Vignettes of Tifa and Vincent:
Northern Light Conversation
Key:
Italics are character's thoughts
Bold italics are the demons' thoughts inside Vincent
Important: This switches back and forth between Tifa and Vincent's perspective. We begin with Tifa's perspective. At each line break it will change.
Half an hour had passed since I'd laid down to sleep. I realized shortly after that sleep was a privilege I wouldn't have. The violent onslaught of images brought on by the darkness chased away my exhaustion. The reality of Aeris' death had finally settled and there were not enough tears in the world to do justice to the pain.
I stared dazedly out the crystalized glass, around white laden pine branches and over the snow capped rooftops, and she was everywhere. That smile and her intense bright eyes, and the haunting whisper of her voice somewhere inside me, wouldn't surrender the night. The trees seemed so lonely standing there motionless in the twilight, as lonely as my own heart. My fingers wanted to dig into the comforter and burry my body in denial.
What now?
A cold draft had permeated the walls of the room; singed logs sat cool in the shadows of the fireplace. How sick the irony--I'd been traveling over wild country for weeks and I still couldn't build a decent fire. I felt so miserable and tired and alone, and now I was cold. What would they think if they saw me like this? My travel companions...I wonder if they'd think me weak? Or would they too lose hope? I was supposed to be the binding glue of our entourage.
There had always been someone else to harden the glue though, someone to help me bear the burden. Someone that could listen to my problems without letting the others know that I had them, and who would advise me. That person had been Aeris these past weeks.
Funny how when you need something the most it never seems to be there.
My eyes were filling with moisture again. If I sank my teeth into my lip any harder I'd have my own piercing. I couldn't risk waking anyone and having them find me like this.
The pressure of all my guilt and emotional confusion was building ready to burst from the groaning dam that kept it.
I wanted to be strong for them, but I had nothing left.
I swallowed the sobbing and sat up. I would go crazy in this silence if I didn't get some fresh air. My gaze drifted absently to the undefined lump in the next bed. Only the top of her ebony head was visible. She'd been asleep at least an hour ago, and the likelihood of waking her was slim at best. Yuffie could sleep through blaring trumpets and a 9.0 earthquake.
If I was going to worry about someone hearing me it would be those two gentlemen next door. Cid was like Yuffie in that respect, however, Vincent was an entirely different matter. He was a frustratingly light sleeper on the occasion it occurred to him to sleep.
He hadn't expressed any awareness or curiosity towards me before, concerning my nighttime habits, so I was content to assume that tonight wouldn't be any different.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and fumbled around for my boots. Tears streamed slowly down my cheeks, on drop –two– splashing against my fingers as I tied the laces. I tried to ignore it and focus on anything but hopelessness. I wanted so much to confide in someone, to let my heart out, but it was bottled up inside poisoning my spirit.
Every noise I made seemed to carry in volume through the stillness of night as I clomped across the floor. Sometimes I would stop and just listen, half expecting someone to burst through the door and demand an explanation for the noise.
No one came. I'm not sure if I should be relieved or depressed by that.
Her memory was hovering in the corners of my mind, waiting. Behind her was the image of Cloud's face, as it had appeared when he laid her to rest. My teeth were clenched as I fought to control the grief welling up inside..
There was more left in the wake of her passing than just loss of a friend; there was another loss that I wasn't ready to face. I refused to give it even a moment's thought. I would have to cope with the loss of the former before I could confront the latter.
I grabbed a coat on the way out. It was one of those poof coats that made you look like an inflated balloon, but they were warm. I stole a final glance back at the room and its last inhabitant, so peaceful–I envied her–, and slipped out into the hall.
Aeri sand I always shared rooms before. That was our "Girl Time". She was the closest female friend I'd ever had.
My back sagged heavily against the door, shutting it firmly. It resounded louder than I intended and I froze for a moment, listening for movement anywhere. I was rewarded with silence; painful silence.
I thought my knees would buckle as I leaned back with a soundless cry. She as gone–he was gone. Everything I had was gone.
And there was no one to cry to.
Cloud would shrug me away, too immersed within his own grief. Barret would listen, but he wouldn't know what to say. He was never good with crying girls anyhow. Yuffie was too young, Cid too gruff, like Barret. Nanaki was a viable option, but how could I thrust myself upon him? How could I do it to anyone?
My head thudded against the door, and I spun away from it. In all truth any one of them would be more than happy to offer their shoulders to cry on, even Yuffie. Pride stopped me from going to them. I couldn't admit that I wasn't tough enough. They were looking up to me to hold them together and I felt like a miserable liar because it was all a pathetic facade.
There was one other that I hadn't considered and for obvious reasons: Vincent. I shouldn't have even entertained the thought, but he had a voice...a beautiful voice. That voice could sweep you off your feet and melt your soul with its soothing resonance. There wasn't another sound in the world that could quell my anxieties more effectively.
He knocked my heart rate down a notch whenever I was nervous and made the impossible seem like a piece of cake, such was the extent of his gift. He could be announcing the end of the world and I would be ready to face everything.
I could use a level head right now.
I turned my head hesitantly at the next room down the hall. Some external force of will compelled my feet to move and in a moment I was standing before the very door. My hands trembled and worried the fabric of my skirt as I debated whether to knock. It was late, almost midnight at least (I'd been keeping track of the agonizingly slow lapse of time while I lay wide awake in bed). Was this really appropriate?
I shook my head sharply as my fist hovered a few inches from the wooden surface of the door. This was stupid. I was stupid. It wasn't right to stack this on him, especially considering how we hardly knew each other. The circumstances would be too awkward,. He might laugh at me for all I knew, or call me weak.
That was ridiculous of course, to say the least, but I wasn't thinking rationally.
I was going to turn away and leave when fate intervened. It was quite the shock when the door swung open unbidden and I found myself illuminated by the merciless glow of the fire burning within. Suffice to say, I was frozen with mortification.
Vincent's mildly startled red eyes were flecked with orange and yellow, a fire of their own. The moment was clearly waiting on me to say something. When I did not his brow lifted ever so slowly, examining the situation with a diligence that only Vincent knew.
My cheeks flushed hot and I opened my mouth, but words would only pave the way for tears, the humiliation of which I couldn't bare..
I swallowed hard, willing myself to be calm, to come up with some excuse for this 'coincidental' meeting. He was neither amused nor agitated, but Vincent was a talented mask-designer and made people believe whatever he wanted them to. It was just my luck that a flicker of understanding flashed in his calm, unassuming gaze, and with it every chord of my resolve snapped.
Why did you open the door?!
My hands were first to react as I burst into tears, covering my shamed face before I could see his reaction. I'd spent days building my wall only to have it unraveled in a single breath.
Oh gods... "I'm sorry." It was the only clear sound I made amidst the muddled sobbing and choking.
If only he hadn't opened the door, I could've left and he would never have known. Everything would've resolved itself in time.
Before I could even try to explain myself, Vincent was in hall beside me, closing the door to his room. He took me by the hand without a word and started down the hall, and that is where our journey began.
I was awake, sitting by the window in fact, when I heard shuffling in the room next door. It did not concern me as I'd become accustomed to Tifa's late night excursions and was content to let her be. She never slept as often as the others. She would rather vent her sorrows to the empty air than have her friends know that she was human too, with her own fears and sorrows. Stubborn to the end so as not to be a burden to anyone.
Only she was, unbeknownst to her. It was becoming increasingly difficult for me to concentrate on reading when she started pacing next door. Her, and Cid muttering in his sleep. I cursed my heightened sense of hearing tenfold on these nights. Could I but be normal, and my soul as hard as I claim.
Tonight got the best of me. The sobbing was the final grain to tip the scale. She had quieted for a time, and I thought for a moment that I might be saved the trouble, but the sound of her door slamming sealed my fate.
I stood up from the window with more resolve than I felt, and set down my book–it was an exceptionally good one.
Having not been around her long enough to develop a sure understanding of her tendencies and personality, I couldn't be certain just what was going through her mind to send her running blindly off into the night . Understandably, I was disturbed by her strange behavior and felt that it justified some 'looking into'. I would not have to be seen.
There was a quite fear in the back of my mind too of stumbling, too late, upon another tragedy. With that thought I scarcely touched the floor I came so swiftly to the door. I would drag her back by force, so help me, if she indicted the slightest inkling of suicide. .
I stopped short. Am I mad? Where had this deep concern so suddenly sprouted from to have me sprinting down hallways in pursuit of a woman?
I would have burned holes in that door had my curse encompassed such a skill, but it did not.
I might have turned back then, but my conscience, frayed though it is, still functions when I deem it necessary. She wouldn't have to know that I was there and I could keep an eye on her until I was satisfied that she was safe. I wouldn't have to risk exposing myself to her.
If I allowed them believe I cared, the bonds that were inevitably growing between us all would only strengthen. I couldn't allow that. Or so was my twisted logic. Being a half demon has a wonderfully twisted influence on one's thoughts.
My hand wrung the life from that doorknob as I twisted it open. I was not aware that I'd even been reaching for it.
How I do wish I hadn't.
There was no warning heralding the broken display of a girl awaiting me on the other side of that door. To say that I was stunned would be a grievous understatement. I was so many things all at once, none of which I had any control over or knew what to do with.
I still couldn't fathom how I had not heard her approach the door. I'd been standing right there entirely oblivious to her presence on the other side.
Yet another reason why I shouldn't allow feelings to get in the way of thinking. I was becoming lax and clumsy. It seemed that even 30 years in the coffin could not rid me of those trivial human emotions which no demon should rightly possess.
Her gaping mouth and puffy, reddened eyes stared up at me with an expression of comical horror. Later we would laugh at ourselves in that moment, but in that moment the faintest hint of amusement would have been terribly erroneous under the circumstances..
I knew instantaneously why she had come. My efforts to remain calm and guarded were in vain against the power the trust she was so graciously putting in me. I could not fathom to turn her away as vulnerable as she was.
She'd come to me–Gods' know why–of all people. That traitorous shred of pride left in me swelled to be held in such high esteem.
Although, she could've been looking for Cid. But as much as I was beginning to enjoy his odd company, I doubted that it was his guidance she sought, as his advice so often advocated a pack of cigarettes.
She burst into unrestrained tears like nothing but a grown woman whose had far much to deal with on her plate can. I wish I was any better at consoling than Barret or Cid, but I could scarcely hope to live up to her expectations.
Oh hell...
"I'm sorry." It poured in out one quick, guilt-laden, breath. She didn't mean to be here, hadn't wanted to be discovered, and I'd inadvertently cornered her.
Amazing what the simple action of opening a door can do.
I moved into the hall and close the door before her woes could carry into my room. Cid had surprised me on more than one occasion with his uncanny ability to wake up whenever I specifically desired that he not.
It was necessary to usher her away from here as soon as possible. She would wake the entire building, given time, if I did not. That is the only reason why I'd ever deem to touch her, I've told myself many times. I thought it would do her good to lead her someplace else.
In reality, I had no idea what I was doing, or even why. Had I realized that the simple act of taking her hand in mine would so change the course of our futures, I would gladly have taken it again.
At the top of the stairs she finally stopped and refused to budge. I turned back at her calmly. Tifa was not a woman to be led around, even when under extreme duress. She was bound to retaliate sooner or later, and I would've been disappointed had she not. Either that or very concerned.
Her swollen eyes regarded me with both uncertainty and curiosity. "Where are we going?" She asked quietly, hiccuping.
"There is something I thought you might like to see." I explained. I hoped. "We may speak outside."
Tifa tilted her head at that, surprised. "Talk?" She blinked. "Are you sure?"
"That is what you wanted when you came to my door, isn't it?" I inquired steadily.
She bowed her head sheepishly as one boot lifted off the floor to rub the back of her opposite leg. "Y-yeah. I guess."
"Then let us be on our way." I hastened down the stairs, relieved that her heat no longer stung the hand which had held her. Her footsteps were not far behind.
An oil lamp cast a dull glow on the first floor, set nearby the snoring night watch as he sprawled out over the inn's front desk. Tifa stopped to examine the flicker flames. Her brow wrinkled and she stepped away momentarily to scoot the lamp beyond the range of the innkeepers precariously twitching elbow.
I watched her, oddly fascinated by the display. Such care and awareness while in her current state of mind was to be commended.
She was smiling apologetically when she turned back around, her eyes glossy and immeasurably sad. Shadows danced across her reddened face, drawing out the beauty buried beneath hours of misery.
It was becoming increasingly difficult not to develop feelings for these people. They were always finding ways of undermining my resolve.
No matter how many tears she may cry, Tifa maintained a strict dedication to her duty as a friend and person that never ceased to amaze me. Nothing deprived her of her senses. Always others before herself.
Entirely too selfless for so wonderful a woman.
He was looking at me in such a way that I was feeling very self-conscious. I'd already felt thoroughly terrible for having disrupted his evening. Did he have to look at me so intently? Maybe there was something on my teeth.
I edged towards him, careful looking away, and waited for something to happen. That force was carrying me along again, only this time it seemed to radiate from Vincent himself, like a gravitational pull. I was seemingly at the mercy of his whim.
After a brief lapse in time, he pivoted towards the door and disappeared outside.
A gust of cold air swept around my exposed legs as I followed him out and I shivered. I traced his footsteps with hobbling leaps and bound (such long legs). He was so quiet and focused. What it was that so strongly held his attention I couldn't fathom. When he stopped I narrowly avoided colliding into him, as I had, evidently, been quite immersed in my own thoughts.
His eyes peered up at the sky and their depth seemed eternal. He lifted a glistening golden gauntlet, indicating a point in the sky. Whatever it was had enraptured him thoroughly. I wish I had not been so cold.
I followed his guidance though, despite the growing numbness of my flesh. There was something here that he wanted me to see, and Vincent so rarely expressed such an devout interest in anything, to another person.
My breath caught in surprise, and I smiled through tears of joy. I had enjoyed nights under the stars in Nibelheim, but none that I remember were ever so clear as this, nor did the Auroras Borealis ever reach that far south.
The sky was streaked with pale green and lavender bands of dancing light waves. Some fluttered as ribbons in the wind while others were like waves, rolling slow and graceful across the sky. They were slightly transparent against the blackness of night, and bright enough to blind the stars nearby.
Their colors changed fluctuated between hues of purple and the common green, to scant traces of red and pink at the very ends. It was like nothing I'd ever seen. Their tendrils stretched from one horizon to the other and out of sight beyond the mountains.
"It's beautiful." I breathed. I realized, absently, that my hand was on Vincent's arm and that our bodies were considerably closer than before, though I attribute that to my sub-conscious need for warmth.
The northern lights reflected brightly off the crystalized snow and illuminated the night, just like a fool moon would.
Simply beautiful.
"I heard stories about them when I was a child." I murmured. "It's been so long that I'd nearly forgotten, not that the stories did them justice.." I glanced his way and paused, startled.
Vincent was oblivious to me in his entrancement. I couldn't believe it, nor did I expect it.. It was a rare thing to see him expressing such deep emotion. I was suddenly afraid to move, lest I break the enchantment and lose that image of him, even if it was not for me.
He was content in that moment. No guilt, no sins, no pain; only blissful respite.
My mind seemed to fold around that idea of him and then there was only Vincent. He was too at peace to notice my watching him. I don't know how much time passed–it might have only been seconds, but they were the longest seconds of my life.
This side of him was so very different from what I was accustomed to expect. I was being given a glimpse of the man behind the mask, a most unwonted privilege. The man who shunned human interaction and fought in cold silence beside his comrades.
I smiled sadly. If only he knew the power of his voice, might he talk more? It left me with a feeling of mischief that I was taking advantage of this moment to study him when he wasn't aware. This distraction was welcome though.
The mood was perfectly peaceful, and the world alive with magic, emotion and a gentle, loving passion for quiet contentment. There was the man too, wrought with secrets galore just waiting to be discovered. I was too intrigued to let the opportunity pass. Maybe, just maybe, he would divulge a secret or two before he closed his walls again.
"Vincent," I spoke aloud to him softly, studying every crevice of his face with an unfamiliar longing. He was handsome, devastatingly so, but you had to see past the frightening visage to realize it.
I swallowed hard and tried not to think that way. He was simply a friend that I sought for guidance, or maybe to guide. To admit there was more to it than that would bring unwanted difficulties.
Now was just for two people in need of one's company for a night. Tomorrow would be back to life.
Few things quell the spirit like the silence of a clear night spent under the stars or the inescapable notice of a remarkled woman. I was not so consumed by my appreciation for inadamant beauty to not notice that of the flesh. Staring was customarily expected when your body was so altered as mine and I had long since come to terms with it. Somehow her intense scrutiny was different though. I confess, it took all the willpower I possessed not to buckle beneath that stare.
I cannot...forget.
How long had it been since I felt this contentment? How long since I could endure the presence of a warm body so near to mine and not push them away? Even the haunting knowledge that I was undeserving of such exquisite company could not take away this moment.
"Vincent," Her voice pervaded the silence, and with a sigh the spell departed into the night. It was foolish to wish that such moments lasted forever, but the memory would remain eternal.
Time to listen. She had, after all, come out to talk, but I was I prepared for a conversation that carried os much weight? I hardly knew the woman. What guidance could I give?
"Can we still win?" She blurted out hastily. She was biting her lip again.
I regarded her quizzically, "Is that not why we still fight?"
Tifa pursed her lips impatiently, "Yes, but, do you still believe?" She demanded earnestly. There was an element of desperation there. "I feel...I feel like it's all so hopeless now."
"We make our hope by fighting back." I replied. And what hope have I but for revenge? "I would not be here were victory not an option." Would I?
Tifa smiled wearily. "I guess not." She murmured sadly. "It's just...never mind." Her hair fell about her face as she looked away.
I took a step forward to look back at her. "Fear is nothing to be ashamed of, Tifa. Everyone fears."
She glanced passed me towards the sky as fresh tears glistened on her pale skin. With a deep breath she composed herself. "I'm never as strong as I want to be. I'm always depending on someone else."
May the gods help me, I'm not the right person for this. "You demand far too much from yourself." I answered promptly."It is not your responsibility to maintain the sanity of our group at all times--it is difficult enough to maintain your own. Let yourself rest, Tifa. You have most certainly earned it."
Tifa sighed. "Maybe." She agreed reluctantly. "I'm sure you're right. You always are." She smiled sadly, "Sometimes I wish I were more like you."a
My jaw tightened reflexively. Bloody fool. "No, you do not. You are capable. Have courage in your own abilities to make the right decisions."
"I don't think I'm smart enough." She said wistfully.
I winced to hear those words so effortlessly spoken, for she believed them.
Her eyes lifted to mine, "I spent 5 years in the slums, remember? As a bar hostess in a mini skirt to make matters worse. I never had much of an education."
"Don't be a fool." I snapped. I was furious. I could have taken her by the shoulders and shaken her, but I had to hold my temper if I were to talk any sense into her. "Self-pity serves no advantageous purpose. It will destroy you given the chance. We all have experienced hopelessness--it is overcoming it that seperates us from others. You have a job to do. They depend on you--Cloud more than anyone. He is our most powerful weapon, but you are the heart."
Tifa was downcast and silent. The fear was slowly fading and her expression hardened. "You're right." Tifa agreed calmly. Her eyes were ghostly as she looked up at me. "I have to be strong for her too. We can't let her death be in vain." She clenched her hands determinedly. "Thank you, Vincent. You've been such a great help."
I grunted and turned away wordlessly. That was enough talking to last me at least a week, and all in one 15 minute sitting. She was far more cunning than she gave herself credit for, always fabricating ways in which to draw me into conversation, and succeeding more often than I cared to admit.
The more she drew me from the sanctuary of my solitude, the harder it was for me to retreat. I had to escape before she did worse.
My heart stopped to see his back turn to me; he was closing his shell again. It was always this way when he got too close to being human. For reasons I cannot understand, Vincent was afraid to feel. Whatever past he hid behind that mask was eating him apart, but until he was ready to reveal it, no one could help him.
"I wish you'd let us in." I called after him. It was a risk, but one that I was willing to take, if only to receive an angry retort. I might learn from it.
Vincent stopped, but he made no effort to face me. For a moment he said nothing at all and I feared that he might continue on again without a word. Then he spoke, "It's late." He said, "We have an early start tomorrow."
I licked my lips anxiously. "We might never have this opportunity again you know." I reminded him softly. "I think I'll stay out a while longer and...enjoy this m oment as long as I can. You're welcome to stay."
He looked back at me, his eyes guarded by a shadow of doubt. "That would not be wise." He responded gravely.
"Why?" I demanded. "Tell me why, Vincent."
His head leaned back with an audible sigh. "Let it be, Tifa." He said and looked directly me in silent plea. "Let it be."
I regarded him stubbornly, watching his hair cascade down his back in a shimmering black mane, and wanted to slap him. "People care about you; they want to help." I could feel another tear slip away. "If you want to be left alone, then just go right now. I won't stop you."
Wretched woman. Wretched, beautiful woman. Too intelligent for her own good. Indeed, how could I leave now? Allowing the abomination that is Sephiroth to achieve his goals would far exceed my greatest sin. I could not go.
"I know you care, Vincent. That's a good thing. Whatever you might think about yourself, you have a heart of gold." Tifa inhaled deeply, her eyes distant. "So, don't throw away a chance for peace when it comes your way because it's hard to find in times like these."
Why don't you just twist too while you're at it? Your hand is already firmly clenched on my conscience as it is.
But you know she's right.
Away with you.
She's not asking for your hand in marriage.
Bloody hell...
Somehow I convinced myself to go back and stand beside her. Her smile glowed vitocriously at me, but behind her eyes there was only relief. She was that concerned for me? I can't say I understood why. This was a disaster in the making.
"Just this once." I informed her.
Tifa chuckled and slipped her arm casually around mine. My discomfort was obvious, but she only looked at me and winked. "Just making sure you don't try to run off on me again." She said.
"That is hardly necessary." I intoned flatly, eying our linked arms with distinct dislike. "I don't intend to leave."
"And I don't intend to seduce you, so quit being nervous." Tifa replied impatiently. She fidgeted uncertainly, "Actually, I'm cold and you're warm, and it seemed like a good idea."
I frowned casting a brief, ill-advised glance at her bare legs. "What do you expect, clothed as you are?"
Tifa gasped and broke into a wide grin. "Vicnent, I never imagined you were the type."
An unfamliar heat crept up my throat. My eyes hardened in an effort to hide my unbidden amusement. "What are you insinuating?"
She looked at me with utter fascination and promptly burst into laughter. "What I wouldn't give...for a camera right now." She managed breathlessly. "You're blushing."
I lifted one questioning brow ever so slightly at that. Had it been anyone else, I might have felt embarrassed, but this was Tifa. "Preposterous." I stated bluntly, the hint of a smile veiled behind my collar.
Tifa studied me severely, searching. Then she leaned forward, clearly violated the rules of personal space, and without warning brushed her lips every so faintly over my chin; she could hardly reach higher I towered so much over her.
"Thank you for everything." She said earnestly. "Don't drift away, ok?"
My body had been numb for so long that it seemed impossible to feel again, until now. Could have melted ice with the heat that pulsed through my veins i that moment. "Are you trying to ruin me?" I asked her pointedly, eyes narrowing considerably.
She sighed. "No, I'm trying to coax you out of that cold exterior."
You don't really want that. She could be so difficult sometimes. "I'm afraid you would be greatly disappointed. There is nothing left."
Tifa crossed her arms defiantly. "I don't believe that."
"That is your choice." I replied.
She shook her head lightly. "You're wrong. Someday I'll prove it to you." She inhaled deeply and hugged her coat closer. "You're off the hook for now, but don't think you'll get away forever."
"I should go." I turned my back to her, afraid of what my eyes would reveal. When she made no move to stop me I kept walking. Each crunching step seemed to emphasize the shattering of my shield.
I was reaching for the door when something hit me solidly in the back of the head with shocking cold. It seeped down the back of my neck torterously slow. Snow. I sucked in sharply at the dreadful freezing sensation as it shot down my back.
Tifa's voice rang out shrilly not far away as she broke into hysterical laughter. "Bullseye!" She hollered triumphantly.
She was approaching from my left as I hastily removed the excess snow before anymore of it could escape beneath my clothes. When I'd finished a rather sizeable lump of the substance had collected in my hand. Enough to exact revenge before she had a chance to recover.
"You ok?" Tifa asked suddenly and stopped beside me.
I glanced down at her narrowly and shoved the last of her handiwork into that lovely face. She let out a startled cry, staggering back and wiping her face frantically. Her eyes were widened in disbelief as she cleared her face and stared back at me.
"You...!" She gasped, holding back a startled grin. "That was hardly the action of a gentleman." Tifa huffed and walked passed towards the door with a emphasized 'humph'. She peaked back over her shoulder with a appreciative smile, "Thanks again. I feel a lot better now, like I could take on the world."
"You spent more time gawking at me than anything else." I mentioned idly.
She blushed bright red at that. "I d-don't know what you're talking about." She stammered. "I thought it was lovely."
"Why Tifa, you flatter me." I responded in jest.
Mmm, you're getting far to good at this.
She grew very quiet, her eyes glued to mine, confused and longing for...soemthing. For once the girl seemed wary, and rightfully so. "Vincent..." Tifa trailed off. She forced another smile, "You're becoming quite the dashing rogue. I think it's time we called it a night, don't you?"
"Indeed." I answered impatiently.
He opened the door for me without a word and we traversed the steps in silence. I was still recovering from what had just transpired between us seconds ago when we reached my room. What was I supposed to say to him after that? Nothing felt comfortable anymore, even his voice. It seemed to only make me more nervous, and I couldn't understand why.
I looked back at him for a moment, brooding quietly to myself. "I really enjoyed your company. Thanks." I told him earnestly.
Vincent stiffened. "Don't get used to it." He muttered and strode next door.
I frowned sadly and idly glanced his way. "Why do you insist on being unhappy?"
To my surprise, he met my gaze from down the hall, somewhat stunned. "What makes you think that?" He inquired curiously.
"Whenever you seem close to something good, you immediately shrink away from it. I don't understand, but I guess that's just how you are." I trailed off tiredly. "You enjoy tormenting yourself, don't you?"
Vincent seemed to struggle at a loss for words. He averted his gaze to the floor and exhaled loudly, "I did not ask you, or anyone else, to understand. Leave me be, Tifa. If I wanted your help, I'd ask for it."
That's always how it goes, isn't it? All of a sudden I felt very tired and worn, like I could sink to the floor and sleep endlessly. It was probably time to call it a night. He would come around eventually. Maybe it was best for both of us that he didn't now anyway.
From kindred spirit to the aloof anti-hero. If only I understood, maybe I could convince him to let me help.
Not right now, however. I had a job to do and friends' spirits to lift. This was just the first chapter of our own little side story. I'd afford it time only when I had it, and right now I didn't.
So it will have to end here. Until the next chapter, of which I'm sure, and I hope, there will be many more of.
I can read people too, sometimes, and there is more to this story.
The door closed quietly behind me as I entered my room, ignoring the obnoxious noise resonating from Cid's bed. My mind was too distracted by this new development of friendship between the woman next door and myself. Everything I sought to avoid had finally caught up with me, and I couldn't escape it anymore.
Only the task at hand would save me from it. I had to hope that it would give me enough time to reconstruct my defenses. That way I would be prepared for her the next time. She wouldn't unravel me so easily again. It was just the mood of the night that had allowed a part of me to open up to her. Nothing more.
It would not happen again. The first experience had deprived me of my sanity for long enough. For it to happen again would be disastrous.
No more...
Author's Notes: Yeah, it's sort of a one shot, but then again not so much. I'll add another chapter dealing with another important interaction between the two, or maybe two more. They'll serve as a basis for another story I have in mind concerning these two. I know, I've got other stories to work on, but I don't have any more interest in Black Feathers at the moment. I don't like it...at all - ich. The other one I intend to keep working on, but right now I'm in the mood for a different sort of story.
Oh yes, and I've finished all my school work, joy! Well, except for one final, but I'll have that finished as soon as I get the rest of my work back. Then I'll be graduating on the 31st. Anyway, I've got a lot of time to write now.
Always a joy to write for everyone. I hope you enjoyed it.
Faerlyte