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[Tifa -

Had to make a delivery in Junon. I'll be back in a couple of days.

- Cloud

In actuality, there was no delivery. Any amount of light investigation could have uncovered that truth. He knew it was a flimsy excuse, knew it wouldn't exactly cover all of his tracks. But it was the best he could come up with on the spur of the moment - and the spur of the moment for him, it turned out, had been when he was already outside, double checking that everything was packed and secure and that he had enough fuel to make the trip he actually planned on. Surely even a poorly thought out excuse was better than no explanation at all.

Highly unlikely, of course, considering just who the excuse had been made to. It had been four days since he had left. Four days of not answering his phone, of dodging each and every possible attempt at contact. And he was fully intent on waltzing back in as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't pulled the same disappearing act he had performed so many times in the past.

His mind might have been clearer, his thoughts and feelings finally aligning in the way he wanted them to. But at what cost? Some day, probably soon, she was going to get tired of him leaving. She was going to get so tired of it, in fact, that she wouldn't be waiting for him when he returned.]

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[Could have. Should have.

There were so many things that he could have done differently, so many other paths he should have taken. Time had passed so rapidly, until his proclamations of what would happen later, in the future, some day when peace had returned and everything was as it should be. It never paused in it's march forward, until things he had intended to do tomorrow become too many yesterday's to count. Minutes became hours, hours became days. Days became months and months became years. Until promises grew old and faded and it was too late to make good on them.]

I needed some time. [It sounded so flimsy, even as it fell from his lips. A pitiful excuse, barely formed and thought through. She deserved so much better.]

[Her gaze drops from his, and she tangles her fingers together.]

Cloud...

[How many times have they had this conversation now? Too many to count, and when she sighs, there's a definite frustration to it. Her voice has a resigned edge to it, because she's not expecting any of this to make a difference.]

If you don't want me to call, then tell me. Don't just...

[Ignore her. But she doesn't need to finish that thought. He should know that it doesn't bother her if he needs time alone, she just hates that he never tells her what he wants. And it wouldn't kill him to talk to Marlene and Denzel for just a few minutes, would it?]

[Later, when he allowed himself to think back on this exact moment, he would realize the actions he took next were done completely without thought, without any sound reasoning. They were solely reactive, purely instinctive.

It was the only real explanation for why leather clad fingers were reaching out, worn tips cupping her chin gently and urging it upwards, eyes searching for hers under the fall of straw colored bangs.]

I won't. [It's said quickly, a given response to unspoken words.] I won't ignore you anymore.

[Physical contact is so rare from him that she would be shocked if he'd just touched her shoulder. This, though, is surprisingly intimate, enough that her eyes widen as they meet his and her heart skips a beat. For a moment, she's very still, silent for fear of saying something wrong. Finally, she reaches for his free hand hesitantly, fingers just brushing against his.

It's a relief to hear those words from him, and she exhales slowly, trying to just let herself believe it and push away the doubt.]

I missed you, too.

[A small smile forms across his lips, curving them upwards and sending his eyes dancing with the force of it. Fear and hesitation fall away, confidence retaking it's place at the forefront of his emotions. He had always been so sure of his welcome with her, always so secure in the knowledge that she would always take him back in, would always accept him. For a moment, brief and fleeting and terrifying, he believed perhaps he had worn it out. Perhaps he had finally stretched her patience too line and this was going to be the end of everything.

Fingers move upwards, skimming along the warmth of her cheek before pushing thick bangs away from her eyes, allowing him to look into them more clearly, to hold her attention more fully.]

I'm home. [That smile softens, just a little, taking on a hint of sadness around the edges.] I don't want to leave you anymore.

[His touch gives her the courage to take his hand, fingers lacing through his. This is far different than any of the other times he's come home, and she finds herself smiling back, relaxing into his touch even as her heart insists on fluttering in her chest. He really means it this time. He has to.]

Promise?

[Her tone is light, but she's half serious. She just needs that extra bit of comfort, that reassurance that he'll actually stay this time.]

[Breath hitches in his throat, catching painfully as the smile falls away and his eyes widen. Another promise. Another commitment. Another string of spoken words that were formed together with a certain intent, with a certain meaning. He had made her a promise once, long ago in another life, before the world had exploded and shattered into pieces around them.

And he had broken it, over and over and over again.]

I won't leave you anymore. [It's so quiet, barely above a whisper, a statement made purely for them, purely for her.]

[She didn't mean to upset him. When they'd made that promise all those years ago, it had been such an impulsive thing... She'd never expected it to weigh on him so heavily, or for him to look so taken aback now. Her smile falters, and she hesitates for just a second before leaning forward to rest her forehead lightly against his shoulder, trying to reassure him.]

Did you figure out what you needed to?

Edited 2016-02-11 03:59 (UTC)

[There was something incredibly comforting about the way she leaned against him, into him, forehead resting against the plane of his shoulder. Fingers curled into thick strands, slipping backwards towards the base of her neck, resting there for a moment before falling away.]

Yeah. [His cheek came to rest atop her head, sharp teeth sinking into the tender flesh of his bottom lip as he settled into the embrace.] I did.

[The sensation of his fingers through her hair is soothing, and while she wasn't expecting him to pull away, she certainly wasn't expecting him to reciprocate so fully, either. Tifa closes her eyes, savoring the moment for as long as she can, because this is rare, and she doesn't think it will happen again. She hums softly in response, and after a second risks slipping her free arm around him. They'll be okay. They're always okay if they stick together, aren't they?]

Good.

[She won't push him to tell her what it was. It doesn't seem to be bothering him anymore regardless.]

[Brilliant blue become hidden behind thick lashes, content in simply resting against her in the quiet peace that surrounded them. Fingers splayed out across the small of her back, the touch feather light and gentle, just enough to keep them held comfortably within the embrace.]

I thought a lot about you. [About us. But the words, simple as they may be, are lost with the next breath.]

[She shifts slightly, turning her head so that her cheek is resting against him. She wishes she could look up at him, try to read his expression, but that would mean pulling away.]

About me?

[She tries to guess at what he might mean, but nothing really seems to fit. Did he feel bad about leaving, maybe? About not answering her calls?]

[Fingers loosen their grasp as she shifts against him, fully prepared to let her go, to let her slip away from him as he always had in the past.

But then she settled back against him, cheek coming to rest against the expanse of his shoulder and the sense of peace and contentment falls back over him just as easily as it had before.]

Mm. [It's a soft sort of sound, made quietly enough for only her to hear.]

[If she pushes him, she's afraid he'll pull away from her or shut down, but she can't shake her curiosity.]

Was it... anything important?

[That gives him an out if he doesn't want to talk about it, at least.]

[Each path that had previously been so clearly and concisely laid out within his mind suddenly becomes shrouded in darkness, all of his careful contemplation and planning falling by the wayside now that it was actually a reality. Time seemed to slow, seconds turning into minutes and minutes turning to hours as he tried desperately to find the right answer, the right thing to say now that the moment had finally arrived.

It was strange to think how three letters could change everything, could cause it all to shift and become something different. Something better. It would be so easy, so simple to tell her no, to allow everything to remain as it had been. Stagnant and unyielding.]

I want things to be different.

["Different"? It's obvious now that he's not just talking about his regular disappearances. They'd already had that conversation, hadn't they?

A bit reluctantly, she pulls away enough to look up at him, her hand still in his and an arm looped loosely around his waist.]

What do you mean?

[Multiple times, in fact. And it had always ended in the same way, with him giving some flimsy excuse for a promise that it wouldn't happen anymore, that he would stop running when the weight that rested upon his shoulders finally became to much. That he would allow her to help him carry it, that he would let her in. That they would deal with things together, as a family.]

Between us. [Fingers slipped away, coming to rest gently atop her hips, intent on keeping her close but still allowing a certain amount of comfortable space to remain between them.]

[Oh.

She studies him, her eyes meeting his, desperately trying to read his expression as she ignores the way her heart is fluttering. He knows how she feels about him, doesn't he? She's certain she's made it clear, even if she's never come right out and said it. So maybe...]

What do you want to be different?

[Suddenly, she's nervous. What if she's being too optimistic about this? It could mean something entirely different. Realistically, she has no idea what he's thinking.]

Everything.

[The word fell from his lips so easily, pushing past all of his defenses and releasing into the air around them, hanging there like an anchor.]

[She lets out a breath, struck silent for a moment by the force in his voice. Words always seem to fail her around him, but, if he's saying what she thinks he is...

Hesitantly, she reaches up to brush her fingertips along his jawline. There's a part of her that's afraid that if she tries to answer, she'll say something wrong. This moment feels oddly fragile, like she could ruin it if she isn't careful.]

[Breath catches painfully in his throat, burning a searing path downwards towards his lungs, near the place where his heart beats wildly, chest twisting and releasing and twisting again. Everything within him aches, every inch of his soul screaming at him to push onward, to keep going and to never look back. To stop questioning, to stop thinking about the how's and why's and what's and to simply do.

Everything stilled in the next moment, the racing of his mind halting and the pounding of his heart quieting. Leather clad fingers ghosted over the warmth of her skin, dragging along the line of her jaw and tracing over the lines of her mouth.

And then everything was shattering, breaking apart and reforming as his lips pressed into hers, eyes falling closed and heart falling open.]

[Tifa is very still as his fingertips brush over her lips, her own breathing quickening as she waits, tense with nervousness and anticipation. She's suddenly very aware of their proximity in a way she wasn't before, aware of how close they are. She can't seem to tear her eyes from his, that bright, beautiful blue. Before she can gather her thoughts, before she can even really react, he closes the distance between them and kisses her.

Elation makes her head swim and her heart sing, and it takes no thought at all to kiss him back, leaning into him and letting her fingers slip into the spiky locks of hair at the back of his neck. For once, she's far too caught up in the moment to worry about what it might mean, or how things will change, or how they might not.]

[And then she was leaning against him, into him, worn fingers tangling in the thick strands of hair at the base of his skull. Everything, all of the worry, all of the doubt, all of the hesitation falls away as his affections are reciprocated, confidence and courage rising up to take their places.

Fingers slip backwards, cupping her jaw and caressing the sensitive skin just below her ear, each touch feather light and teasing. Even as he shifts, moving against her, easing them into something deeper and more profound, showing her just how much truth had been behind his words.]

[Those light touches make her breathing catch, and even despite the exhilaration and slight nerves, she finds herself relaxing into him. For as many times as she'd thought about kissing him, and overthought it, and argued with herself for or against it... This feels natural. Comfortable. He's her best friend, and even if she hasn't voiced it, she's been in love with him for years.

Tifa makes a soft, pleased sound as he shifts against her, her hand trailing down his back. Whatever doubts she'd had before about how much he cared about her, or if he really wanted to be with them at all have melted away, replaced with the certainty that they're going to be fine. Everything will be alright.]

[His chest tightened and his heart skipped a beat as she relaxed against him, as her hand trailed down over the expanse of his back. Whatever thoughts or ideas he may have had for this exact moment, nothing ever could have prepared him for the reality. For what it feel like to finally close the distance between them, to connect with her in a way he had never quite dared to before.

Lungs burned with the need for breath, forcing him to break that long await contact, eyes fluttering rapidly behind closed lids. Something told him that this was probably the part where he should say something, give her some sort of explanation, but he had the distinct impression that words weren't actually needed.]

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