SummaryAU, Cloud x Tifa A journey into Cloud’s feminine side. Sort of Sequel to ‘Colors’. Series of drabbles.

Disclaimer: I do not own FFVII or any of its characters.

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“Mother used to wash my hair twice a day. She’d show me how to dry and brush it properly.” His legs swung freely off the edge of the rooftop. He leaned forward slightly to look at Tifa’s face passed her hair. She smiled at him. “She said that if I ever grew up to be a vain person, she would shave off all my hair.”

Tifa laughed. She figured it was best to let him do all the talking this time. It had been a while since they had a real conversation.

“I avoided mirrors as best as I could.”

It was like listening to a tape recorder. He didn’t expect her to respond to him. He just… needed to say this.

“But I found myself, instead, doing my hair at the face of a puddle, or a neighbor’s window. I wouldn’t admit it to my mother… But I was looking for my reflection.” Tifa looked into his eyes, the eyes that didn’t acknowledge her own. “I craved it.”

Their entwined fingers shook in unison with his body, as he chuckled breathlessly, light puffs of water vapor escaping into the night. She gazed at him, puzzled. What was so amusing?

“I remember when mother hit me for selling her shampoo.”

Tifa broke out into a grin, a feeling of nostalgia enveloping her. “My mother wouldn’t let me buy it off you. She knew you weren’t supposed to.”

“I offered it free to you.” He scrunched up his features half-incredulously at her.

“Our hair wasn’t that bad. Yours was just… perfect.”

Cloud only let out a skeptical grunt. And a comfortable silence followed.

“Do you remember the girl with the red hair?” Tifa hummed her confirmation, urging him to continue. “I didn’t like her hair.”

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He eyed the skinny girl’s short, red hair. Greasy and limp.

He scrunched up his face. “Gross.”

--

She gave him a common ‘You-can’t-be-serious’ look. “I heard she still lives in Nibelheim.”

“After all these years?” Cloud scratched his head. Dismissing any pondering over the girl with the disgusting hair.

“Yeah.”

Tifa drew in a relaxed breath, and let her head fall onto Cloud’s shoulder as she exhaled. They liked silence one in a while. Denzel and Marlene made enough noise for the both of them. Tifa often took note, though, that Cloud was becoming more talkative. He’d tell her stories, albeit seldom, like he just was. Stories of their childhood that she’d only remember once he’d brought them up, stories of the sorts of things that happened after sunset, after his mother would drag him home after playtime with Tifa.

He’d spill his secrets to her. His childhood secrets. Those that only Cloud and his mother knew.

Although, she always knew of Cloud’s hair-complex. She’d notice him from her kitchen. She used to always watch him do his hair from the other side of the window, unaware that he was looking at her very direction.

“Cloud,”

“Hm?”

“Why do value your hair so much?”

He had a moment to think.

“It’s the only thing I have left to remind me of my mother.”

They locked eyes, and her expression deemed unreadable.

“My real mother.”

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To be continued.

Next installment: Housewife. Cloud’s obsession with the home’s hygiene.

A/N: A series of drabbles for a little fun. I hope you enjoy them. :)

Okay, not really drabbly, but I can’t help making it a little longer than expected, haha.

Please review!