Author: Chauni
Email: ChauniMaxwell@mechpilot.com
Website: www.oocities.org/asukalangley2nd/
Warnings: Tifa’s POV, Sap
Disclaimer: I don’t own FF7 (but I
can dream, can’t I?). Made not one dime off this, so no suing please.
Hillside
Confessions
(The Night Before Forever)
Her eyes were familiar and warm, just like the hand that held his. It was hard to believe that those glimmering orbs had been crying not more than a half an hour ago. His mouth was suddenly dry as he stared into them, losing all conscious thought for a fleeting moment. The terrors of the day had suddenly disappeared, along with the fear of the days to come. All time had stopped as his whole being was slowly devoured by those large, encompassing eyes.
A long lock of hair fell over a smooth shoulder and his hand shook as he leaned over to wipe it away, only to be denied as she did it herself. He removed his other hand from the warmth of her clutch, folding them in his lap. Her face suddenly turned upward, her flesh awash in the light of the stars and the moon and the coming meteor.
He wanted to tell her so many things; they all danced on the tip of his still tongue. He didn’t know why he was suddenly speechless. Was it the heavenly, almost angelic look she had obtained this evening as they sat upon the hill? Was it the way her pale skin seemed to glow in the obsidian darkness? Was it the way her long hair swayed in the breeze as if it were alive?
“Cloud…”
Her voice was soft, enticing. It sounded so peaceful, easing every troubled thought from his weary mind. He felt so safe with her here, so complete, for the first time in his life.
He could lose it all tomorrow. He could lose her.
“You don’t have to fight tomorrow,” he said, repeating the same phrase for the fifteenth time that night. He knew she would still go; nothing he would say could ever change her steadfast mind.
“I know.”
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to,” he muttered, his eyes flying up to the heavens.
“I don’t.”
Her answers were so short that it frightened him. Just as he was about to ask her what was troubling her, she spoke.
“Cloud…”
“Yes?”
“Are you scared?”
He thought for a long moment, this being a question he wasn’t expecting. At long last, he replied, “I’ll do what I have to do, regardless of emotion.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
He sighed. He knew when to call defeat. “Yeah. I’m a little scared.”
Her face turned toward him, a goddess walking upon earth. “I am too.” She was quiet for a moment, staring into his Mako-infused eyes, then looked back at the star littered sky. “But not for myself.”
He swallowed hard. He didn’t know if he could handle this subtle admission on top of all the stress he was currently almost overwhelmed with. Granted, the same words he thought she might confess had balanced menacingly on the tip of his own tongue, but at last minute, he had retreated. Would she do the same?
“Cloud, there was…” she trailed off
“Yes?”
“There was something I’ve been wanting to tell you, too.” A high blush began in her cheeks, slowly spreading throughout her face and down her swanlike neck.
“Yes?” His own voice sounded different, foreign, distant.
“Cloud, I -” Her eyes suddenly lit up, a bright liight flickering in the sky. “Look! A shooting star!”
He was thrown off, in awe at the irony of the situation. Meteor hung mockingly in the air but all the while, here sat this beautiful woman entranced and elated over the shooting star that just streaked across the sky, its incandescence still hanging in the air. How ironic.
His hand snaked across the grass, laying over hers. Her hands were strangely bare, no leather or metal coming between the flesh that touched. She faced him suddenly, tempting lips upturned in a genuine, innocent smile.
She seemed so happy. He wondered briefly if he looked as content as he felt. He could die tomorrow, peacefully, knowing deep in his heart what he knew staring into her eyes. No sounds ever had to pass through her full lips; as she herself once said, "Words aren't the only thing that tell people what you're thinking."
So many things were depending on tomorrow’s outcome; so many things were going to be determined on the next day. People might not live to see the following sunrise, he very well being one of those. The previous years had been ones of confusion and emptiness, personal desolation tainting everything he saw, he touched.
Yet nothing mattered in this perfect unblemished moment in time, and if tomorrow was successful, nothing ever would again. He felt unbridled hope threatening to choke him.
“Yes, Tifa. A shooting star. And it is beautiful.”