Thursday, October 22, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
And yes, here's chapter 5. Even though I haven't updated for a long time. Review please!
Chapter 5
Tifa sat in the hard chair, shifting uncomfortably from time to time. In the bed beside her, Cloud tossed and turned, muttering in his sleep, plagued withby troubled dreams. Wringing a soft towel in a basin of water, Tifa placed the cold compress on his forehead, placing her fingers on his neck to check his temperature once more.
“He’s still burning,” she sighed, the sound fading in to the still night air. No one heard her, nor did she get any response. Turning down the lamp, she settled herself as comfortably as she could in the hard chair, and closed her eyes.
Sleep eluded her; even a peace of mind was hard to come by. Stirring from her seat, she gazed at the familiar lines and contours of his face, brushing strands of hair out of his eyes. Her gaze drifted from his face to his arms and hands. They were arms and hands which had saved her life, many times over. Arms and hands that she wished held warmth and safety for her, instead of cold rejection.
When Vincent had found and brought him back, Cloud was semi-conscious, delirious with fever and exhaustion. She had rushed across the room and taken his arm, had helped Vincent support his dead weight. As they stumbled their way up the stairs, Vincent’s gloves, slick with melted snow, had lost their grip on Cloud, and the former SOLDIER would have tumbled down to the landing below, if Tifa had not caught him. In that single moment, with Tifa holding him, Cloud had reached out for her, murmuring her name in fuzzy recognition. In his hazy eyes and fevered touch, she had been certain that beneath his cold indifference to her, he was far from being unmoved. She only wondered why he had chosen to reject her, to keep his emotions locked away in a heart of ice.
She leant back against the head of the chair and let her vision play out across the blank ceiling; the steady rhythm of his breathing carrying her out into the realms of slumber. Tifa snapped awake, cold night air drifting across her face and creeping up the hem of her dress. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, looking over in Cloud’s direction.
Only to find his bed empty, blanket pushed to the foot of the bed. Startled, she jumped to her feet in a panic, only for her addled brain to register that there shouldn’t be a night breeze in the room. Her eyes fell on the open window, which she had most definitely closed the night before. The window was open, shutter ajar, leaving a space more than big enough to admit a full-grown man. Tifa rushed over to the sill, fearing the worst. She leant over, looking frantically down the street.
But there was nothing to be seen. The night shadows drifted on, heedless to the fear that was choking her. The moon continued to shine, casting the house into deep shadow. Tifa looked up to see a clear sky adorned with the light of stars, hundreds upon thousands of stars.
“It’s a rare night, isn’t it? Not a cloud in the skyto be seen.”
Startled, Tifa almost lost her grip and toppled over the sill. Twisting around, she saw Cloud silhouetted against the white face of the moon, sitting on the flat roof, legs swinging over the edge.
“Come on up.” Cloud looked down and smiled. “It’s not a night to be missed.”
Tifa’s mouth closed, then opened again. She could find nothing to say. There were a million things she could say. She could scold him, ask him to come down from such a dangerous perch. She could worry about him catching a cold sitting in the cold night air, wrapped up in his exhaustion. She could scowl at him, and shake her head disapprovingly . But all she could do was to smile back. The girl in her; not the mother, not the responsible woman; leapt up with an irrepressible joy, clamoring for attention.
Her smile ever widening, she climbed up onto the sill, and swung onto the slats to begin the climb to the roof. Cloud waited for her, completely casual, completely at ease with himself and her. It was at odds with her pounding heart. The girl wondered why she was being asked to join himhe asked her to join him, the mother in her spoke about irresponsibility, and the woman stuttered with wild, irrational hope.
Cloud reached a bare hand down to pull her up beside him, and she grasped it, trusting her weight to his strength. With a heave, he lifted her to the crown of the roof, and they sat companionably together, hips barely touching, her loose hair just grazing his shoulder.
“The stars are beautiful, aren’t they?” he murmured. He looked up, utterly relaxed, utterly at peace, gazing at the millions of gleaming lights in the infinite vista above them.
“Yes, they are,” Tifa agreed, and moved closer, daring herself to close the distance between them. She needn’t have feared, for Cloud’s arm looped casually around her shoulder and held her. She leaned against his shoulder, watching the soft glow of stars illuminate the lines of his face.
“Cloud? Do you think the stars can hear us?”
“I think you’ve asked me that question before,” Cloud teased.
“You didn’t answer it.”
“Well, I still don’t know. But what I do know is that we’ve fought hard enough for them. We’ve fought hard enough to deserve a little heaven for ourselves on earth,” Cloud stated, a trifle forceful.
“There’s Seventh Heaven, and it is heaven enough for me,” a warm fuzzy feeling creeping into Tifa as she thought of the children and her friends.
Cloud smiled, and nodded. “I guess so. It’s more than anyone could ask for. “
“Yeah. So much has changed, and yet so much hasn’t. I want so much, and yet I know I shouldn’t. I know I can’t.” Tifa stopped, aware that she might have said too much, afraid that she had opened her heart a sliver too wide.
“Me too. But I'm going to try, and hope for the best.” Cloud bowed his head, casting his features into shadow.
Tifa didn’t respond. Words were not the only thing that told people what another was thinking. It was one more try, and one more failure. The pain of rejection perceived or real, it didn’t matter, it touched her once again. Thrusting her feelings asideway, Tifa changed the subject, a shift so jarring that her voice hurt even her ears.
“What have you got all worked up over that you had to drive yourself so hard?” Tifa asked, peering up into his face, trying to keep the lump from her throat.
“Not telling you. Once I’ve succeeded, you’ll all see.” Cloud smiled. “It’s a surprise.” Cloud’s smile became as luminous as the stars that glittered above them.
“Alright, then. Keep your secrets. There’s can’t be any harm in that, and I trust you. Just keep an eye out for n your own health.” Tifa allowed, relieved that Cloud had simply followed her lead. “And come home to see us more often.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“Your best, Cloud?”
“Yes.” Nothing more, nothing less, simply Cloud; for that was just the way he was.
Tifa gave it up with a sigh, content to drop the subject for now.
“You’re cold,” Cloud noticed. “C’mere,” he said, wrapping his arm more tightly around her. Tifa acquiesced. Her white silken shift was indeed quite thin, and the autumn night wind could cut like a knife. Tifa nestled against his side, suffused in their shared warmth.
Moments passed, and she spoke again, slipping syllables into the silence.
“Reminds me of the nights we spent, so many years ago, all together under the stars. With Yuffie, Barret, Vincent, Cid, Red, Cait Sith…” Tifa’s voice trailed off.
“And Aerith.” Cloud put in.
“Yeah.” Tifa was hesitant. Aerith was a sensitive subject around Cloud.
Cloud didn’t seem to notice her reticence. “We’re all here at Seventh Heaven anyway. Except Red and Reeve. Maybe we’ll get them over someday.”
“Someday soon,” Tifa promised.
“Wait for me to get back, will you? I’ve got to go settle somea few things. Then I’ll be back.” Even then, a trace of excitement leaked into Cloud’s tone.
“Going? So fast? But you’re still unwell!” Tifa protested.
“I’ll take better care of myself this time. I promise. I’ll even bring some medicines along! I’ll take a the best Medkit in the whole of Gaia along, if it makes you feel better.”
Tifa sat up, reluctant to let him leave again. “Well, if you’re leaving early, you’ve got to go get some sleep.”
“You sure you don’t want to stay out here a little longer?” Cloud asked.
The words struck her as ironic. They were words that she had uttered before, requests that she had made in the darkest of days.
“We’ll have many more nights to spend talking; many more moments to share. Right now, your health’s more important.
“You’re right. There isn’t anything to worry about. We’ve got time on our hands.” Cloud had a bemused smile upon his face, as if he had expected her response. Yet, a tinge of emotion in his eyes told her that he found their exchange of words as familiar as she did, and shared her regret.
“We’d better go.” Tifa stood up, and began to clamber down the side of the house, afraid that she might change her mind, Cloud’s health a constant yet forced litany in her mind.
Tifa swung herself lithely through the window, landing with a muffled thump on the carpeted floor. Cloud followed, a bit more clumsily, nearly knocking over the shaded lamp which sat on a small table just beside the window.
“Careful.” Tifa murmured, catching the lamp and settling it back in place. “You’d better go clean yourself up. I just washed the sheets before you got back.”
“Sure.” Cloud moved towards a drawer, removing a few clothes before retreating to bathroom, leaving Tifa alone with her thoughts.
She was seated back in her chair wearing a clean nightgown when Cloud returned, wet hair plastered to his head, looking strangely awkward without his customary spikes.
“Your fever’s gone then?” Tifa asked.
“Yeah. It’s gone. I’m fine now,” Cloud reassured, slipping under the covers of his bed. “Well, then, I’m going to rest. Turn off the lamp for me, will you?”
Tifa obliged, standing up to reach over to him and depress the pad just across her. As the room fell into darkness, Tifa lingered over Cloud’s still form, watching him draw in slow, even breaths, watching his shut eyelids flicker.
“Goodnight, Cloud. I’ll see you in the morning.” There was no response. Seized with a sudden daring Tifa leant over and kissed his forehead lightly, breathing in his clean scent, her hair brushing his cheek, reveling in their closeness. Turning away, she lay down in the other bed, and surrendered herself to slumber.
When she awoke the next morning, the bed beside her lay cold and empty, sheets neatly made, with a note lying forlornly on the pillow. Grabbing it, she unfolded the creased paper.
On it, In Cloud’s distinctive small hand, were two words. Slumping back down on the bed, letting the note slide from her senseless fingers, Tifa allowed the bitter tears of loneliness to flow silently down her cheeks.
And help me review! Thanks
Chapter 5
Tifa sat in the hard chair, shifting uncomfortably from time to time. In the bed beside her, Cloud tossed and turned, muttering in his sleep, plagued withby troubled dreams. Wringing a soft towel in a basin of water, Tifa placed the cold compress on his forehead, placing her fingers on his neck to check his temperature once more.
“He’s still burning,” she sighed, the sound fading in to the still night air. No one heard her, nor did she get any response. Turning down the lamp, she settled herself as comfortably as she could in the hard chair, and closed her eyes.
Sleep eluded her; even a peace of mind was hard to come by. Stirring from her seat, she gazed at the familiar lines and contours of his face, brushing strands of hair out of his eyes. Her gaze drifted from his face to his arms and hands. They were arms and hands which had saved her life, many times over. Arms and hands that she wished held warmth and safety for her, instead of cold rejection.
When Vincent had found and brought him back, Cloud was semi-conscious, delirious with fever and exhaustion. She had rushed across the room and taken his arm, had helped Vincent support his dead weight. As they stumbled their way up the stairs, Vincent’s gloves, slick with melted snow, had lost their grip on Cloud, and the former SOLDIER would have tumbled down to the landing below, if Tifa had not caught him. In that single moment, with Tifa holding him, Cloud had reached out for her, murmuring her name in fuzzy recognition. In his hazy eyes and fevered touch, she had been certain that beneath his cold indifference to her, he was far from being unmoved. She only wondered why he had chosen to reject her, to keep his emotions locked away in a heart of ice.
She leant back against the head of the chair and let her vision play out across the blank ceiling; the steady rhythm of his breathing carrying her out into the realms of slumber. Tifa snapped awake, cold night air drifting across her face and creeping up the hem of her dress. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, looking over in Cloud’s direction.
Only to find his bed empty, blanket pushed to the foot of the bed. Startled, she jumped to her feet in a panic, only for her addled brain to register that there shouldn’t be a night breeze in the room. Her eyes fell on the open window, which she had most definitely closed the night before. The window was open, shutter ajar, leaving a space more than big enough to admit a full-grown man. Tifa rushed over to the sill, fearing the worst. She leant over, looking frantically down the street.
But there was nothing to be seen. The night shadows drifted on, heedless to the fear that was choking her. The moon continued to shine, casting the house into deep shadow. Tifa looked up to see a clear sky adorned with the light of stars, hundreds upon thousands of stars.
“It’s a rare night, isn’t it? Not a cloud in the skyto be seen.”
Startled, Tifa almost lost her grip and toppled over the sill. Twisting around, she saw Cloud silhouetted against the white face of the moon, sitting on the flat roof, legs swinging over the edge.
“Come on up.” Cloud looked down and smiled. “It’s not a night to be missed.”
Tifa’s mouth closed, then opened again. She could find nothing to say. There were a million things she could say. She could scold him, ask him to come down from such a dangerous perch. She could worry about him catching a cold sitting in the cold night air, wrapped up in his exhaustion. She could scowl at him, and shake her head disapprovingly . But all she could do was to smile back. The girl in her; not the mother, not the responsible woman; leapt up with an irrepressible joy, clamoring for attention.
Her smile ever widening, she climbed up onto the sill, and swung onto the slats to begin the climb to the roof. Cloud waited for her, completely casual, completely at ease with himself and her. It was at odds with her pounding heart. The girl wondered why she was being asked to join himhe asked her to join him, the mother in her spoke about irresponsibility, and the woman stuttered with wild, irrational hope.
Cloud reached a bare hand down to pull her up beside him, and she grasped it, trusting her weight to his strength. With a heave, he lifted her to the crown of the roof, and they sat companionably together, hips barely touching, her loose hair just grazing his shoulder.
“The stars are beautiful, aren’t they?” he murmured. He looked up, utterly relaxed, utterly at peace, gazing at the millions of gleaming lights in the infinite vista above them.
“Yes, they are,” Tifa agreed, and moved closer, daring herself to close the distance between them. She needn’t have feared, for Cloud’s arm looped casually around her shoulder and held her. She leaned against his shoulder, watching the soft glow of stars illuminate the lines of his face.
“Cloud? Do you think the stars can hear us?”
“I think you’ve asked me that question before,” Cloud teased.
“You didn’t answer it.”
“Well, I still don’t know. But what I do know is that we’ve fought hard enough for them. We’ve fought hard enough to deserve a little heaven for ourselves on earth,” Cloud stated, a trifle forceful.
“There’s Seventh Heaven, and it is heaven enough for me,” a warm fuzzy feeling creeping into Tifa as she thought of the children and her friends.
Cloud smiled, and nodded. “I guess so. It’s more than anyone could ask for. “
“Yeah. So much has changed, and yet so much hasn’t. I want so much, and yet I know I shouldn’t. I know I can’t.” Tifa stopped, aware that she might have said too much, afraid that she had opened her heart a sliver too wide.
“Me too. But I'm going to try, and hope for the best.” Cloud bowed his head, casting his features into shadow.
Tifa didn’t respond. Words were not the only thing that told people what another was thinking. It was one more try, and one more failure. The pain of rejection perceived or real, it didn’t matter, it touched her once again. Thrusting her feelings asideway, Tifa changed the subject, a shift so jarring that her voice hurt even her ears.
“What have you got all worked up over that you had to drive yourself so hard?” Tifa asked, peering up into his face, trying to keep the lump from her throat.
“Not telling you. Once I’ve succeeded, you’ll all see.” Cloud smiled. “It’s a surprise.” Cloud’s smile became as luminous as the stars that glittered above them.
“Alright, then. Keep your secrets. There’s can’t be any harm in that, and I trust you. Just keep an eye out for n your own health.” Tifa allowed, relieved that Cloud had simply followed her lead. “And come home to see us more often.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“Your best, Cloud?”
“Yes.” Nothing more, nothing less, simply Cloud; for that was just the way he was.
Tifa gave it up with a sigh, content to drop the subject for now.
“You’re cold,” Cloud noticed. “C’mere,” he said, wrapping his arm more tightly around her. Tifa acquiesced. Her white silken shift was indeed quite thin, and the autumn night wind could cut like a knife. Tifa nestled against his side, suffused in their shared warmth.
Moments passed, and she spoke again, slipping syllables into the silence.
“Reminds me of the nights we spent, so many years ago, all together under the stars. With Yuffie, Barret, Vincent, Cid, Red, Cait Sith…” Tifa’s voice trailed off.
“And Aerith.” Cloud put in.
“Yeah.” Tifa was hesitant. Aerith was a sensitive subject around Cloud.
Cloud didn’t seem to notice her reticence. “We’re all here at Seventh Heaven anyway. Except Red and Reeve. Maybe we’ll get them over someday.”
“Someday soon,” Tifa promised.
“Wait for me to get back, will you? I’ve got to go settle somea few things. Then I’ll be back.” Even then, a trace of excitement leaked into Cloud’s tone.
“Going? So fast? But you’re still unwell!” Tifa protested.
“I’ll take better care of myself this time. I promise. I’ll even bring some medicines along! I’ll take a the best Medkit in the whole of Gaia along, if it makes you feel better.”
Tifa sat up, reluctant to let him leave again. “Well, if you’re leaving early, you’ve got to go get some sleep.”
“You sure you don’t want to stay out here a little longer?” Cloud asked.
The words struck her as ironic. They were words that she had uttered before, requests that she had made in the darkest of days.
“We’ll have many more nights to spend talking; many more moments to share. Right now, your health’s more important.
“You’re right. There isn’t anything to worry about. We’ve got time on our hands.” Cloud had a bemused smile upon his face, as if he had expected her response. Yet, a tinge of emotion in his eyes told her that he found their exchange of words as familiar as she did, and shared her regret.
“We’d better go.” Tifa stood up, and began to clamber down the side of the house, afraid that she might change her mind, Cloud’s health a constant yet forced litany in her mind.
Tifa swung herself lithely through the window, landing with a muffled thump on the carpeted floor. Cloud followed, a bit more clumsily, nearly knocking over the shaded lamp which sat on a small table just beside the window.
“Careful.” Tifa murmured, catching the lamp and settling it back in place. “You’d better go clean yourself up. I just washed the sheets before you got back.”
“Sure.” Cloud moved towards a drawer, removing a few clothes before retreating to bathroom, leaving Tifa alone with her thoughts.
She was seated back in her chair wearing a clean nightgown when Cloud returned, wet hair plastered to his head, looking strangely awkward without his customary spikes.
“Your fever’s gone then?” Tifa asked.
“Yeah. It’s gone. I’m fine now,” Cloud reassured, slipping under the covers of his bed. “Well, then, I’m going to rest. Turn off the lamp for me, will you?”
Tifa obliged, standing up to reach over to him and depress the pad just across her. As the room fell into darkness, Tifa lingered over Cloud’s still form, watching him draw in slow, even breaths, watching his shut eyelids flicker.
“Goodnight, Cloud. I’ll see you in the morning.” There was no response. Seized with a sudden daring Tifa leant over and kissed his forehead lightly, breathing in his clean scent, her hair brushing his cheek, reveling in their closeness. Turning away, she lay down in the other bed, and surrendered herself to slumber.
When she awoke the next morning, the bed beside her lay cold and empty, sheets neatly made, with a note lying forlornly on the pillow. Grabbing it, she unfolded the creased paper.
On it, In Cloud’s distinctive small hand, were two words. Slumping back down on the bed, letting the note slide from her senseless fingers, Tifa allowed the bitter tears of loneliness to flow silently down her cheeks.
And help me review! Thanks
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