly, in a black dress. Her face is covered by a dark, wide-brimmed hat.

"Cloud Strife?" A low, sweet voice asks.

"Yes?"

A deep breath, and hands covered in black lace gloves fidget nervously. "I was sent here by my mother. She passed away three days ago."

My brows furrow in confusion. "Who are you? Who was your mother and why did she send you here?"

"She asked me to give you this." The young woman reaches into the dainty bag at her shoulder and pulls out a small ceramic doll with a cracked face, burnt clothes, and a missing foot. The very same doll in my sketch. That drawing now lies in my safe. No one knows of its existence except me and the woman in the picture, the owner of this doll.

I take the doll from this stranger's hand and examine its features. The smile has still not faded, and the brown eyes still shine and sparkle even after more than thirty years. I turn to the person in front of me, and she speaks in a quiet murmur.

"My mother also sent me here to tell you that she found her dream. Thanks to you."

Another deep breath, and the hat is slowly removed from her head.

Dark hair slides from its carefully arranged knot and tumbles down past the young woman's slender shoulders. She looks up at me, finally revealing her face. It is a face that belongs to an angel. The face of the woman who has haunted my dreams for the past twenty years.

Yet something is different. Then I realize what it is. Her eyes are not the red-brown color I have been expecting. Instead they are a deep blue, like the color of the ocean.

My eyes.

The young woman graces me with a smile. "My name is Heaven Lockhart-Strife... I'm your daughter."

THE END

A/N: Just to clarify, I generally loathe Claerith, but I like putting them in my angsty CloTi fics to provide contrast and emo-ness... Also, I love Sephiroth when he's in pre-Nibelheim mode, and I really didn't want to use him as a villain here, but I couldn't think of anyone else. Sorry, Sephie, I tried. T_T

Another thing: I never finished FFVII or played Dirge of Cerberus, so forgive me if Lucrecia (or anyone else, for that matter) is OOC. I just needed someone to play her part, and she was the only one I could think of. T_T

Again, buckets and buckets of thanks to vLuna and ObsessiveCompulsiveValkyrie for proofreading this! (Unfortunately, I couldn't find another word for 'hot')

Please tell me your thoughts. Drop a review. Some constructive criticism. Anything (Just no flames). I'd really appreciate it.

Thanks for reading this!!! See you in the next chapter!!! Hopefully.