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Entangled Souls	By : RandiLynne Category: Final Fantasy VII > Het - Male/Female Views: 1133 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
To say Tifa was preoccupied
throughout the duration of her journey to Edge would be an understatement. In
all reality, she was a zombie walking in a haze of thoughts and ideas. Concepts
of what could be flowed freely through her mind, grasping the strings of her
heart. Why did leaving feel so wrong? She was going home. Home to Seventh Heaven, where she belonged.
The place where she cared for someone else�s children and a distant man who may
never return the feelings that now seemed trivial to her. What transpired with
on her Wutaian holiday felt more real than any moment with Cloud had. Perhaps
that was because Vincent looked at her, and not through her. He kissed her
lips, and did not think of another�s touch. What
in Holy happened in Wutai?
Despite her longing to stay in the
quaint town and remain by that lovely pond until her raven hair grew silver,
she knew that such dreams were dangerous and distracted from reality. She had
to go home. Or did she? Perhaps, as much as she loved Marlene, Barret ought to
be the one caring for her. Allowing him to drop her off and take her whenever
he feels the need to pursue his own endeavors seemed to allow an easy escape
from responsibility. Maybe it was time Barret did a little growing up? This is crazy talk, Tifa. You never minded
before, what is the problem now? Well, the problem was quite obviously
those insatiable feelings she was harboring for a certain crimson-eyed man.
When she drew near the familiar
doors of Seventh Heaven, she felt her heart sink just a fraction. Rather than
being elated to be home where she would tempt Cloud into feelings he hid well,
she felt disappointed that she would not see the more obvious affection of her
latest affair. Perhaps anything she felt for Cloud came out of habit, and not
truth. It was easy to get into the rut of fawning over him as she�d done for
years. Now more than ever, she wanted to avoid falling into such
repetitiveness. It seemed Wutai was just the push she needed to find her way
out of the abyss she was quickly slipping into.
As she reached the doors, she
pressed her shoulder into one to gain entrance. The bar was deserted save for a
few customers, and she nodded toward the brunette she�d hired to handle things
while she was away. The young man greeted her with a wave and after setting her
bags beside the stairwell, she approached him.
�Hey there.
How was everything?� She asked.
�Just fine, Tifa. Nothing to worry about. If you want, I can stay until
closing so you can unpack and unwind,� he offered.
�That�d be great! Thanks. I�ll
bring down your pay before you take off and I�ll be sure to call whenever I go
out of town in the future,� she said with a smile. It was late, and having the
rest of the evening to unwind sounded blissful.
With the bar taken care of, Tifa
retired to her room upstairs to unpack and make sure Denzel and Marlene�s room
was prepared with fresh sheets and blankets. She was most apprehensive when
Cloud called to mention he was going to be back from delivery soon and thought
they should have a nice dinner to welcome the kids with. Tonight would be an
interesting, and long, night.
A world away, Vincent sat beside
the blue waters of the pond in deep thought. The gauntlet he�d finally removed
in front of Tifa lay discarded in the grass, his fingers dipped into the cold
water and twirling ripples into the surface. Strands of midnight fled over his
shoulders as he lowered his head to observe a small ant crawling through the
blades of grass, and for a moment he saw himself. How could one feel so
unimportant? He felt miniscule and useless, utterly wasted. He often
contemplated the purpose of his existence since Hojo�s experimentation, and
decided he lived only because another chose his path.
Beneath his proverbial radar, Tifa
had woven her fingers around his heart. While she had been present, he felt
that he might have some purpose in the world after all. Now that she had gone,
he felt an inexplicable sadness that enraptured his soul. Such a feeling led
him to believe that she had placed a finger on his heart like the flag of a
conquering nation set as a reminder, unbeknownst until this moment of truth. The
idea that he could feel again and perhaps, someday, love again was as foreign
and odd as a new planet. While exhilarating, this concept did have a sort of
fear drifting wildly through his mind. He knew the power within his own mind,
and all the ways he could bring harm to her if he did not heed the demons in
him.
Crimson eyes focused upon the
clarity of the pure water as it sifted over his fingers. In many ways, his
heart and perhaps his entire being were much like water. Serene
at times; clear, beautiful and refreshing. However, when the conditions
were right, water could destroy entire cities and rage storms that had
consequences simply unimaginable. For that reason, he nearly convinced himself
to live a sequestered existence here by the pond, never to be given the chance
to bring harm to such a beautiful creature as Tifa Lockhart.
Fate might have had other plans
for the gunslinger. With this half-hearted decision, Vincent lay down in the
plush grass and gazed at the stars twinkling down on him from the vast
emptiness of the sky. Though he was not normally so susceptible to exhaustion,
the last few days caught him off guard and he found his eye lids quite heavy in
the silence of the night. Before he could resist, he fell to slumber with his
cloak wrapped about his body.
Not long after falling to the
world of nightmares and dreams, his mind began to paint a colourful
world. The vividness of the dream that began had enough strength to convince
anyone that it was reality.
Vincent awoke near the pond, haunted by a red glow from the sliver of a
moon floating in the sky. He pondered the existence of such a moon, but thought
perhaps it was only an odd evening. With shaky fingers, he brushed raven hair
from his face. Something was missing, the feel of fabric across his forehead.
With the tips of his fingers, he examined the expanse of flesh and found that
the bandana had disappeared. The gauntlet was also missing, he found as he
glanced over the length of his forearm. A feeling of d�j� vu washed over him
when he realized that was precisely the appearance he�d taken on with Tifa on
the shore of the mysterious pond. In fact, a soft hand was placed against his
chest and his gaze shifted while he craned his neck, finding the fingers of
Miss Lockhart resting atop his ribs.
Much more than his bandana and gauntlet were missing. A chilled breeze
swept over him, alerting him further to the fact that he was naked from the
waist up. Apparently, if not for the blanket wrapping their hips and beyond,
they would be fully exposed to the elements. Hadn�t Tifa left? He could have
sworn she did. Was this reality? Had they fallen together as one, or was he
dreaming this world into existence?
Time did not favour him in his reverie. Tifa
began to stir, lifting her head from his chest where it lay beside her hand.
Sleepy eyes focused upward, gazing at him with admiration. She was as naked as
he was and he couldn�t help but drink her in with his eyes, as he found the
sight of her so enticing. A grin swept across her lips, igniting a slight smile
of his own.
Tifa�s hair was disheveled, reminiscent of the way a woman�s hair looks
after a roll in the�well, grass, by the looks of it.
So it was true. They had given in to desire and she had given herself to him,
and likewise. He brought his hand up, brushing the soft skin on her cheek,
feeling the coolness of her flesh as he ran his fingers into her hair.
Almost as if time had simply skipped, Vincent was gazing upon Tifa
redressed in her garments. For a moment, he was convinced that he must be
dreaming. She turned to him without a word, only a knowing smile that haunted
him in the darkest corners of his mind. He felt warm, and a quick look showed
his clothing returned. He couldn�t recall redressing, and the seconds flew by
as he tried to remember.
A simple laughter drifted through the air, along with the scent of
chocolate, of all things. Then he recalled the lotion Tifa had purchased at the
fair. Though, when he looked for her, he could not find her.
Suddenly she appeared near the thick of trees where the path back to
town broke. She was beckoning him, laughing while crooking a finger and falling
backward into the darkness of the trees. Vincent came to his feet, and began to
follow her fleeting form through the path and back into the park.
When he closed his eyes a moment, the laughter ceased and he was
suddenly just outside the inn, watching Tifa disappear through the doors. He
followed, as it was all he could do. Up the stairs with
lightning speed, and down the halls. Her image began to fade in and out,
a horrible ringing overtaking his ears. Then water. Water flooded, splashing
against his face like rain free from grey clouds.
He gasped at the cold against his skin, and a bright glow filled his
sight. He felt as if he were drowning, in water or in light, he wasn�t sure.
Tifa reached out, her form but a silhouette in the light. After a moment of
hesitation, Vincent entangled his fingers with hers, and she pulled him from
his demise. A low growl resounded, something almost like�
Almost like thunder, he thought as his eyes came open to the sky.
Several droplets of rain fell against his cheeks, flooding down and away from
his skin. For what seemed like an hour, he simply laid still on his back. The
bizarre dream had been a message, but of what he was not sure. Perhaps the
dream had something to do with the inn? That
must be it. His subconscious was reminding him he hadn�t yet checked out of
the inn. Lightning flashed somewhere in the distance, and he realized what the
light in his dream had been. How he hated when his mind floated between dreams
and reality. Confining himself to the plan of returning to the inn, Vincent
rose from the grass and took a final viewing of the pond. He could almost
picture the spot where he had lain with Tifa beneath the stars, where they had
been one in his fantasies.
When he came to the desk at the
inn, the keeper glanced at him as though he had urgent news. Vincent ignored
the strange expression and brought his key from his pocket, placing the item on
the counter.
�I�d like to check out,� he said
quietly.
�Vincent Valentine?� the woman
asked.
�Yes,� he answered, assuming she
had asked for verification.
�You must have forgotten this when
you left earlier, room service found it by the door.�
The innkeeper set a white box on
the counter, a note encasing the top of the box. Vincent observed the box,
trying to recall if he had ever seen it before. �I do not think that is mine,�
he replied.
�It has your name on it,� she
said, pointing to the top of the note where his name was certainly scribed in
feminine handwriting.
�Oh,� was all he could manage
while he took the box into his arm and nodded in excuse as he left the counter.
The only logical place to find out
what was hidden in this box was the place where this feeling first became so
bold. Vincent went to the bench where he and Tifa had sat not so long ago. The
rain had never come more than a few drops, and the clouds were thinning against
the silver light of the moon. He took a seat, holding the box in his lap for a
moment while he contemplated whether to open it or banish it from thought. Then
he decided some things are better left to fate, as it was far better in
deciding futures than any human, or even immortal.
The note was face down, and he had
to carefully remove the tape that held it in place. The short words on the face
of the paper were in Tifa�s familiar hand. He read the words as she would say
them, surprised by the fact that he could so perfectly sound out her voice in
his mind.
Vincent,
Thank you for your company. I loved every minute of the time we spent
together. Since I can�t find the words to say this, I hope that you will open
my gift and find what I meant to say.
Tifa
The letter was so much like this
raven haired martial artist. She hid her feelings inside, and with the gift,
she�d hidden them inside a plain white box. Shy as ever, but bold in ways most
could not dream to be. He folded the note and slipped it beneath the box,
peering once again at the white material.
After some time, he gently lifted
the lid from the box, finding the tissue paper covering the contents as another
layer of Tifa. Carefully, he spread the tissue out until a small painting
appeared. The painting was identical to the one he�d given her, but much
smaller in size. There were several unique points to this painting, however. In
what seemed to be black in, the Wutaian symbol of eternal loyalty rested on the
bench. Whether her loyalty was expressed in friendship, or love, he could not
be sure.
The pit of his stomach swirled, a
nervous tremor fleeing through his spine. Further down the note he had noticed
a black spot of ink. He realized now it must have something to do with the
painting. He unfolded the note, finding the symbol at the bottom as it took
shape for his eyes. The symbol of new or growing love.
Perhaps she�d used the symbols since she�d learned of his heritage. Surely she
knew that such symbols prohibited no room for interpretation. They were to be
taken as literally as the paper on which they were written. In this case, the
painting on which one was written.
He held the letter in his hand,
while keeping the painting in golden claws. If he had any doubts as to what the
symbol on the painting meant, they had fled him in a flash. She had hidden it
so well. She had not spoken a word of it, nor did she seem hindered by it when
she left. Of course, he had not been anywhere near the inn after leaving her to
her room. How could he have been so oblivious? He could read expressions, eyes,
pulses�yet he missed this? He watched the paper waver in his hands, bringing
his attention to the fact that he was shaking. This certainly threw a hitch in
his plans.
From behind him, he heard grass
folding beneath the light weight of someone�s shoes. In a slight panic, which
reason could not explain, he began to fold the note quite quickly. The tissue
was quickly folded over the small painting, keeping the contents hidden from
prying eyes. The steps grew closer, and he found the scent of orchids drifting
on the air. The fragrance was familiar, and the steps were overly confident. Not now�
Hands touched his shoulders and
weight leaned across him, black hair floating around a slender neck. �Vinnie!� exclaimed the young girl.
�Yuffie�� he said, mirroring the
pronunciation but with a tinge of sarcasm rather than excitement.
�What�cha
got there?� she asked, leaning over him further to fidget with his hands in
order to get a look at what he had hidden beneath layers of tissue.
�Must you be so nosey?� he queried
incredulously.
�Of course!� she said, almost
bragged.
�Well, please refrain just this
once,� he pleaded, though his tone would never sound the part. The words were
almost demanding, and Yuffie gave him quite the look.
�Is it from�
Tifa?� she said with a wide grin.
All at once, he knew he did not
like the way Tifa�s name rolled off Yuffie�s tongue in that question. She knew
too much, that was crystal clear. Crimson irises darted, focusing on anything
but the girl hanging over him like a child trying to peek at things forbidden.
There would be no avoiding her; she was somewhat like a likable disease.
�What do you know of it?� he
asked, keeping his eyes trained on a distant tree.
�That she�s quite taken with you,�
Yuffie replied, sounding all too eloquent in a moment of rarity.
And that was all it took. The
eloquent words, the insinuation that Tifa was truly smitten with him, that the
symbols truly meant what they should�this successfully distracted him for a
fragment of a second. But that was all it took for Yuffie to pounce. She
carefully swiped a glance at the painting, and before Vincent could react, she
saw the black symbol resting over the bench.
�Aw, Vinnie!� Yuffie exclaimed, with a sickeningly happy
expression.
�Yuffie�� sometimes I want to permanently silence you.
�And to think Tifa went back to
Edge alone. So what are you gonna do?� The question was reasonable. She stood
behind him still, but he could see the wheels turning in her deviant mind
without venturing a guess.
Vincent sat unmoving as the
question sunk into the depths of his mind. In a rare moment, he felt as
vulnerable as a virgin in the Wall Market.
What am I going to do? That seems to be the question of the hour.
----------------
Well, that�s it for this chapter.
I hope you have enjoyed this bit, and I will be writing my heart out since I�ve
left off in another critical point. Thank you to those who have reviewed, and I hope that many more will do so. :)

�
- 5
- 6
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Entangled Souls