Final Fantasy 7. Tifa Lockhart: Journey to Midgar. | By : Nickamano Category: Final Fantasy VII > General Views: 7334 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 is created and owned by Squaresoft, now Square-Enix. Nothing here is owned by me. It was created for entertainment purposes, and I am not profiting financially from the creation and online presentation of this story. |
7. The Morning After.
Neither of them remembered having fallen asleep. Tifa didn’t even remember rolling off from their sixty-nine position. However, when she woke up, she found herself lying alongside Zangan, her head on his chest and one arm thrown across his broad, muscular torso. The both of them were still lying on the floor amongst the mass of dragged over blankets and pillows. She was cold with dried sweat coating her naked body as well as the sweat-stained bedding beneath and around them.
Tifa was also half coated with the dried residue of Zangan’s orgasm, which broke and crackled quietly whenever she moved. It was all over her breasts, across her mouth and chin and throat, in her hair. And who knew where else. He must have cum bucket loads, she found herself thinking with amusement and no small amount of personal pride.
Zangan stirred then, apparently awoken by Tifa’s slight movements. He yawned and stretched. And Tifa sat up and looked down at him.
“Oh, hell… Look at what I did to you.” He said with a groaning laugh.
And then he groaned for real, screwing his eyes shut with a grimace and laying back down, as the hangover started to make itself known. Tifa was fine, she had drunk just as much as Zangan, but her youth made her better equipped to deal with the aftereffects.
She got up and made her way naked to the front door, dragged the heavy wooden barrier open and stepped out into the dawning light. It was icy cold and everywhere was covered with morning dew but it had been a mild winter and now spring was upon them. The sun would burn off the dew within an hour.
Tifa hurried over the stream and the little waterfall just behind the cabin, where a horseshoe of a six-foot mini-cliff formed the rear of the clearing. She dipped into the eye-opening water and showered herself hurriedly in the icy spring waterfall, washing the dried cum and sweat from her all-over tingling young body.
The experience woke and refreshed her, revitalised her. And she forced herself to remain under the stream, shivering but enjoying the wake-up slap. While she relived their joyous sexual initiation from the night before. Then she remembered what day it was and that it was all about to come to an end, just as things had started to go the way she wanted.
She darted out of the water and rushed back to the cabin, fully intending to beg Zangan to stay, and also fully expecting after the previous night that it wouldn’t even be a decision to make.
However, when she stepped back inside, he was already getting dressed, and packing his hide-satchel while he baked fresh bread on the stove and scrambled some eggs and cooked some strips of the Grand Horn meat from the previous day in a shallow, flat-bottomed pan.
And it was obvious then, that even with all the events of the previous night, his intention to leave hadn’t changed after all. She had apparently been right, that it wasn’t a decision to be made, she had just got the result wrong.
She wanted to cry, to beg him not to go, to tell him she loved him, to use the previous night to accuse him of taking advantage of her, to use it as a way of keeping him with her, even if it was blackmail. Instead, she went over to the cupboard that he had cleared out to make room for the clothes he had brought for her. He had waited until she could be safely left alone, which had been the day after she had got out of bed that first time, and had hiked it over to Gongaga village and purchased a number of basic winter and summer garments for her. Though under instructions, nearly all of his selections had been variations of short-sleeved thin tops and short skirts of a variety of fabrics.
She towelled herself dry and then dressed in silence while Zangan finished packing and then dealt out their breakfast. If he could tell something was wrong, he didn’t broach the subject. They both tried to make small talk over the morning meal, but there had apparently been an unspoken rule that had somehow developed to not talk about the previous night, or about Zangan’s imminent departure.
Finally, washing up done, bed made and cabin tidied. Zangan threw on his new traveling cloak and gave Tifa a hug. She didn’t let him pull away when he tried to. And he had to gently prize himself out of her embrace and offer her one of his most charming smiles.
“I’ll see you in six months.”
“By the New Year. Not a day later!”
“I’ll be here.”
He held her at arms-length by her powerful upper arms for a long moment and drank her in one last time. Her beauty and her vulnerability. There were tears in her eyes, and he wasn’t far behind. Though it didn’t change his intent to leave.
“I couldn’t be prouder of you, Tifa.” He said with a smile.
“I love you, master.” She murmured, one of the tears trickling free of her long lashes.
He wiped the tear from her cheek and then brushed a little lock of hair back in place behind her ear. He gently stroked her cheek one last time and then took his hand away.
“I love you too, child.”
He kissed her softly of the forehead. And then turned and reached for the door.
“Six months.” She said, trying and failing to keep her voice smooth and light.
“The New Year.” He said, casting a little grin back at her from over his shoulder.
She wanted to say so much more, but instead she followed him as he stepped outside and stood in the doorway and watched him walk out of her life.
End of Part One.
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