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Chapter One - The Mystic's Dream
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“Stop. Stop this.”
The man turned violently in the already tangled mass of sheets and covers. Caught in the throes of his nightmare, he had no concept of what was going on in the real world. Burying his face in the soft down of his pillow, he continued to dream, his brow creased and his mouth parted slightly. “Stop!”
The darkness was thick when the woman lying next to him awoke to the words murmured by the man’s restless body. She blinked a few times, rolling over and letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. She could see his pale face against the navy blue of the pillowcase was drenched in sweat, his long ebony hair sticking to his face in strands that put strange lines and angles on his features.
“Vincent? Vincent, wake up. You’re having a dream. WAKE UP!”
Vincent Valentine snapped out of the temporary prison of his nightmares to the sight of Yuffie Kisaragi leaning over him, her wide green eyes filled with worry for him. Instead of answering her question he detangled himself from the mess of sheets surrounding him and slid out of the bed. He paused to pull on a nearby pair of sweatpants then strode down the darkened hall. Going straight into the bathroom, he closed the door softly, but securely, behind him.
Yuffie sighed heavily, staring at the spot on the bed that he had occupied. This was the second time in a week that she had shaken him from the cold dark recesses of his nightmare world. Twice now the power of his dreams had awakened her from a deep sleep as she lay next to him.
She suddenly realized that she wasn’t sure where she was. In her fervor to wake Vincent from his sleep she hadn’t even taken in her surroundings. She took a moment to look around, blinking in the darkness. The room was sparsely decorated, the blinds shut tightly against the streetlights beyond the windows. Nothing but a wallet and a set of keys populated the dresser top, but a single picture frame stood next to the clock on the bedside table. In the frame was a picture of Yuffie smiling widely with Vincent… well he wasn’t smiling but at least he didn’t look too grouchy. Vincent’s room. I stayed with Vincent.
Sighing softly she rolled onto her stomach, her gaze once again traveling to the bedside table. The clock read 2:19 AM in angry red letters that seemed to glare at Yuffie, casting a somewhat eerie light on the picture that stood next to it. Glaring at the clock she too rolled out of bed and had to do a bit of searching before she found her panties and a shirt.
Shivering a bit as the cold air in the hallway touched her skin; she made her way to the bathroom door and knocked lightly. “Vincent? Are you all right in there?” The sound of running water was the only response to her question. Sighing, she tried the door to find it locked. She knocked again. “Vincent, come on.”
The water stopped and Yuffie held her breath for a moment, wondering what would happen. She gently placed her ear against the door to listen. Suddenly the door was opened and Yuffie tumbled forward. Before her face could collide with the cold tiles of the bathroom floor Vincent caught her and helped her upright.
“Thanks,” she said, blushing a bit. “Bad dreams again?”
“I’m fine,” he murmured, and walked past her. He went back into the dark bedroom and slid beneath the covers of the bed, laying his head against the pillow. His back was to her.
Yuffie stood in the bedroom doorway for a minute, watching him. She briefly pondered just letting him go back to his nightmare infested sleep, but discarded the idea. “Vincent, you need to talk about this. These nightmares have been getting worse and worse and I’m afraid they’ll continue to do that until you do something about it.” She climbed into bed beside him and sat next to him, leaning over so she could see his face. “I hate seeing you this way.”
“I’m fine,” he said again, his crimson eyes closed. “Go to sleep.” He obviously didn’t want to talk about it.
Not that Yuffie cared. She was tired of him pushing this off. “No, I won’t go to sleep. Damn it, Vincent, these dreams used to be once every few months and now they’re twice and three times a week. There’s obviously something--”
“I SAID I WAS FINE,” snapped Vincent, his voice rising. His tone was sharp and angry, as if daring Yuffie to even think about arguing with him. For a moment he opened his eyes, and they seemed to glow with anger.
"Fine.” Yuffie hopped off of the bed and went to the wall, flipping on the light. She found her jeans and pulled them on, along with her socks and shoes. She wasn’t going to bother with her bra. She tossed it into her bag and grabbed her peak coat before flipping off the light. “I was just trying to HELP.” With that she slammed the bedroom door and stalked through the darkness of his apartment, heading straight for the front door. Halfway across the living room area she slammed into the coffee table, the corner of it connecting painfully with her shin. “Damn it!” she shrieked, no longer caring if he heard her. She was too angry. You try to help and they spit in your face. What the hell is with that? Kicking the coffee table, she continued her angry trip to the front door, unlocked the deadbolt and chain before wrenching it open, walking out, and slamming the door behind her. She took the stairs as fast as she could to street level and stormed out of the building and into the snowy streets.
It was December in Midgar, and more snow had fallen in the past month than in any other recorded winter. At present there was a good four or five inches on the ground, and the way it was falling forced away any doubt that it would stop anytime soon. That meant there would be very few taxis out, especially because it was so late. “Goddamn it!” cursed Yuffie. After a moment’s deliberation she readjusted her bag on her shoulder and pulled up the hood on her peak coat before starting the thirty-six-block walk back to her own apartment.
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