Entangled Souls | By : RandiLynne Category: Final Fantasy VII > Het - Male/Female Views: 1114 -:- 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. |
Beneath the silk fabric of the
dress and the strong cage of ribs, Tifa’s heart skipped a beat as Vincent led
her down a grassy path toward a location he hadn’t yet shared. Burgundy traced down his
shoulder and arm to his fingers where they joined with her own, her pulse
spiked. This mysterious man really had taken a hold of her heart, controlling it’s rhythm effortlessly as if it belonged to him.
Judging by the way the foliage
thickened in the distance, Vincent was obviously intent on discreetness. She
wondered what could be so urgent that he felt the need to sweep her away into
darkness and away from all beings. Amid all her distraction, she found the tip
of her shoe pressed against a root that had buckled up from the earth and she
felt her balance careen. The last thing she felt like doing was stumbling and
embarrassing herself in front of him, but that was
precisely what she did. Vincent, however, was already aware of her misstep.
Before she could falter he disentangled his fingers from hers and placed his
right arm around her waist and steadied her.
Tifa swore that he read minds, body language and heart rhythm. How
anyone could be so in tune with another’s actions simply perplexed her. Without
a word, his steps resumed the previous gait, leading her into a rather secluded
area.
When the journey ended, Tifa
peered down the line of heavy trees, letting the shopping bags fall to the
ground. The timber fanned out, spread along the banks of a pond. The cerulean
waters rippled with the faint breeze that tickled through the leaves, while the
moon provided a silver lining which made the pond seem magical in her eyes. Fireflies
floated around the surface of the water, sparkling like glitter and creating
quite the aesthetic picture. This small pond in the midst of nature was quite
possibly the most beautiful scenery she had seen in her lifetime. Perhaps more bewitching than the pond itself, were the crimson eyes
fixed on her as she observed the landscape. As she turned to meet his
gaze, a smile painted upon her features with radiant charm.
“This is beautiful, Vincent.”
Tifa said, her voice soft as if speaking would awaken her from this dream she’d
stumbled into.
“I come here often to think.”
He gave a slight nod.
“I can see why.” Her smile
faded with her words, a thought coming to rest over her mind.
Not two days ago, Vincent had
been distant and their conversations usually consisted of less important
matters. Now, in all brilliance, he was sharing with her his secrets and places
important to him. This revelation made her anxious, the reasoning for his
sudden actions begging her curiosity. Vincent could see the questions in her
eyes, and for a moment he wished he could indeed read minds.
“Come, sit down.” He said,
taking a seat on a tuft of grass near the shore of the pond.
Tifa followed his actions,
again regretting her choice of attire. As she seated herself beside him, she
noticed that his fingers worked at some sort of hidden clasp beneath his golden
left arm. For a moment, she thought he might remove it, which would explain the
reason he’d brought her here to this secluded area. She watched with furrowed
brows as a golden clasp popped open with a snap.
“What are you doing?” She
asked.
“I want you to see something.”
He replied, continuing to undo hidden clasps down the under belly of the golden
metal.
With a final click, the armor
that was once believed to be an appendage slid carefully down the flesh of a
forearm. His
forearm. The space between his elbow and wrist was encased in black
fabric, his fingers bare from the knuckle down. Reflexively, he stretched the
digits and clasped them together, as if to prove they worked properly. Tifa
thought for a moment that she might squeal with excitement. Though the golden
claw was nothing intimidating to her, the idea that he had a real arm simply
thrilled her. Perhaps her selfish reasoning had to do with the idea that she
would feel the brush of flesh encompass her whenever they embraced. The gold
metal found a home on the ground beside him, and she felt like throwing it into
the pond. A sculpted brow rose, her eyes wide with astonishment as her fingers
tested the reality of the arm with mindful touch.
“Vincent…” She said, nearly
breathless, “Why haven’t you taken it off before? And in the restaurant, you
told me… you told me Hojo had reconstructed your arm that way.” The look in her
eyes betrayed her calm demeanor. The realization that he’d told her a lie,
however small, agitated her. She wanted him to feel as though he could be
completely honest with her, something she wanted everyone to feel… but
especially him.
“I know what I said. I’ve
wanted to keep this claw attached to remind me of what I was. Of what I still am.” The piercing look with which Tifa held
his gaze became overwhelming, and he averted his eyes to the blades of grass.
“And what are you, Vincent?
Please, do tell.” Her tone seemed short, almost cutting. The way she spoke
surprised even herself, but she had to be tough, less she end up a puddle of
mush crying because he thought so little of himself.
“Tifa, I am a mon—” Vincent began, but was interrupted by the touch of
fingers guiding his chin so that he had no choice but to look her in the eye.
“If you finish that word, I’ll
punch you square in the nose. I’m tired of hearing how you’re a monster and so
on,” Tifa paused, taking on a more sympathetic tone of voice, “I understand
what Hojo did to you was awful. I understand you have demons in your head. But
don’t we all? Each and every person has a demon or two whispering evil into
their soul. How else do you explain Rufus Shinra and company? They haven’t just
become evil; they were tempted and fell into that temptation.” A heavy breath
was taken, she nearly felt dizzy from the drawn out explanation. She was giving
him a good dose of tough love.
“But Tifa… these demons, they
aren’t just—” A second interruption, though this time her words caused the
rift.
“I know! They’re different, in
a sense. But, from what I’ve seen, people without your kind of demons can transform. Though they don’t become
different in appearance, their actions are more horrible than a change of face.
You seem in perfect control of these demons, and I’ve seen more patience and
reserve out of you than I’ve seen in the entire population of Edge. So just
stop with this monster nonsense. You are anything but, Vincent. You are a
beautiful, amazing human being with plenty to offer.” Sometime in her lecture,
her hands had gripped against both of his shoulders allowing her to stare into
his eyes. Her eyes pleaded her case perhaps better than her words.
“I’m immortal…” Vincent offered
the last of his argument, attempting to tear away from her hypnotizing gaze,
but failing.
“So what?
You don’t scare me, Vincent Valentine. In fact…” She lost all that power she’d
felt moments ago, her eyes trailing downward to view the greenery.
“In fact?”
Vincent pressed.
“I want…” she paused, unsure of
the proper way to express her desires, “I want to know you. I’d like to spend
more time with you. I’m afraid that I’ve… well,” Another pause was taken,
perhaps drawing suspense, “I’ve really come to like you, Vincent.” Her
confession carved a look of bewilderment across his face. He knew she’d always
been curious about him, and summed that up to curious nature and his strange
aura. That aside, he never expected her interest to be quite so concrete.
“Tifa… I…” Vincent paused as
well, and Tifa thought he might be gearing up to reject her. “I’ve always been
drawn to you.” Far from what she expected to hear, and though indirect, his
words still melted her heart.
“So does that mean I can harass
you as I please, now?” A silly smile swept across her lips, a hope that the
humor might take away the seriousness and make way for the rest of the evening
to be enjoyable. Quite simply, she didn’t want to handle so much in one night.
“I think that would be okay.”
Vincent wore a smile as well, a sight she was glad to see. He rarely did show
any emotion by way of facial expressions, but when he did she found euphoria.
“Good.” She began to move,
intent on returning to a seated position on the ground, but his arms came
around her before she could get too far.
In a wave of emotion, Tifa
found her head against his shoulder as he pulled her into his lap and embraced
her. The feeling of both arms being wrapped about her without the interruption
of the metal was astounding for her.
Vincent stroked the silk fabric
with his bare left hand, adjusting to the way it felt to touch with that hand
once again. His fingers dared to rise, brushing against her neck and up behind
her ears where he found himself absolutely taken with the way her skin felt
beneath his. It’d been decades since he’d felt another with his left, and the
experience was nothing short of heart stopping. He continued on, running his
fingers through her hair and feeling the way each strand slipped over his skin.
Tifa was completely entranced
by the way his hand explored her neck and hair, allowing the touch to send her
adrift in rapturous sensation. Shivers rocked her spine when he toyed with the
faint hairs on the back of her neck, a soft sigh released into the silence.
The feminine cry left his ears
ringing, a warmth spread over his face and desires
stirred throughout him. His eyes clamped shut while he listened to his pulse
crashing in his ears, matching the rhythm her heart had taken and dancing into
some sort of harmony. The intoxication he experienced by the simple act of
touching her was incredible, and being free of the gauntlet gave him a sense of
security. The opposite of what he’d expected to feel.
With gentle fingers, Vincent
swept long strands of dark hair over Tifa’s right shoulder, exposing her neck.
Her skin was nearly crawling with gooseflesh when his lips brushed against her
neck, kissing softly against the delicate flesh. After some time of hesitant
kisses, his touch became more fervent, even a heated nibble found its way into
his affections. When Tifa felt the sensual nip, she couldn’t stop the audible
breath that escaped. Her fingers tightened around the fabric of his cloak, and
he knew she was enjoying the tender affections.
Tifa shifted her weight,
leaning back to achieve eye contact with him. Her fingers touched against the
fabric of his bandana, strolling back beneath his hair until she found the
place where the fabric joined in a knot. She longed to see him without the
obstruction, as she had the night she found him lost in nightmares. She worked
at the knot until it came undone, finding no objection from Vincent as the red
fabric slipped loose. Quickly, she pulled the bandana away and let it float to
the grass, gazing upon him with a smile. His facial structure was nothing less
than beautiful, from his forehead to his chin. She most adored the sharp point
his nose claimed, and the pale lips beneath. As her eyes drifted over the sight
of his lips, she felt herself drawn to him. Her fingers slipped through lengths
of ebon, her lips mere inches from his as the heat rose between them. A fierce
passion overtook her as she leaned in closer, allowing her lips to crash
against his to stir a kiss.
Vincent allowed the kiss to
linger, feeling the last of his resistance fade into darkness. In the present,
he was in her hands. Men usually lost themselves under the touch of a woman,
and he was no exception. Her kiss drove him to the edge, where he found a
strange peace in the idea of becoming one with Tifa. You’re in deep, Valentine, deeper than you first assumed.
The kiss became more forceful
as he found his fingers on the verge of a clasp somewhere on the back of her
dress, brief hesitation as he realized precisely what he was planning to do. Somewhere
in the depths of his soul, the proverbial light bulb flickered on. He flexed
his fingers outward, dropping them down to the small of her back. He tenderly
parted the kiss, resting his forehead against hers while attempting to regain
what composure he could. Each exhalation swirled together between their parted
lips, breathing in unison and slowing from the exhilaration of contact.
“You… are amazing. I’ve never
met anyone like you.” Tifa lolled her head to the side, sweeping her forehead
against his while smiling brightly.
“You are truly the
extraordinary one.” Vincent trailed a finger beneath her jaw, tracing the line
all the way to her ear.
Tifa fought back a giddy smile,
nearly giggling when the compliment sunk in. Somewhere amid all the happiness,
a realization gnawed at her brain like a mouse after nesting material. She had
left Edge with the intent to visit Yuffie and since coming to Wutai, she hadn’t
spent more than a few hours with the younger woman. A feeling of betrayal
suddenly swept over Tifa, the blonde in question appearing within her
imagination. Not three days ago she dreamt of him, of healing his wounds and
finding love with him. Now she was in the arms of another, and quite
unexpectedly. Vincent caught the distraught look she wore, feeling her withdraw
from his embrace.
“Tifa?”
He called, watching as she slipped from his lap to sit on the grass beside him.
The water held her gaze, and this concerned him.
“I’m sorry; I’m just tired all
of a sudden.” Tifa inhaled a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. Hiding
such feelings from Vincent seemed strange now, but she needed more time to
reflect on this entire situation. Indecisive as it may be, she wanted to find
out where all of these emotions stemmed from.
“Would you like to return to
the inn?” He asked, politely.
“I think I
wou—” Tifa was cut off by the noisy ring that burst
forth from her phone. She’d slipped it into one of the bags earlier in the
evening, and had completely forgotten about the object until now.
She reached for the bag that
contained her chocolate lotion, searching for the vibrating phone in a rush.
Upon finding it, she answered the blocked number with a simple, “Hello?”
“Tifa…? You uh… sound funny. I wanted to remind you that I’ll be bringin’ the kids back tomorrow.” The gruff voice was
enough to tell her who was on the other line. She realized her tone sounded
odd, considering her usual cheery banter. Barret,
of course! How could I have forgotten that?
“Oh, I know! How was your
little vacation?” She asked, mentally scolding herself for forgetting the bit
of information. Had he not called, Cloud would have been alone in caring for
the children for who knows how long.
“Fine, it’s all good. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He must have been
sleepy, because his conversation was quite hasty. She let him go; hanging up
the phone and stashing it back into the bag.
Tifa felt a myriad of emotions
swell within her, sending an anxious feeling into her stomach. This experience
with Vincent had brought her to a critical point, a decision that needed to be
made. One thing was certain; she did not want to leave him here without an
understanding of where they stood. Perhaps more certain that that was the fact
that she did not want to leave him at all. Vincent watched closely as her expressions
changed, slightly amused by the way her face told her story.
“Barret?”
He asked, comforted when she finally turned to face him.
“How’d you know?” Her curiosity
returned, a brow arched in contemplation.
“I could hear him.” He gave a
slight grin, which only caused Tifa to laugh.
“He’s pretty loud.” She mused,
giving a pause to consider her next words.
“Is something wrong?” Vincent
asked, carefully moving closer to her.
“Well, Marlene and Denzel will
be back tomorrow, so I guess that means I have to get home.” She fidgeted with
the dress again, but his fingers brought an end to her nervous habits, bringing
her hand into his.
The idea made him rather
dismayed, but his expression did not betray him. He kept eye contact with her,
considering what she’d said. “Then you’ll be leaving in the morning?”
“Well, I suppose so.” She
nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze.
“Then I should walk you back to
the inn. You’ll need rest, if you are to leave.” He rose slowly to his feet,
bringing her gracefully up by their joined fingers.
“Thanks…” She smiled a
porcelain smile, reaching for the bags beside her and remembering the bag she’d
filled with a little something for him. It seemed trivial now, seeing as he
made no reference to accompanying her to Edge. Perhaps she’d have to face the
idea that he’d probably not be going with. She’d return to life as it was,
waiting on someone to care for her the way she cared for others.
Without another word, Tifa
buried her heart and began the walk back to the inn. The idea that they could
share so much of a connection and such unrestrained passion and still part ways
as if nothing had happened struck her beyond understanding. She attempted to
comfort herself with the theory that it was simply Vincent, and this happened
to be how he was. Even still, she was shaken to her very core. She hadn’t even
noticed how far ahead she had gotten while he reattached the golden claw and
recovered his bandana.
When they arrived back at the
inn, he bid her goodnight with a simple kiss on the cheek. The action tore at
her, almost insulted her, but she let it die when she retreated into her room
after a cheery smile and a hug. Any remorse was hidden deep within burgundy
eyes, and she was sure her act had fooled him. She set the bags on the bed and
seated herself on the edge of the mattress, sulking into thought.
Tomorrow would be here much
sooner than she would appreciate and she would have much to accomplish in the
morning before setting off on her way. She decided that sleep would be best,
forcing herself to wash up and change before crawling beneath the sheets.
Sleep, however, would not come easily. Her mind thrashed as her body did,
tangling the sheets into a web almost as confusing as the web her mind weaved.
She wondered why she was always on the outside looking in. Powerless
to change anything or show any emotion aside from a smile and occasionally
anger. Tomorrow would be pivotal.
The night came and left with
little slumber, and when her wake up call came, she nearly knocked the phone
off the nightstand. Tifa didn’t trouble herself with more than her usual attire
as she prepared that morning. Her garments were packed neatly back into her
suit case along with the painting and lotion from the previous evening. There
on the bed, the third bag called her attention and she gazed at it for quite
some time.
On a whim, she removed the
contents of the bag and placed them in a white box, covering the box with a
note she quickly wrote onto a thin piece of paper. One final glance around the
room led her to the conclusion that it was time to go, and she tucked the box
beneath her arm before grabbing the suit case and rolling it behind her.
As she strayed past Vincent’s
door, she walked with calculated steps. No one stirred within the inn, and she
thought it safe to place the small white box at his door. With the item in
place, she quickly hurried down the hall and to the counter where she returned
the key and checked out.
She considered paying Yuffie a
quick visit before taking off, but decided quick would not fit well with Yuffie
in this case. She’d have too many questions and Tifa didn’t have enough time to
answer them… nor did she have answers for them to begin with. She opted for a
message left, inviting the young girl to come to visit at Seventh Heaven just about
any time she felt like it. That done, Tifa began her journey back to Edge, quite unsure about what lay ahead in her life. Perhaps
Vincent would come to his senses, and perhaps not. For now, she would bury
herself in the tasks of life as she usually did.
--------
Uh oh! A little hitch in the
romance… Well, Tifa couldn’t stay in Wutai forever. I suppose that another
chapter will be in order quite quickly, considering where I ended this chapter!
Please do forgive me :D Oh, and do press that little
purple-blue button down there and review. I find inspiration in reviews, and
highly appreciate them. Also, I do hope everyone had a nice Holiday
recently… three/four day weekends are always nice :)
Another small note, I rather like the idea of the claw being more of an armor and the reasoning for which he keeps it besides the obvious battle reasons. In recent times, there have been a lot of articles talking about the outline of fingers beneath the claws and whatnot. It might be controversial, as I too used to believe it was a modification to his body, but I think it can be interpreted differently depending on context. I decided to play on the idea that it's simply a glove of sorts, and can be removed. I don't think he'll be removing it too much just yet, so no worries of sudden OOC.
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