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A/N: Just a brain fart while I was walking home from the bus station.
Summary: AU. “It’s like you,” He mused. “Bright… And nice to look at.” CloudxTifa
“It’s a nice color.” Tifa’s attempt to start a conversation proved futile. In all the twenty-something years she’s known him, she had never understood why he looked so depressed during mornings.
The quiet mornings seemed to suit them both. Neither minded that the mornings of the last ten years were all just the same.
But neither were aware that ten years of thoughts and emotions raged through the other’s mind.
However, that day, it only made one of them.
A certain someone’s blue eyes wandered over to the heap of arms and ebony hair sprawled over the table. She’s still tired
“Tifa,” He shook her gently. She groaned, but didn’t get up from her position. “Tifa.”
“Hn.”
Tifa’s unenthusiastic response suddenly drained the courage out of him, andthe thought of his query felt rather off. He instead decided to ignore her.
Again, she thought. He’s ignoring me. Again.
Tifa closed her eyes. They weren’t going out today. Cloud wouldn’t be going to work. Both were too comfortable in the home to step out into the four degree cold.
Cloud’s guilt for ignoring Tifa slowly ate away at him… No matter how many times he’d ignore her for the past twenty years, little by little it would bother him until he made it up to her. He hated guilt.
Although, it wasn’t as if he wasn’t already planning to say something; he’d been putting it off for days now. He was urged to ask her right away… Because the guilt was skewering him, apparently.
“The park is open tomorrow…”
Cloud heard a muffled chuckle coming from Tifa. “When is it ever not open?”
“…They built a new Ferris wheel.”
He heard a snort. “Old news, Cloud. It’s been there for weeks.”
Cloud hit a wall. This was it. “Er… Why don’t we check it out?”
Tifa said nothing. She lifted up her head and looked at him straight in the eye.
He noticed that, in the past decade, Tifa’s vibrant brown eyes have dulled quite a bit. Of course, it was the side-effect of taking care of a blonde haired adolescent that lost his mother-figure in a university massacre.
“In four degrees?”
“Why not?” His brilliant crystalline blue eyes suddenly lifted in spirit.
“Hey.” He didn’t look at her.
“Hi.”
She found him standing next to the Ferris wheel, looking up at the changing lights. She couldn’t help but notice that his face looked so… serene. It had been a while since he had looked so relaxed.
Tifa tried not to laugh. She was wondering whether he had this planned all along.
He heard her snorting amusedly, but he did not respond. And she watched as the reflection of the shifting lights danced on the surface of his crystalline eyes, emanating a beautiful animated effect.
Tifa stared up at the lights, joining him in silence, and both listened as music blared in the background, far on the other side of the carnival.
Green, to blue, to yellow, to… a glow of pink that illuminated their faces. A sudden image of an older university student appeared in their minds. Her crisp, dark pink gloss and freshly picked autumn-line outfit, her curl-ironed chestnut hair and stylish pink bow… Pink. Everything pink. Everything pink brought her into the picture.
She was very popular, with her colleagues, lecturers, teachers, peers, parents, men…
“You’re into older women?”
“…She’s not that much older.”
“I see.”
Tifa knew she was joking. But Cloud’s response confirmed that he didn’t catch the flimsy joke.
However, as time flew by… His fondness for her grew stronger, and took a different path. He already knew Zack occupied the title of ‘lover’. He knew he had no right to take that away from either of them. It bothered him for a while, although when Tifa and Cloud entered their senior year in High School, his ‘fondness’ for her… changed.
“Do you miss her?”
Cloud wanted to say ‘Yes, I miss her, I miss her very much. I think about her all the time. I want you to know that.’ But… that would be a huge, fucking lie. Because to be completely honest, he barely gave her a thought.
“Not really, no.” He couldn’t remember how often they’d visit each other, he could barely remember her cold, lifeless face the night of her accident. Not even what she said to him the moment before she died, and the incessant beep of the electroencephalograph rang in his ears as the fog of her last breath stained her oxygen mask.
And that was it.
This is it. She said.
His pale-faced mentor lay in the other bed. The both of them spoke softly to him. Telling him things they knew he wouldn’t remember.
“This is no way to die.”
“I thought I’d live longer.”
“I wanted to get married…”
“Have kids…”
“I love you…”
“…Son.”
“Not really?”
“I… can hardly remember her face anymore.”
Tifa smiled. She knew she shouldn’t have been. But now there was nothing stopping her.
The pink light of the Ferris wheel once again lit up the surface of their faces, and again through the cycle. Tifa turned to look at him. His perfect features, and his hair. His pristine, blonde hair.
He was the only one to ever touch his hair, though he never mentioned it, he didn’t want them to. His hair was his property, one of the few things that really were. Since their childhood, because of the situation, everything was shared. But there was the one thing that only one person could touch, could own.
Cloud’s own platinum blonde locks. Hard to describe, harder to run hands through.
Through her careful observations, she had learnt that Cloud was sneakier than she would have previously taken him for. The swift movements of his head and the subtle dismiss of the prying little fingers of Denzel and Marlene. Despite Cloud’s obvious dislike of their attempt to touch his hair.
She knew how he cared for it so. She noticed the various unconventional hair products on their shower floor. The more expensive anti-dandruff shampoo at the local grocery store, two different kinds of silk-and-shine conditioner, and his beloved chrysanthemum shampoo with ginger extract. Carefully chosen and bought at the street market a few towns away. She remembered how he wrinkled his nose in distaste at the apricot shampoos. He didn’t like the fruity kind.
Tifa liked to watch as Cloud avoided any tarnish to his hair whatsoever.
And she smiled when she did.
Because she was the only one who knew of his vanity. As long as nobody else noticed it, she knew that she was the one that knew him best. And she was always prepared to rub it into the older flower girl’s face. Because she was a competition. A competition that Tifa dared not to lose.
She broke out of her contemplation to look up at the Ferris wheel. She glanced over to Cloud, who was still staring up at the lights.
“Did you know that they caught the guy that stabbed her?”
Cloud stopped breathing for a second. “Really?”
“They said he had long silver hair, and manic green eyes.”
“…Hn.”
“Doesn’t that sound familiar?”
“…Yeah.”
“Apparently he was supposed to be on probation.”
“Oh.”
She didn’t really feel as though she had much of his attention. She was sure bringing up something like this would get him at least halfway interested.
So he was right after all.
He didn’t like her as much as it seemed.
Tifa looked at Cloud again, and sighed.
She whispered over to him, weary impatience hung in her voice. “When are you going to look away?”
There was a heavy pause in the air. “I can’t.”
“What?” her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion.
“I can’t.” he repeated.
She turned her head over to him. “What do you mean, ‘you can’t’?”
She heard him take a breath, and a silence followed. His eyes closed for a brief moment, and opened up again, once again letting the lights dance on the surface.
“It’s like you,” he mused. “Bright… And nice to look at.”
Tifa’s breath caught in her throat.
For the very first time that evening, he turned his head to look right at her.
His gaze held her own. “And I can’t look away.”
His eyes. His deep, crystalline blue eyes.
She had to look away. Tifa had to look away.
And when she did, Cloud looked hurt.
She couldn’t even look up at the Ferris wheel lights. It would bring too many thoughts rushing through her head.
So she did the next best thing. Look down.
This is when she noticed his wrist. His wrist had a weaved multi-colored bracelet wrapped around it.
The one she had given him for Christmas.
Cloud gave her a questioning look. “Er…”
Tifa unraveled it and stretched it out into an almost-perfect ellipse. Cloud’s mouth opened into an ‘O’. Tifa looked nervous. “Um. I sorta didn’t wanna use any of the import money… and I kinda thought that if I made something it’d be a little more thoughtful and… It’s okay if you don’t want it ‘cause I can just give it to Yuffie or something and—“
He took the bracelet out of her hands and examined it closely. Tifa watched intensely.
“I like it. Don’t worry.”
He stuffed it in his pocket.
Tifa looked unconvinced.
Tifa half-smiled to herself. So he was telling the truth.
This discovery gave her a new-found sense of courage.
She looked away in the opposite direction of him, and slipped her hand into his.
Then, she looked back at him. His lips were pursed together and his eyes were shifting.
Tifa smiled. That was his nervous look.
He looked down at their hands. “I… I have a secret.”
Tifa raised her eyebrows. “What is it?” Didn’t she already know all his secrets? Whether he was aware of that or not.
He pursed his lips again. “I like colors.”
Ah. “So that’s why you kept the bracelet.”
He looked at her, almost indignantly. “I would have anyway.”
“Yeah, in your desk drawer. I didn’t think you’d actually wear it.”
Her hand was still cupped in his, and he entwined his fingers with her own.
“But… I like it.”
Tifa squeezed tighter. “I’m glad you do.”
“And I like the Ferris wheel.”
This caught Tifa off guard. She thought it reminded him of her.
“And… I like you.”
Tifa coughed and brought her free hand up to cover her mouth.
She was shocked. And out of reflex, she asked a question she knew she shouldn’t have.
“But what about Aerith?”
“Aerith?” this time, the hurt was apparent in his eyes. “What? That’s what you’re worried about? Aerith?” There was a long pause. “You’re unbelievable.”
He pulled his hand away from hers.
Tifa became defensive. “I’m unbelievable? You’re the one I had to take care of after her death. You’re the one that kept blaming yourself for it. You’re the one that felt guilty because you couldn’t stop a maniac from slashing up half a student body into pieces! You’re the one that kept mulling over it and letting me clean up af—“
“S-stop.” He was looking straight ahead. “Please.”
She suddenly felt bad. She should have known this subject would have made him uncomfortable.
She turned her body around to face him. And he looked up to look at her.
With utmost sincerity, she apologized. “I’m sorry.” And with the courage she had left, she subtly opened up her arms.
He leaned into her, and she wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace. To her shock, he did the same, and rested his head on her shoulder. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to relax.
She stroked his hair to comfort him. Her cold fingertips running along his scalp.
And he only held tighter.
Owari
A/N: Er, I am aware that this fic is rather plotless… My apologies, ehhhhh. And I also realize it is slightly Tifa-centric. But that should be okay.
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