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Candy Wrapper	By : KSipesh Category: Final Fantasy VII > Het - Male/Female Views: 1099 -:- 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.

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Disclaimer-- I don't own these characters, they belong to Square-Enix. I don't make a darn thing off of my writing, so...don't sue me. In later chapters, this story will contain sexual content. m/f. Enjoy!

Candy Wrapper
By Kristen Gupton-Williams
We�d
found him three weeks ago under that dilapidated mansion in
Nibelheim. You know I, Tifa Lockheart, grew up there, always aware of
that so-called haunted house at the edge of town. I never would have
guessed that someone was in there, or rather, under there, as the
case may be. He�d been in a box beneath the condemned building
longer than I�ve been alive. Somehow, that seems surreal, but he
was there. He was there for nearly thirty years.
And
then we found him.
He
hadn�t said much since then, he seemed fairly cryptic about things.
Hell, he was cryptic about himself all together. None of us even had
a good appreciation for what he looked like, what with that cloak
hiding half of his face all the time. And that arm�his left arm. He
kept that hidden under the red fabric as much as possible, too. Sure,
when he fought it would come out, it was a pretty decent weapon hand
to hand, but otherwise, it was out of view. Vincent just didn�t
want to be looked at, period, and after seeing the ways that the
others stared, I guess I couldn�t blame him. I, at least, tried not
to.
Everyone
would forget about him even being with us far too often, as he was
either hiding in the corner of the bridge, or on the deck of the
ship, staring over the railing at the world below. That�s Vincent--
antisocial in the greatest sense of the word.
The
others made fun of him, both when he was around and when he wasn�t.
Especially Cid. Now, I love Cid, I always have, but he can be cruel,
and I know that his little barbs got to Vincent more than he let on.
"Hey
Sunshine," Cid would start, "we�re going out to get
something to eat. It�s Italian food though, so I guess the garlic�s
a turn off for you, huh? Yeah, and they probably ain�t got no
virgins to accost in their beds there, either. I guess you ain�t
coming."
That�s
Cid. He doesn�t mean to be half as much of a jerk as he is. He�s
got a good heart, I just wish he�d let Vincent in on that little
fact. The guy could use a break.
And
that�s what I decided to give him.
I�d
noticed over the weeks that when Vincent was standing alone in the
corner, he would often pull candy bars out of his pockets and nibble
at them when he thought no one was looking. It was endearing in a
way. Here he was, some supposed former Turk assassin, trying to hide
the fact that he had a serious addiction to chocolate. That was one
of the first things that I noticed about him that the others all
failed to, so I chose to use it to my advantage.
It
was late one night, everyone else had turned in for the evening,
including Cloud, which meant that I could do whatever I wanted
without him keeping his annoyingly watchful eye on me. He wasn�t my
boyfriend, so I didn�t get why he had to act so protective over me.
It was�irritating.
In
any event, I went up to the deck of the ship in the darkness and
looked around. There, as I figured he would be, was Vincent, leaning
against the railing, staring down into the depths below. I knew that
he�d heard me come up, nothing got past him, but he didn�t turn
to look. He knew who was there, and he just didn�t seem to care.
I
walked over to him slowly, intentionally making a little noise as I
went, as I didn�t want him thinking that I was making some sort of
effort to sneak up on him. Still, he didn�t look. His eyes were
fixed out into the nothingness that surrounded the ship. His mind was
elsewhere.
When
I got to his left side, I leaned against the railing, mocking his
pose. There wasn�t anything interesting out there to look at, so I
knew that he was just thinking. He seemed to do that a lot.
I
knew better than to try verbal communication with him right off the
bat, as he wouldn�t have answered anyway, and part of me thought
he�d just turn around and leave at my intrusion.
But
I had a secret weapon at my disposal. I held out my right hand, in
which I was holding a candy bar. The same kind that I�d observed
him eating.
He
looked at my offering for a moment, and then turned his eyes to me.
It
was then that I really could appreciate the color of those eyes. They
were red, just as red as his cloak. They were like blood, and they
narrowed as he gazed at me, seeming to pose the question of �was I
teasing him with the candy or was I actually offering?�
Deciding
to give him an answer, I held it closer to him and gave him my most
non-threatening smile. "It�s for you."
His
eyes narrowed even more, and his head cocked to the side slightly.
After all of the teasing he�d been getting from the others, I
suppose he wasn�t sure if I was being serious or not. Slowly, his
right hand, that being his normal one, emerged from beneath his
cloak. It hovered for a moment between the candy bar and himself as
he continued gazing into my eyes. Then, in an instant, it closed
those last few inches, grabbed the offering, and then retreated.
He
turned back to face out into the night, while he pulled back the
wrapper. This was hidden from my view beneath his cloak, as it
involved the employing of his left hand-- something he didn�t want
anyone to watch.
Knowing
that I couldn�t just stare at him, I faced forward as well,
unwrapping the second candy bar that I�d brought for myself. I
silently proceeded to consume it, seeing out of the corner of my eye
that he was doing the same.
He
was actually going to stay next to me and have his candy. I had, in a
way, been victorious. I had made contact with something.
I
finished my would be dinner first, and stuffed the wrapper into my
pocket, knowing that I�d throw it away later.
Vincent
finished his shortly thereafter, and he absentmindedly flicked his
wrapper out over the railing.
My
reflexes are fast, and at that moment, I realized exactly how fast
they were. Before the wrapper had gone more than a few inches away
from his hand, I�d reached out and snagged it from the air, a
little surprised that I�d done so on instinct.
Vincent
turned to me, looking almost surprised.
"We�re
trying to save the world, not make it a bigger mess," I said
softly, as I shoved his wrapper into my pocket, but a different one
than had my wrapper crammed into it. I�m sentimental, I guess. I
intended to keep it and tape it onto a page in my journal. I know,
it�s sad and pathetic, but I don�t have a lot else going on.
Vincent�s
eyes betrayed something in that moment, something that his cloak hid.
He was smiling at me.
I
couldn�t help it and I reciprocated the expression. There was just
something so calm about him. It was getting to me.
His
head cocked to the side again, his eyes once more narrowing.
"Thanks."
That
was the first word he said directly to me. His voice was quiet,
brooding. It told more about his past than he could have ever known.
He was hurting, and he had been for ages. I wanted to ask what had
really happened in his life, but I knew that we were no where near
that point in our friendship. I didn�t know if we were even
friends. I wanted to be, but Vincent�well, no one knew what Vincent
thought.
"No
problem." That�s what I replied with, and I felt like an idiot
for it.
Again,
I thought I saw a smile flash through his eyes. I�d wished that
cloak were gone. It would make reading him easier-- if in fact he
could be read. Maybe he couldn�t.
He
continued to consider me for a few minutes, seemingly completely
comfortable with me there. Eventually, he turned his gaze out into
the sky around us.
"You�re
the only one, you know."
I
wasn�t sure at first if I�d actually heard those words or not.
Vincent�s voice was not something I was yet used to. I was still
looking at him. "The only one?"
Vincent
stood up straight, reminding me of the fact that he was well over ten
inches taller than I was. He turned to face me square on. "The
only one who�s made any effort to do anything in regards to me
beyond trying to piss me off."
That
was true. After seeing how Cid constantly hassled him, how Yuffie was
always trying to get her hands into his pockets, and how the other
men excluded him intentionally from their conversations, well, I knew
it was just�true.
It
made me feel bad, as though I was responsible for their actions and I
felt compelled to apologize. "I�m sorry about all of that."
"Why
should you be? You�ve done nothing," he replied, crossing his
arms over his chest beneath his cloak. The act of doing this pushed
the front of his cloak open a little, and the brass that made up his
left arm glinted in the dim light.
I
realized I was staring and Vincent did, too. Suddenly, I feared that
I might have just blown all of the progress that I�d made with him
thanks to this small lapse in tact. Inwardly, I kicked myself-- hard.
Whether
or not he was hiding behind that cloak, I instantly could tell that
he was frowning. He hastily pulled the fabric around him tighter,
covering up what had shown.
"No,
Vincent, it�s okay." I reached out and dared to slip my hand
beneath the cloak, knowing that there was a fair chance he�d pull
out his gun and fire a well-placed round into my head in the next
second or two.
To
my surprise, and maybe to his as well, he didn�t. He just looked
down where my hand disappeared under the red fabric, confounded.
Apparently, this had been the first time he�d been touched in any
social way by someone since coming out of that box.
My
hand was resting on what would have been his forearm. I had thought
it would have been cold, being metal and all, but surprisingly
enough, it was warm-- in fact, it was almost hot. I guess that made
sense. It was a machine, and they tend to warm up when running. I
found myself holding onto him and slowly, I coaxed that arm out along
with my hand, until it was extended before him.
I
met his gaze, making sure that I had permission before turning my
eyes back to his arm. Even looking at him like this was something
that I honestly felt I needed consent for.
I
brought my other hand up, cradling his would-be wrist, whilst my
other slid to the underside of his arm. It�s strange-- sometimes
there are things that you�ve seen several times in passing, but
never get to see closely and when you finally do, you realize it�s
a lot different than you�d come to expect.
It
was covered completely in that brassy metal, the only breaks in the
surface being the lines that surrounded the few access panels to the
inside, and the joints between his fingers and the underside of his
hand. Those places seemed to be made of a leathery material that
could flex with his movements.
The
fingers were graced with talons, each being about four inches long.
They were razor sharp-- that much I knew from watching him slash at
enemies on the battlefield. Yet, their curve and the narrowness of
them made them seem graceful, almost delicate. I knew better about
the latter, again after watching him fight.
Those
fingers then did something that I really hadn�t expected. They
curled downward until they were wrapped around my wrist in return. He
was staring down at our joined hands with almost as much fascination
as I was. I knew Vincent thought that no one would ever be able to
lay eyes upon this part of him without having some sort of negative
reaction, but I was there doing just that.
He
thought himself hideous and a monster.
I
thought that was the furthest thing from the truth.
Once
more, I restated what I had said earlier. "It�s okay."
I
turned my gaze up to meet his. His eyes were blank, not showing what
he was or wasn�t feeling or thinking at the moment.
I
wondered if I�d gone too far, and I asked, "Do you want me to
let go?"
Vincent
seemed to ruminate about the situation for a moment, his eyes
narrowing as I�d now seen them do several times. "No. Not
yet."
I
watched as he again brought his gaze to bear upon our hands clutching
each other�s wrists. I couldn�t help but wonder if he was
debating ripping off my hand or not. I was aware that he was capable.
"I
didn�t realize how much I can feel with it." Vincent cocked
his head to the side again.
I
stared down at our hands, not really knowing what he meant.
I
heard him exhale deeply before saying anything else. "I can
actually feel you touch me. I was aware that I had sensation from it,
but not on this level. You�re warm, I can actually feel that you�re

warm."
How
something that was hot to the touch could relay the fact that I was
in turn warm seemed strange, but then again, everything about Vincent
was strange. "Really?"
The
small sound he made said that he had almost laughed, and his eyes
told me that he was smiling. "Really."
"Oh�"
I found myself lost in those eyes of his. No one had eyes like those,
once more I was staring, but this time, he was staring right back.
We
both remained there, frozen for a while, each afraid of what to do
next. Something had just passed between us, although, I wasn�t too
sure yet of what that was.
I
found out soon enough.
Vincent
brought his right hand out and slowly reached up, pulling down the
collar to his cloak in an almost timid gesture, until his face was
revealed to me in its entirety. His lips showed no emotion at all,
but his eyes did. Vincent was looking for more of my approval. He
figured that I�d accepted his arm without any trouble, so he was
going to show me what he looked like, too.
How
he could have possessed reservations about his appearance I�ve
still never quite figured out. Those red eyes may have been unusual
but they weren�t without their beauty, and his fair complexion
stood out in stark contrast to his jet-black hair. The shape of his
face and the slight angle to his brows and eyelids hinted to the fact
that his ancestry by far wasn�t a simple one. His predecessors had
apparently been from more than one ethnicity. Vincent�s mouth was
interesting. When a thought was actively crossing his mind or when he
was upset in anyway, he kept his lips tensed, so that they were
little more than a line. When he was relaxed in mind and body,
though, they revealed that they were somewhat fuller than one would
imagine, and they weren�t pale like the rest of his complexion.
His
jaw line wasn�t overly masculine, not like Cid�s anyway.
Vincent�s face was actually rather narrow, and his nose was sharp
and straight. There was delicate quality to Vincent overall, not
feminine, but definitely gracile. Simply put, he was beautiful.
And
I was still staring. My expression was just a reflection of his own
for the time being.
Vincent
was waiting for my reaction, just as he had with his arm a short time
before.
Swallowing
my anxiety, I brought my right hand up from his arm, and I touched
his cheek. I was surprised that he closed his eyes when I made
contact, turning his head slightly so that his lips just brushed the
edge of my hand.
He
was starved for human contact after all of those years in that box
under the mansion, and he seemed resigned now to accept whatever I
was going to offer. I let my hand slowly glide away from his face,
and once I broke contact, his eyes opened again and he looked at me,
obviously waiting for something, but he was not going to be the first
to make any move. I knew him at least that well.
"Vincent?"
I asked, my voice barely audible.
His
eyes narrowed slightly as if to indicate that he would answer my
question. He leaned just the smallest bit closer to me.
"Wh�what�s
happening?" I honestly wanted to know. This was a side of
Vincent I knew no one had seen in decades, and I was at a loss. I
knew what I wanted to happen at that moment, but whether or not he
would reciprocate�
Vincent�s
gaze dropped back to where our two hands still gripped each other�s
wrists. There was a vague sense I got from him right then that
somehow, by not just knowing what he was thinking that I�d hurt him
on some level, but he wasn�t going to show it, not much, anyway.
His metal fingers gripped my wrist with just a little more force. He
wasn�t trying to hurt me, he just didn�t want me to let go. And I
didn�t want to.
I
stood there looking at him as he gazed at our hands again, his right
hand still pulling down the collar of his cloak. Then I actually saw
it for the first time. Vincent smiled, and I saw his lips make the
expression, not just his eyes.
I
couldn�t help it, and I reached up to his face once more, but this
time I placed my hand beneath his chin, guiding him to look up into
my eyes for a moment, which he obligingly did.
I
stepped closer to him, hoping that I wasn�t grievously misreading
the signals I was picking up on, or at least that I thought I
was picking up on. Our bodies were just touching then, and I guided
his metal arm around my waist and behind my back. I didn�t care if
it was artificial-- I just wanted him to hold me.
And,
to my surprise, he stayed that way and brought his face down closer
to mine. I don�t know if he closed his eyes before our lips met or
not, since I closed mine once I realized what he was actually doing.
I tilted my head back just enough to offer up my mouth, and soon, it
was in contact with his.
At
first, he just hesitated with his lips lightly against mine, still
waiting-- always waiting-- for some negative reaction at the last
moment. Someone had hurt Vincent that badly, and now he had to be
reassured at every step. Clearly, he thought this would all prove to
be some massively cruel joke at some point. I pitied him.
I
took the lead and slid my hand from beneath his chin and around to
the back of his neck, bringing him down into our kiss properly. His
lips were soft, and as they lingered upon mine, I felt him
tentatively begin to part to my mouth a few times before he actually
committed to it and the kiss deepened. Vincent was meek about
everything physical it seemed, as his tongue would gently cross over,
graze mine just the slightest bit, and then retreat momentarily.
It
was maddening. Part of me wanted to become more aggressive about it,
but I was too afraid of scaring him off. Vincent was like a wild
animal in that way. His trust had to be earned, and you had to watch
every step, lest you err and make some small trespass to which he�d
take offense. We would do it his way. That�s how it had to be.
After
our lips had been together for a few minutes, his left arm that had
gone behind my back drew me in closer to him, increasing the friction
between our two bodies. With him being as tall as he is in comparison
to me, I was enveloped by him as my two arms coiled around his narrow
waist in return. His cloak fell around me, pushing the cold from my
skin that I would have paid more attention to had I not been so rapt
up in Vincent. But I was.
Vincent
seemed to get a little braver with the kiss, and his movements became
just a little more forceful, and with the firmness that was now
pressed against my waist, I knew why. I had managed to turn Vincent
Valentine on. That was a thought that I quickly became fond of. I had
done the seemingly impossible. Not only had I gotten him to
acknowledge me, look at me, talk to me, touch me, and kiss me, but I
had him aroused.
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Candy Wrapper