#- cloud strife's words not mine

[takemetorapture]

[minban]

' don't you ever fucking dare do that again! ' she lashes out at cloud, hands sternly gripping at his turtleneck so as to force him to regard her, to stay grounded with her in the moment, ' why do you go around foolishly risking your life?! ' mya admonishes cloud, not sparing him the violent maelstrom of her words, ' i hate it when people do that for me! i hate it when someone wants to die for me! don't you get it?! i am sick and tired of that! '

it is, of course, no fault of his that this has come to be. her father has already taught her to despise the rhetoric of "he fought for you". fuck that! she's never asked for any of that! she's never asked to wake up one day, look in the mirror, and behold part of the reason why her father is dead.

' i'm so damned tired, ' the redhead continues, ' of standing by, powerless and useless, when people i love get hurt for me! or worse, die for me! ' she does not release him from her grasp, lest he dares to turn to dust under her touch. for all that, her touch softens, open palms laid on his chest. her agitated breathing slowly begins to even. ' i forbid you to die for me, cloud strife. do you understand me? ' ( lbr this is probably when mya confessed to cloud she loves him ajshdgfg )

@furiaei / then what is a hero, if not a sacrifice?

wounds mar his skin painting pale flesh in streaks of crimson, tearing through his clothes so that he is covered in his own blood and gore. and he heals so slowly, worn down and exhuasted from the battle he had so easily thrown himself in, using his body as shield for the woman he has come to hold close to his heart, his blade a shining metalic silver that protects her from harm. yet it scarcely protects himself, as he comes out the victor with injuries as his prize and an anguish in his wake, for mya does not appreciate all that he has done for her.

and it's such a silly thing that she does not wish for harm to come to him when it is to protect her, because had she not wished for him to be her hero? had she not brought this title upon him, when he was so tired and exhausted from all that gaia has thrown at him and continues to throw at him. he is gaia's champion, and the planet continues to expect that he will be a sturdy warrior, an unshakable protector.

so cloud does not understand why mya comes to him with anger in her voice and worry in her face, distraught that he had thrown himself in front of her so easily, so willing to face unimaginable dangers, and to face those horrors alone. he does not understand, when she sees her father in him, a whispered pain that she spoke of all that time ago, of his eyes bringing back memories of the past. he thinks that maybe, her father had been her hero once, and mya has soon started to call cloud her hero as well. so what is he to do, but to follow in the footsteps of a figure mya held so dear to her heart, so that he too may be held that closely as well.

"i'm sorry," he whispers through exhaustion, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her closer so that he may slump against her. "i wanted to protect you, to keep you safe." he needs for her to be safe, so that she may be a beacon of light at the end of the road paved in crimson and corpses, someone to look forward to seeing, to holding in his arms just as he is doing now. he needs her to be that for him, just as she has placed the title of hero so gently on his crown. he wonders if she knows how heavy it weighs him down, if she knows that he has begun to drag his body around beneath that crown lest it crushes him till he is hardly but a speck of flesh on the ground.

cloud buries his face into mya's shoulders, uncaring that his skin is still slowly and painfully stitching itself back together, that he has not stopped bleeding and that he is staining her red as well. he does not wish for the anguish that she presents to him, for her to be worried enough to yell at him, to grab him and shake him until he may see reason in her words. and he gets it, he does. had their roles been reversed, then cloud would not wish for mya to put herself in harm's way for him. and yet this is not the situation at hand, and he hopes it will never be. he hopes that he will always be the one with swords piercing his flesh, with his limbs being torn piece by piece off his joints, that he will be the only one to suffer torments, so that mya will be spared the brunt of the pain.

what a shoddy hero he is, that he can not even speak to mya about promises to ease her worries, to soothe the pain that she feels now. they would all be empty promises that he would never be able to live up to, because he would die for her, he would die for her as many times as he is able to just so that she may live. he will take as much pain as he is able to endure, pain that would not be able to endure, all so that mya may live peacefully. he will not promise her a word, but he nods his head while buried in her neck, so that she may know that he has understood her. so that he will not have to speak to her instead, for he knows that no words that come out of his mouth will be ones that she wants to hear.

[pastlivesxpastlie]

♡⟡˙⋆It takes us a little higher⋆˙⟡♡

Summary: You've never been fond of your roommate Vessel, but a mortifying shared experience brings you closer than you ever thought possible.

a/n: MDNI - smut under the cut. Alternate, affectionate title is "Close the Fucking Door. Holy Shit."

roommate!vessel x fem!reader, enemies to lovers, some angst, porn with plot, accidental voyeurism, laundry day tension, vessel's favorite color seems to be emerald, reader and vessel are mean to each other, very brief slut shaming (the word "whore" is used twice derogatorily), “you’re the closest and hottest thing right now” type shit, rough sex but it’s comfort sex

No, roommates don’t have to be friends. There is no bylaw saying if you share a dwelling and the bills therein you have to be the best of friends with your housemate…but if there was, you and Vessel would be faced with a hefty fine. Where you saw the opportunity to be lighthearted, he would claim you never took anything seriously; yet when he attempted to be playful with you, you accused him of mocking you. Is this brownstone in town worth the strife? Actually, yes. Everyone has their own comfortable spaces, it’s close to everyone’s workplace, the rent is reasonable. And yet. This afternoon you’re in the little laundry room sorting things to go into the washer when you hear the heaviest sigh. “Just going to start laundry, then? No worries if anyone else needs it.” Oh, he’s grumpy today.

Vessel has his barely filled laundry basket in his long arms and impatiently drums his fingers on it. 

“Doesn’t seem like you were going to ask me. Now does it?” You nod at his laundry basket as he stammers a bit. “Just put it in with mine.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Vessel, seriously,” you snap, “you have barely anything in there. We’d be wasting water if I didn’t…”

“This is how I always do my laundry! Saying I’m the reason the water bill i–”

“JUST… put your laundry in the washer. Jesus.”

Vessel huffs and drops his laundry in like you said (or as you demanded as he would have put it). You two can hardly look at each other. He doesn’t even acknowledge you as you thank him. He shows his gratitude by switching the laundry and then sorting it once it’s dry. He does this in the living room with an inconsequential movie on. You join him for what you call “a folding paaarrttyyyyy.” This actually gets a little laugh from him. Humorless laugh, but it’s a sign of life. 

It had been a month or so of just existing in the same space since an “incident” had occurred. Neither of you brought it up but it lingered heavily between you.

𓍯𓂃

The morning of the incident you two had a civil, even thoughtful, conversation. You told Ves you’d be out that evening, maybe even all night. This delighted him. He could do some audio mixing without fear of interruption. Spread out in the living room. Oh the possibilities! He even asked who the guy was. Anything to encourage you to leave him alone for the night. Get you talking and excited about whoever the hell this poor man is so that maybe you’d get yourself all giddy and blushy and convince yourself to stay out all night. You deserve it…no wait…no. Vessel deserved it. He had to keep reminding himself he didn’t actually care. 

Except he did. The evening was actually boring. You’d only been gone an hour, and he was already thinking about going to bed. He idly wondered what you and the guy were doing. That emerald green dress you had on made it seem like you were dead set on seducing on him. The way it hugged your hips and didn’t even graze your knees. How your sheer black stockings made your legs glimmer just a bit. Vessel came to the conclusion that you actually could seduce this man without even trying…you’d just have to show up. Fuck. These weird, clouded, thoughts that flirted with being both positive and lustful rubbed Vessel the wrong way. That’s his roommate he’s thinking about. Maybe he’s just lonely.

Yes, that’s it. He’s desperate. And that feeling churns and grows to the point where he can’t ignore it anymore. He’s home alone, after all. Why not make a little “to do” about it? He dimmed his lights and slipped out of his clothes, splaying out on his bed with a little bottle of lube close by. This was something he missed. Indulging in a little fantasy and playing with himself, all while not having to wonder if someone would hear him or walk in or just make some goddamn annoying noise that would distract him. All he could hear was his ragged, raspy breaths and soft moans…and the slick pornographic sounds of his fist pumping his cock. God it was so nice to just edge a little…he really did deserve this. He tries to think of something to calm him down and dull the feeling. Your most recent argument about where the reusable grocery bags were was very helpful in this instance…except for when he remembered your little dress. How soft you looked piled in the satin. What kind of panties did you have on under that? No panty line was visible so maybe…no don’t go there. But he has to. He has to imagine what it would be like to let his fingers trail up your inner thigh to then lift your dress and see those fucking tights hugging your plush ass and maybe even how your soft thighs would expand as you sit back on your heels, your pretty eyes gazing up at him…

“Oh…fuck!”

But it wasn’t Vessel exclaiming. Why were you home? “CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR. HOLY SHIT.”

You had scurried into your room. Your cheeks hurt from your nervous grin and the blush dusting your cheeks; you feel like a little girl running from her crush. But this wasn’t innocent. You had just watched your roommate cum. The little whimpers and groans piqued your attention the second you entered the hall. You actually thought he had been crying but…good god. If there had been tears, they’d have been ones of ecstasy. The look on his face…you’ll never forget that. The way his jaw fell and his eyebrows knitted together…how his bobbing throat signaled yet another desperate moan. You had left your date way early for…reasons you’d rather not think about at the moment. You had a new problem. The image of arrogant, quiet Vessel truly enjoying himself…looking absolutely delicious…vulnerable…that wasn't leaving your mind anytime soon. And you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his abs flexed as he came…what would they feel like under your hand if you were riding him? Or against your own soft tummy while you’re on your back? Or even against your back as he spooned and fucked you while whispering filth in your ear. You stared up at the ceiling by the low light of your bedside lamp after taking care of yourself. The thrill from your momentary distraction from your bad date turns into guilt and settles in your tummy where your arousal once was.

Your mind won’t shut up. Berating you for being such a perv. And that’s when you hear Ves. Pacing. He does that sometimes. Of all the sounds you hear from sharing a wall with him, that’s the sound you’ve come to anticipate the most. How his mind reels at night. You start to ruminate, imagining that he regrets this. But it seems you finally have something in common tonight. You’re embarrassed. You’re awake. And you’re alone. Instead of nodding off, you take a chance. You reach up and knock softly on your shared wall. Just a little, “I’m right  there with you.” And as you drift off to sleep you hear two soft, timid knocks above your head.

𓍯𓂃

With the laundry folded in complete and utter silence, you sigh heavily and take your folded laundry into your room. Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you grin at the text…completely ignoring the visitor in your doorway. You don’t even look up but you speak. “I’m going out tonight.”

“Oh? Uhm. Cool.” Vessel tries to act as if he isn’t the one encroaching on your space. Too aloof to care. He certainly wasn’t feeling touch and attention starved. Not at all. That had nothing to do with why he was standing in your doorway, watching you poke at your phone. “Another date?”

“Yep. Been too long since the last one.”

Ves looks at you thoughtfully and weighs his options. Does he risk perhaps having to talk about the “close the fucking door. Holy shit” incident? Or does he continue to push you away? Continue to make you the villain in his inner monologue? He takes a deep breath, holds it, and bites the bullet. “Why did you come home so early that night?”

A long sigh escapes you. “I…got to the restaurant and, well, basically he told me I looked easy and that he liked that. So the whole evening was just…” you pause and look away. 

“He didn’t try to…like…”

“No.” You don’t mean to snap, but you did. Vessel nods, nonplussed by your tone. “No, I didn't give him a chance. Turns out I’m a whore for dressing like that and for not putting out. Such is life, yeah?” 

“Waste of an outfit, if you ask me.” You stare at Vessel for a bit. He seems angry. Tense. His legs jitter a bit and he wipes his face with a long exhale. “You should be taken out in that dress whenever you want…wherever you want.” 

You go to your closet and pull out a few dresses like your emerald and hold them up to yourself in the mirror. “Well, he’s getting a second chance tonight.”

He scoffs and crosses his arms. His height allows him to take up most of your doorframe; he secretly hopes that might keep you from leaving. From seeing that degenerate. If you just wanted to get fucked he wishes you’d just ask him. But he has to remind himself that some people need a bit more than that. He wouldn’t know the first thing about what you needed. He pleaded with himself nightly to not worry about it. It won’t work. It shouldn’t work. But damnit…you’re right there. The single hottest and closest thing. Vessel doesn't realize he’s just been staring, shaking his head with disappointment.

“Care to share or are you just being weird?” You say without looking away from the mirror.

“Why are you putting yourself through this? Hm? Do you like being treated like that?”

He purses his lips when your eyes pierce through him, getting ready to strike. “Well, not that present company can understand this but people can change and redeem themselves. Besides, what do you care?”

You’ve got him. Vessel looks down, sniffs, and shrugs. “Maybe you are a whore.” He immediately winces. That was mean…and stupid. He pushes himself off the doorframe and sulks back to his room. But you’re on his heels.

“Tell me why you care, Vessel,” you demand to his back. He won’t turn and face you. “Fucking look at me.”

With a heavy sigh, he turns, shoulders slumped…and hard as a rock. His arousal can easily be attributed to the blood rush and emotions from being angry but truth be told it’s from imaging you in those dresses you were considering. And imagining you in that green dress, letting him take you out and then have his way with you.Your eyes are boring into him with a look he’s never seen before. “Want some help?” 

He nods softly. 

“Can I get verbal consent? Jesus Christ,” you huff. 

“Yeah…yes, I’d like help.” He watches as you slip off your hoodie and kneel like you’ve done this before with him. What a sight. 

“Take your shirt off, Ves. Please.” It all feels like a dream. Vessel is standing before you, rock hard and willing. Your hands rub up his thighs… to his hips…his abs…and he actually caresses your arms when they stretch up to gently play with his nipples. After moving your hands down to remove his pants, you place soft kisses on stomach and around his happy trail. Fuck. This is living. Your arms wrap around to his back as you hold him place, making him whine softly with each kiss. It’s impossible to keep from kissing and caressing your face right below his belly button. It’s unfair how good he feels against your lips and how lovely he smells from his body wash and just…him. As toned as he is, you find a soft spot and gently bite it. You look up expecting him to have his eyes closed but he’s actually staring down at you, biting his lip. It’s too much to bear. It feels like second nature to take his cock in your mouth. You’re lost in the feeling of taking him deeper until you gag softly. When you do, he caresses your hair, asking if you’re ok. His touch is so gentle, but you’re confused when he slowly pries you off his cock and stands you up. You’re about to take off your bralette when he shakes his head and tsks. 

“I need something to hold onto, don’t I?”

You’re unable to answer as he presses a hot, messy kiss against your mouth. He’s quite literally taking your breath away as he wraps his long arms around your body and his tongue prods at your lips. He needs to taste you. He meant to not just enjoy you…but to know you. To know how you like…no…how you need to be kissed. And where you like to be kissed. It’s not enough to kiss you where “everyone wants to be kissed” like your neck and collarbone…he needs to map it out. No one will ever know this body like he does. It’s like his brain has shut down. He doesn’t remember pushing you to the bed and  lowering himself to the floor on his knees as he took off your sweats and panties. But he’s fully lucid when he, without preamble, delicately presses his tongue against your heat for the first time. The sound that comes out of you…my god. He wonders to himself if you’d ever record yourself cumming for him or even let him make a little video sometime. Better yet…he’d just have you every night. 

But that takes time and that’s what he’s doing right now. His tongue is tracing slow circles around your clit as he commits this moment to memory. The feeling of your fingers playing with his hair excites him, makes him feel giddy. He moans softly against your little sweet as he brings it into his mouth. It becomes very clear after a while that he’s chasing your orgasms along with you. 

When he pulls away, he’s  all starry eyed and a little giggly. “Oh…you are divine. Can I do more?”

All you can let out is a pathetic whimper as you catch your breath. He looms over you, wiping you off his mouth. “Can I get your verbal consent, angel?” 

“Please. Yes…please…” you get out as your core aches to feel anything from him again. 

“Look at you. You’ve got a little pulse down there, good girl.” He lets his fingers trace your throbbing clit, but there’s no relief. You whine against his touch. “Made you feel good, huh? Tell me something…how badly do you want to get fucked?”

You whimper softly and roll over onto your tummy for him. No words from you are required when Vessel whispers soft encouragements and makes sure you’re comfy before teasing your cunt one last time with his fingers. “Just put it in, Ves, please.” 

Vessel gently pops your bralette strap against your back and chuckles at your impatience. “No warm up? I didn’t think you’d be this much fun.” Your front lifts from the bed as you moan into the bed, but Vessel smooths his hand down your back.“I know….I know. Just breathe, baby. Open your legs for me a bit more.” He runs his hands along your thighs and presses them into his bed. Like he said he would, he grasps the band of your bralette with one hand as he starts to fuck you. The stretch and feeling of him stroking you from the inside makes you cry out. You realize momentarily who’s fucking you…who’s making you cum. The forbidden idea that the energy between you two could spark both anger and the most palpable lust you’ve ever felt makes you press back against him harder. “Oh there she is,” Vessel grunts out as he lands a sharp spank on your ass. And another.

“Ffffuck. Ag…again. Please.”

“You like that?” Spank. “Such a sweetheart for me.” Spank. “You feel so fucking good…” 

Your head feels fuzzy as his hands melt into your soft skin and his moans become higher pitched. More desperate. He’s saying your name. He’s cumming for you. 

𓍯𓂃

You’re getting in late from a girls night out. It’s unsurprising that the house is dark, but you can hear whatever video game Vessel is playing…and sounding like he’s about to rage quit. His back is to you as he’s hunched over on the couch.

“Ves….” A beat. “VES! Turn that down…or off, preferably,” you huff.

“Tsk yes, mum,” he says smartly, turning the game off and tossing the controller. He wants to be grumpy…but there you were, settling in his lap…in that fucking…emerald…dress. He puts his forehead to your chest and presses sweet little kisses onto it. “Welcome home, angel.”  No, roommates don’t have to be friends.

[namixart]

It Takes Two

Read on AO3!

"Whatever happens, you can't fall in love with me. Even if you think you have, it's not real."

Cloud takes Aerith's request and turns it into a challenge.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” Cloud sat down across from Aerith, and she spotted his frown through the fire burning between them. Their small camp was tucked away in a corner of the Mythril Mines, on a ledge that Cloud and Barret had deemed reasonably defensible. Still, someone needed to keep watch, and it was Aerith’s turn. With Cloud now sitting silently across from her.

Across. Not beside her. Confrontational and direct in a way Cloud usually wasn’t when he joined her during her shifts. Curious.

Aerith cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

He shot her a half-glare, as if she should’ve guessed what he was talking about from his complete lack of preamble. “You know,” he said, predictably, gesturing vaguely with his hand. Confrontational, yes. But still uncomfortable with words. That was a clue as to what he meant, at least. But she wasn’t going to bail him out of that one. Not if he couldn’t even get it out himself. It’d buy her some time, at least.

“I really don’t. You know me—I’m a talker. Can’t remember ‘em all.” She shrugged with a smile.

Cloud huffed. “Oh, I’m sure you remember this one. It’s a doozy,” he said sardonically. He closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself. “‘Whatever happens, you can’t fall in love with me. Even if you think you have, it’s not real.’” He opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Ring a bell?”

Verbatim. Even two weeks after their shared dream, two weeks of fighting and travelling and trying to change their fate, her words were burned in his memory. Just like the look on his face was burned in hers, she supposed.

Aerith let out a half giggle. “Ah. That does kinda shake a tambourine. What about it?” Stalling, stalling, stalling, buying time until she figured out what to say, what to do. He wanted an explanation, he wanted a say, he wanted the truth, and she couldn’t give it to him. The Whispers had taken it away. She didn’t know why she’d asked him that anymore, but she knew it was important. She knew it was for the best, in spite of the sheer agony it brought her to deny herself the chance to try. The chance to love him. It was important, but she didn’t know why anymore. And now Cloud would want to know.

He frowned at her. “Bullshit.”

Aerith blinked once. Twice. Furrowed her brows. “Well, that’s not very polite,” she said, forcing the airy cheer in her voice. Not what she was expecting, either. “What do you—”

Cloud shook his head. “Bullshit,” he repeated. “You can’t ask someone not to—you can’t ask me that.”

In spite of herself, Aerith cracked half a smile. There he was. Confrontational, yes, but he couldn’t say it twice. Her heart squeezed with affection for her—no, not hers. Never hers. Just Cloud.

“Why?” she asked. She’d beaten him to the punch. A well-placed why was a dangerous weapon. And, when aimed correctly at Cloud Strife, it had the power to make him swerve away from uncomfortable topics like they would burn him.

But he just frowned harder. “Because you don’t get to put that on me.”

Caught off-guard again, Aerith stared. “What?”

Cloud finally averted his eyes from her. “You can’t put that on me,” he repeated. “If you don’t feel—If you don’t want—” He gestured awkwardly between the two of them, and the flames of the campfire trembled— “then fine.”

Aerith forced a smile. This was what she wanted. It was. Distance between them. To protect him. From a threat she didn’t even know anymore. It was what she wanted. “Good. Then—”

“I’m not done.” He met her gaze again, stubborn and resolute. “You don’t get to put this on me. It takes two.”

“Huh?” Thrown off-balance again. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Aerith was supposed to be the one in control of her reactions. “What do you mean?”

Cloud crossed his arms. “I don’t get why you’d ask me that. And I doubt you’ll tell me.” He raised an eyebrow. Touché. But not for the reasons he thought. “I just know it’s got something to do with Whispers and fate and the Planet and all that.” He made a sharp, frustrated gesture in the general direction of the rest of the cave. “I know you wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important.”

“That’s right,” said Aerith, slowly. Where was he going with this?

Cloud pressed his lips together. “But you can’t put it on me. I don’t even know why it matters.”

She sighed. “Cloud—”

“It takes two,” he repeated, insistent like he was anchoring himself to those words, “so, if it’s that important, why don’t you not fall in love with me?”

“What!?” exclaimed Aerith, immediately regretting it when her voice echoed a little too loudly in the tunnels. “What?” she repeated in a whisper.

Cloud shrugged, faux-nonchalantly. “You heard me.”

“I did,” said Aerith. “But you—I... You can’t—”

He fixed her with an unimpressed look. “Oh, and you can?”

Aerith frowned. “That’s different.”

“Really.”

“Really.”

Cloud leaned forward, closer to the fire. It cast shifting shadows over his face, but the Mako glow in his eyes was steady. “Explain, then.”

She looked away. “I can’t. Not even if I wanted to. The Whispers—they took that knowledge away from me.”

He frowned again. “Then why—”

“Because I know it was important,” she said, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “I know I was trying to protect you. And that hasn’t changed. So, please—”

Cloud sighed and leaned away. “Fine. Wasn’t expecting an explanation anyway. Still. It’s real unfair of you to put it on me.”

She shot him a lopsided smile. “I’m sorry?”

Cloud shook his head. “Nah. Not good enough. Puttin’ it back on you.” He crossed his arms. “Like I said: if you care that much, you try not falling in love with me.”

Aerith felt the competitive spark tingle under her skin. “Maybe I will. Won’t.” She giggled. “You know what I mean.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Ball’s in your court.”

A beat.

She stared at him. “Wait—You don’t mean... You’re not—” He couldn’t. It had only been two weeks and she’d warned him.

He couldn’t be in love with her. He just couldn’t.

Finally, Cloud’s usual awkwardness seeped back into his eyes as he realised what she was asking, what he’d implied. “No! I–uh, I’m not. No,” he said, stubbornly looking away from Aerith. “It’s the, uh, the principle of the thing. It takes two. And I don’t see why it’s gotta be on me.”

Because someone has to be responsible here, thought Aerith, and I might not be. Not if you keep saying stuff like that.

When she didn’t reply, Cloud leaned towards her again. “Shouldn’t be a problem for you. Right?” he said, barely above a whisper. “It’s what you want.”

Aerith held his gaze. “It’s not a problem,” she lied.

Something flickered on his face. Aerith tried not to think about how it looked a lot like hurt. “Right,” he said.

She let a small beat of silence pass, then she cracked a smile. “Did we just—this a game of chicken or something?”

Cloud chuckled. “Or something.”

She pouted. “That’s so childish.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. But it takes two.” He held a hand out over the fire.

It takes two to tango, it takes two to fall in love, it takes two to make a stupid childish bet.

Aerith took his hand. “It takes two,” she agreed, gripping it tight for a moment.

Cloud nodded slowly, then shook his head. “Right. I, uh, I better let you get back to your shift.” He let her hand go and stood up. Aerith tried not to notice how he’d held onto her fingertips for just a second too long. “I, um, I’m glad we cleared that up.”

“Yeah,” said Aerith, as she watched him circle the campfire to get back to the tent. “Right. Glad.” They’d cleared nothing up, and they both knew it.

He paused. “Night, Aerith.”

She turned back to the fire. “Night, Cloud.”

After one last beat of silence, she heard the quiet rustle of fabric as he slipped inside the tent.

Then, left alone with just the crackling fire to underscore her thoughts, Aerith realised what she’d just agreed to.

“Shit,” she hissed, burying her face in her hands.

Betting Cloud she wouldn’t fall in love with him, daring herself not to get close. It was kinda like betting on a horse with a broken leg.

She was so, so screwed.

---

Despite what he’d implied during their conversation at the campfire, Cloud didn’t really act any differently around her the day after. Well, maybe there was an extra glance he’d toss her way while they were striking camp, maybe a lingering touch as he helped her up a ledge, maybe a hint of something in his voice when he spoke to her.

Or maybe it was Aerith being hyper aware of him.

For all that he’d laid bare his grievances the night before, she wasn’t really sure about his feelings or his intentions. He’d said it was a matter of principle—that it wasn’t fair of her to put the responsibility of them not becoming involved on him. He’d said the ball was in her court. He’d said he wanted a say in his feelings.

But he hadn’t actually said what his feelings were. Or what he wanted from her, from them. He’d simply rejected her request and issued a challenge, in his usual awkward fashion. Translated: I’m not going to try not falling in love with you. You do that, if you like.

Aerith could do that. Probably. She just had to ignore the burgeoning feelings in her chest. Easy. Those very feelings were totally not the reason she’d tried to engineer an unrequited love situation for herself by pushing Cloud away.

She could do it. No biggie.

Aerith was used to charmers. She knew how to skirt around their words, how not to fall for them. She was a flower seller; she was used to guys coming onto her while she was just trying to make some Gil, she was used to dodging their advances. She’d had Zack Fair. She knew how to handle charmers.

The problem was that Cloud wasn’t one.

Cloud was awkward, and sweet, and earnest, and blunt.

“You good?”

And he was walking right beside her.

“Hm-mm,” she said, linking her hands behind her back. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You, of course.” She winked, relishing in the way he cleared his throat and looked away. How Not To Get Attached 101, one hundred percent foolproof, Aerith-brand pointless flirting.

“Get real,” he muttered, shooting her a small glare. “Or have you lost the game already?”

Okay, maybe just seventy percent foolproof. Aerith giggled. “Nope. Just teasing.”

Cloud rolled his eyes. “You’re always teasing.”

“That’s me.” She winked.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “That’s you alright,” he said, letting a fond note slip into his voice.

Aerith swallowed a knot in her throat and turned away to look ahead.

Cloud wasn’t a charmer. And that was the problem.

---

“You ever feel like life is mocking you?”

Aerith couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Sometimes. Like right now.”

Cloud groaned as they both followed Naomi down the sunny streets of Costa del Sol. She and her friends wanted to see a real couple on a date, Cloud wanted to get paid, and Aerith wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed at Johnny’s and disappear. How was she supposed to keep her distance from Cloud if they kept straight-up dating?

“You don’t get to say that,” he muttered almost absentmindedly.

She winced, but he wasn’t looking at her. He didn’t seem to have noticed he’d said that out loud, so she let it slide, averting her gaze as well and frowning a little bit. For the first time in a while, she couldn’t quite read him. Was he happy about their predicament? Was he annoyed? Embarrassed? A combination of the three?

The girls had called them a couple. Aerith wished it was that simple.

She closed her eyes for a moment. If they were a couple, she could’ve reached out to the side and taken Cloud’s hand in hers, entwining their fingers as they walked. If they were a couple, maybe he’d be complaining about having an audience on their date while a cute blush coloured his cheeks. If they were a couple, she wouldn’t feel like her life was mocking her.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” said Cloud. His eyes were focused on his feet, minding his step.

Aerith swallowed a knot in her throat as she leaned close to him. “Well, you know, there’s no rule book. We can just be ourselves. Have fun just hanging out, y’know? Let ‘em think what they want about us.”

Cloud looked like he was going to argue, a spark of fire flickering in his eyes as he shot her a glance, but the resolve on his face waned just as quickly as it had arrived. Aerith bit her lip. This job was a bad idea.

But… But maybe it’d be fun to pretend, just for a while, that they could be a normal couple. That they could spend an afternoon roaming a charming seaside town together, enjoying each other’s company. Then again, the indulgence was dangerous. If she reached out and took his hand, would she let go when the day ended? Would he?

She sighed. No. Better to stick to her guns. They would have a pleasant time with the activities Naomi and the others had planned for them, and then they’d return to the rest of the group and tell them about their weird job. They’d go back to the hunt for Sephiroth and nothing would change.

Nothing would change, nothing had to change, if nothing changed he’d be safe, it was what the Aerith of the past had wanted, and that Aerith knew better than the Aerith of the present, because the Aerith of the present didn’t know anything except for the burning need to keep Cloud safe, no matter how much it ripped her heart in half, and—

A warm weight slipped into her hand, hesitant but determined. She blinked twice, hard, chasing those frantic thoughts away from her mind. She looked down at the hand holding hers, then slowly back up at Cloud, who was still resolutely facing forward despite the fact that pink dusted his cheeks.

Aerith heard herself make a small questioning noise through the fog in her brain.

Cloud shot her a glance, part plea, part glare, part challenge. “We’re on the clock, aren’t we?”

She nodded slowly, but the words stayed stuck in her throat.

He shrugged, jostling her hand. “Let’s give ‘em what they want, then.” The statement felt loaded, a little bitter, a little teasing. What the girls wanted. What about what Aerith and Cloud wanted?

“Right,” she breathed. She didn’t want to picture how dumb she looked in that moment. She felt sluggish and slow, as if she’d woken up from a deep slumber. But it was just Cloud holding her hand.

His small smile was halfway between relieved and smug, and Aerith idly thought that she kinda wanted to kiss that look off his face. Unfortunately, it would only have made him even more smug and, well, she couldn’t have that on top of losing their stupid little game.

So, she just looked ahead, at Naomi waving them over to the Run Wild stand. If Cloud tightened his hold on her hand just for a fraction of a second, she pretended not to notice.

---

“I thought you’d gone to bed.”

Cloud played a loud, startled chord on the piano as Aerith came up behind him. “Uh,” he said eloquently. “I haven’t.”

“I can tell.”

He winced, his shoulders stiffening.

She paused, biting her lip. She hadn’t expected to run into him just yet. She’d thought she’d have more time to get her feelings sorted. But there he was, in the same small Gongaga hut she’d chosen to find some shade in. It looked to be some sort of community centre, not unlike the one in the Sector 5 undercity, but it was almost empty. Just Aerith, Cloud, and a heavy blanket of unease weighing them both down.

She was supposed to be mad at him, wasn’t she?

Forget about that loser.

Hate to break it to you, but the man is dead.

Horrifically insensitive, to say the least. And very unlike him. Sometimes, it was like there was something bubbling just under his skin, something that had burst out for that one moment. Aerith had no idea why, out of all possible topics, he’d reacted that badly to Zack specifically. Or, rather, she had two ideas that maybe were the same idea, but she hated all of them.

Idea one: it was the degradation, that uncomfortable elephant in the room, that ticking clock threatening to take Cloud away from her—no, take him away from them—at any moment. For as much as they all avoided talking about it, she knew it weighed heavily on everyone, Cloud most of all. Yet, Aerith couldn’t quite shake the feeling that while, yes, something was wrong, it wasn’t degradation. It was something… different. Maybe something worse.

Idea two: it had nothing to do with Zack and everything to do with her. The thought made her stomach churn a little, in ways that she couldn’t quite identify—and she hated herself for that. For the small, selfish part of her that was, maybe, just a little happy at the thought that Cloud could’ve been jealous.

Idea both-of-them: the thought of Aerith and Zack had bothered him, but the intensity of his outburst had been amplified by the thing going on with him, degradation or otherwise.

Aerith hated all of those ideas. But she couldn’t hate him. She couldn’t even be mad.

Cloud cleared his throat, without turning around on the stool. “I, uh…”

She hummed quietly. She shifted her weight on her feet for a moment, considering. Then, slowly, she took the couple of steps needed to close the distance between them and sat down on the stool beside him. Cloud gasped quietly, then hurried to make more room for her.

Aerith took a deep breath. She didn’t look at him, just kept her gaze trained on the sheet music in front of him. It was titled Hollow. “You, uh…?”

She felt him stiffen. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him fiddle with his hands in his lap. “Shouldn’t have said that stuff.”

“No,” she said. “You shouldn’t have.” She frowned. “Why’d you say it?”

There was a long, excruciating beat of silence. “I… don’t know,” he murmured, like he was struggling to get that much sound out of his throat. “I don’t—It just came out.”

Shit. The degradation.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Aerith shook her head. “I’m not upset. Not at you, anyway.”

“You… aren’t?”

“No. Just—” She gestured vaguely with her hand. “I’m upset at things, I guess.”

He shifted slightly to turn back the pages on the sheet music. “Yeah. Me too. That’s why I came here.”

“To play?”

Cloud hummed. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d get my thoughts in order and then come find you but, well…”

Aerith giggled quietly. “But I found you first.”

He shook his head. “Yes and no. You did find me first, but…” He sighed. “Thing is, I can’t get my head on straight.” She finally looked at him. He was frowning deeply, thumbing the edge of the sheet music without really seeing the notes. “I’m trying to find a single thought that makes sense, but there are none. It’s just static.”

Aerith nodded slowly. “Wanna talk about it?”

Cloud lowered his gaze. “No point. I keep asking myself why the hell I said that, but I come up empty.” He furrowed his brows. “I never want to hurt you, no matter how ticked off I get.”

Ah. So their conversation had bothered him.

Damnit. It was idea both-of-them after all. Aerith winced.

Cloud continued, oblivious to her reaction. “I’m not stupid—I know saying shit like that’s gonna upset people. It’s just that sometimes it’s not worth the effort to spare feelings when there are more important things to do.” He shook his head. “But never with you. You’re—” He cut himself off. He sighed, looking back down at his hands. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Wish I could tell you why I said that.”

Aerith bit her lip. Slowly, she reached out and took one of Cloud’s hands in hers. “It’s okay,” she whispered.

Cloud finally looked at her, still frowning. “It’s not. I shouldn’t—”

She shook her head. “Not that. It’s okay if you can’t tell me why you said it.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer, then let it drop to his hands again. “I guess.” She could tell that he didn’t really guess, but she didn’t push it. She knew how frustrating it was to find static where information should have been in her mind. It was like that when she tried to remember what the Whispers had taken away.

Cloud sighed again, letting some of the tension leave his shoulders. Not all of it, though. “Can I ask you a question? It’s, uh, related. To—” He made a vague sweeping gesture with his free hand.

Aerith cocked her head to the side. “Shoot.”

“Zack,” he said, wincing a little. “Is he… Is he the reason why…?” He trailed off.

When he didn’t speak again, she frowned. “You’re gonna have to finish that thought, Cloud. I’m not a mind reader.”

He grimaced. “Right. Sorry. Back in Midgar, when you asked me… that.” He was blushing and refusing to meet her eye. Clearly he’d used up all his bravado when he’d quoted her request to her face and turned it back on her.  “Was that because of Zack? Because you still like him?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

He tossed her an odd look. “You don’t think so?”

“I told you. I don’t remember exactly why I asked anymore. But I remember everything about Zack.” She smiled a bit. Hard guy to forget, even after he’d disappeared, even though all in all they hadn’t spent that much time together.

She felt Cloud stiffen, and he delicately pulled his hand from hers. “I—sorry.”

Aerith furrowed her brows. “Why are you sorry?”

He winced. “I’ve been pushy. And unfair. Sorry. I won’t get in the way, I promise.” He sounded a little strangled, like it pained him to say those words out loud.

Almost in spite of herself, Aerith half-laughed. “In the way? Of me and a guy who disappeared on me five years ago?”

Cloud stared at her for a moment. “But you said—”

Aerith sighed. “It’s complicated, okay? I liked him, but then he just… vanished. I never got any closure.” She closed her eyes. “But… Cloud, our situation is complicated too.”

“Aerith, seriously, if you still—”

“That’s not it.” She didn’t know why she wasn’t taking the easy way out, why she didn’t just let him believe she still liked Zack. Maybe it was because, in spite of everything, she hated lying to him. Or maybe it was just selfishness. “Zack’s got nothing to do with you and me.” She gave his shoulder a light nudge. “Promise.”

Cloud shot her a glance. “But you’re still playing your little game.”

She half-laughed. “Your little game. And yes. Still in it.”

His shoulders slumped a bit, a mix of releasing tension and sagging dejectedly. “Getting mixed signals here.”

“I thought I was very clear in Midgar,” she said, shrugging. “You’re the one who decided not to listen to me.”

“I still think you were unfair to dump that on me.” He was pouting a little, now. Cute.

Aerith stuck her tongue out at him. “Well, you dumped it right back on me, didn’t you?”

“It takes two,” he said, without meeting her eyes.

She hummed. “It takes two.”

A moment of silence fell over the two of them. It was almost comfortable now, only slightly weighed down by the uncertainty and the stupid, stupid games they were playing. Aerith just had to keep telling herself it was better like that. She was already too close to the edge of the precipice; she couldn’t keep dancing on it. She would fall, and take Cloud right down with her. He didn’t deserve it.

He pressed his lips together, then opened his mouth to say something, and Aerith knew she had to stop him.

“I know how you can make it up to me,” she said, straightening up. “For what you said.”

Cloud blinked at her. “I thought you weren’t mad.”

She shrugged. “Maybe I am a little. But I know how you can make it up to me.” She leaned forward and tapped the sheet music. “Play me something.”

“Oh.” He looked down at the piano keys like he was seeing them for the first time. “I’m, uh… really not that good.”

Aerith clicked her tongue. “I’ll be the judge of that. C’mon, I wanna hear! I’ve heard Tifa play, it’s only fair. I have to figure out who’s better.”

There was a spark of competitiveness in his eyes, but he quickly looked away. “…Probably her,” he said, slowly like it took a toll on him to admit he wasn’t the best at something.

“Won’t know until you play. Chop chop, music man.” She grinned.

Cloud let out a breath of a laugh, then gingerly laid his hands atop the keys. As he started to play, Aerith closed her eyes and sighed.

The song was nice, slow and melancholy. He would stumble on the keys, every once in a while, and then he would play the next notes a little too loud to compensate. It wasn’t perfect, and Tifa was better, but it was still nice.

And, best of all, the music filled the air between them so that no unwelcome thoughts or words could get through. Inside the music, there was quiet and peace.

---

Aerith hadn’t known that you could see stars before the sunset.

She sucked in an excited gasp of crisp Cosmo Canyon air as she looked up at the celestial  phenomenon, clasping her hands in front of her. Cloud had told her about the bright evening star that appeared in the Nibelheim sky before all the others, before the sun had even set, but seeing stars in the violet early evening of the Canyon was still magical.

“How are you still surprised by this?” chuckled Cloud, holding the celestiograph up to his face. Well, that was what Caesar had called it, but all it was was a fancy camera. Cloud was surprisingly good with it, and was quietly proud of himself in a way that was very different from his smugness when it came to physical feats of strength or agility, but no less endearing.

Aerith huffed. “How are you not?”

He shrugged. “I thought the other one was cooler.”

“You just can’t appreciate beauty in life and nature.”

He snorted, but didn’t reply.

Aerith walked a few steps away from him, closer to the stars—infinitesimally so. She’d always known that the light fixtures in the underside of the Plate in Midgar were a sorry imitation of the real things, but she only really realised that now. The sky, the stars made her feel so small and young compared to the rest of the universe around her. A wave of emotion hit her, and she couldn’t tell which part was hers and which was the Planet’s. She brought her trembling hands together in front of her, and she closed her eyes in a silent prayer.

A quiet click came from behind her.

She straightened up. Cloud was finally satisfied with his shot composition, then. She turned around, only to find that he wasn’t looking at the sky. Both his gaze and the camera were fixed on her.

He froze like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar, and the camera chose that moment to slowly spit out the picture. She shot him a perplexed smile. He returned it, hesitant but fond. Then, again, click. Aerith giggled, shaking her head—click.

“Cloud, c’mon,” she said, half-laughing and half-scolding. “What’re you doing?”

Instead of answering, Cloud just hit the shutter button again. And again, and again, click-click-click until Aerith walked up to him and snatched the camera from his hands, with the string of printouts trailing after it. Still giggling, she held it out of his reach, knowing full well how easy it would’ve been for him to just steal it back even as he made a half-hearted attempt. “Had your fun?”

Cloud chuckled. “Yeah,” he said. “Think so.”

“Why’d you do that?” she asked, stepping away from him and taking the camera with her.

He shrugged. “Dunno. Felt like it.”

She hummed. The line burned on the tip of her tongue. Why did I do that? I was appreciating beauty. If Cloud had been a little more like her or like Zack, he would have said it. But he wasn’t. She wondered whether he’d thought of it and just chickened out, or if it hadn’t even crossed his mind. After all, it was right there. But she couldn’t quite picture him saying something that cheesy and flirty with a straight face. It just wasn’t his style. He probably thought little comments like that were insincere, empty.

Aerith smiled, remembering Costa del Sol.

They ’re just thoughts. Let ‘em be dark and ugly. You’re not. Whatever you decide, I’m with you.

Cloud didn’t do insincere. He wasn’t a charmer or a flirt. He was just himself.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, taking a couple of steps towards her.

Aerith shook her head. “Nothing, nothing.”

He held out a hand. “Can I have that back? We still got a job to do.”

“Not yet,” she said, hiding the camera behind her back with a smile. “You know, it’s not really fair.”

“What is?”

Aerith rocked on the balls of her feet. “Well, you have all these pictures of me and I have none of you.” She delicately detached the string of printouts and handed it to him.

Cloud took it, but he stiffened a little bit and scratched the back of his neck, looking away. “You, uh, want a picture of me?”

“I want a picture of us. Let’s take a selfie together,” she said, holding up the camera as she hopped to his side.

Cloud just nodded as she pressed herself even closer to him, delicately taking his arm. She shot him a smile, then looked back to the camera. Click. Cloud stilled for a moment.

Giggling, she lowered the camera to take a look at the picture. “Aww, we look—” She cut herself off when she saw it. In the photo, Aerith was slightly dishevelled from the wind, but she was smiling happily at the camera as she leaned towards Cloud. But Cloud… He was turned towards her, with soft eyes and a half smile, fond and thoughtful. She pressed her lips together as she thumbed the edge of the picture. He looked at her like he was looking at a painting, or a sunrise, or the starry night sky. He looked at her like he—

Aerith blinked twice, hard. She wondered if that was how he always looked at her when she wasn’t paying attention.

Cloud cleared his throat. “Ah, sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “I ruined it.”

But Aerith slowly shook her head. “No, no. It’s perfect,” she said. She took the printout and held it up to her chest. “Perfect.”

He turned to her, silent for a long beat. His expression was indecipherable, but at the same time he looked the way Aerith felt: uncertain, balancing on the edge of their dumb precipice. Or maybe he was waiting for her at the bottom, wondering if she would ever take that step. And she wanted to, she wanted to join him so badly.

But she couldn’t.

“Aerith…” he whispered, a plea.

She closed her eyes and turned away. “Let’s just take the picture and go,” she said. Her voice was steady, at least.

“Aerith,” he repeated a little louder, but still strained. She heard him take a hesitant step forward.

“Don’t,” she said. “Just—please, don’t.” She bit her lip, willing her heart to slow down.

“Why?”

She stilled, sucking in a sharp breath. Ah, there it was—the well-placed why used as a weapon. She’d have been proud if she didn’t feel so damn sad.

“It’s better this way,” she said. “Trust me.”

“You don’t know that,” said Cloud, frustrated. He circled around her to try and catch her eye, but she turned her face away. “Maybe you used to, but you don’t know anymore. You said it yourself.”

Aerith pressed her lips together. “Things don’t stop being true because we don’t remember them anymore.”

He crossed his arms. “But what if they were never true? What if they changed?”

She shook her head. “I’m not risking that.” I’m not risking you. “Know what hasn’t changed? Me wanting to protect you.” She attempted a smile. “And me not losing our game.” If the conditions of the game required her admitting it out loud, anyway.

Cloud regarded her for a long moment, then sighed. “I hate this game.”

She snuck a glance at him. He didn’t look all that upset—more mildly exasperated. Aerith smiled hesitantly. “It was your idea.”

“Never claimed it was a good one.”

“Well, you’re stuck with it, mister.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re stuck with it. You’re the one playing.”

Cloud was not subtle when he wanted to throw a jab at her about something. Still, Aerith let it slide. “C’mon,” she said, handing him the camera back. “Let’s finish the job.”

As he pointed the camera at the stars again, she delicately tucked their selfie into her jacket pocket, next to her heart.

---

When Aerith opened the door to her room at the Nidhogg Inn to find Cloud standing in front of her, she wasn’t all that surprised. He’d been on edge around her for a few days, always fidgeting and hesitant. Sometimes, she’d catch him just… looking at her, studying her like she was going to vanish at any moment. It was clear that he needed to talk to her. Aerith just hoped it wouldn’t be a confession of some sort. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep pretending.

“It’s kind of late,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “Something wrong?”

Cloud pressed his lips together. “Can we talk? Alone?” He shot a glance over her shoulder, to the room where Tifa and Yuffie were still asleep.

She nodded as she stepped out of the doorway. “Lucky I was the one who answered, huh?” she said with a small smile.

Cloud didn’t return it—just shot her that same long look she’d noticed in the days prior. “Let’s go,” he said. He made a jerky movement as if he’d wanted to take her by the hand and then thought better of it. Instead, he motioned for her to follow him.

Aerith hummed as he turned around and made for the stairs. He led her out of the inn, in the chilly Nibelheim night. She rubbed her hands over her bare arms. “This better be good,” she chuckled.

“Dunno about good,” he said, shooting her an apologetic glance. “But it’s important.”

She nodded. Cloud paused for a second, as if considering where to take her, then he gestured to the water tower. “C’mon.”

They climbed the ladder in silence, then sat side by side in the same spots they’d been in just hours before. It was slightly less cold up there, and Aerith realised there was some sort of machine behind them, buzzing quietly and emitting a bit of warmth.

Cloud caught her perplexed look and shrugged. “It’s the same as when I was a kid. This thing’s responsible for all the water in the village, and it overheats like crazy. Weird that it hasn’t changed.” He looked away. “Didn’t think to bring a blanket, so I figured this was the next best thing.”

Aerith smiled a bit. “It is. Thanks.”

He hummed, but didn’t say anything else.

She let a few moments pass in silence. Then, she sighed. “You know, if you just wanted some company, I don’t think you’d have taken us all the way up here. Out of earshot of everyone else.” She lightly kicked her heels together. “So, what is it?”

Cloud stiffened. “Right.” He took a deep breath, and Aerith braced herself. “I, uh, I talked to Red—Nanaki.”

She blinked at him. Not what she was expecting. “Okay?” she said. “What’d you talk about?”

He fiddled with his hands in his lap. “He asked me not to say anything, but it’s too important—a-and I guess you already know about it anyway. Besides, it’s about you, and—”

“Cloud.” She put a hand on his arm, forcing him to look at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Start over?”

“Uh, sorry.” He winced. “He said… He said that you two could see the future, back in Midgar. Before the Whispers,” he muttered. “Is that true?”

She grimaced and looked away. Why, Nanaki? “True enough,” she replied. “But I couldn’t tell you what I saw now.”

Cloud nodded. “That’s what Nanaki said too. Said that you lost that knowledge.”

“That’s right.”

“Is that why you didn’t want me to lo—like you?”

Aerith drew in a sharp breath. His words were soft, but measured, careful. He had to have rehearsed them all in those moments where he’d looked like he wanted to talk to her. She couldn’t face him.

When she didn’t reply, he continued, “Because you saw something in our future?”

Slowly, she nodded. “…Yeah.” She felt him still. “But I don’t know what it was. I told you before.”

“You have.” Cloud sighed. “Nanaki said that… He said that he thinks you’re in danger.”

Aerith kept her eyes trained on the dark silhouette of the house in front of her. “He did, did he?”

“Please don’t play dumb.” There was a strained note in his voice, now. A desperate note.

“I’m not,” she said, biting her lip. “I told you, I can’t remember. But we’re all in danger, aren’t we?”

Cloud scoffed. “You know what I mean.” He let another long moment of silence pass. “Listen… Whatever it was, we changed it, right? The Whispers—”

She shook her head. “Maybe. I don’t know. We’ve been over this, Cloud, I’m not risking it. I had a good reason for asking you that, even though I don’t remember it anymore. And now you know why.”

“What about—” He cut himself off with a frustrated noise, pulling up a leg to his chest. “So that’s how it is. You make all the decisions and I just have to follow ‘em.”

Aerith frowned. “That’s not fair.”

“No. It’s not.”

Silence fell again. Aerith fiddled with her hands in her lap. Cloud was upset, frustrated, angry even. She didn’t know how to make it better without making it infinitely worse. Without putting him even more at risk. Maybe it was better this way—the anger would be temporary, whereas whatever was waiting for him in the future she’d forgotten was a permanent scar, a pain that would never leave him.

“Hey,” he started suddenly. “If you could see the future back then… Does that mean you knew I was going to…?” He gestured vaguely between the two of them instead of finishing his question, but Aerith didn’t need him to.

Did you know I was going to fall in love with you? Were we always doomed? Was there ever a chance?

She sighed. “Dunno. Maybe that’s the future we averted.” She attempted a small smile. She didn’t even believe her own words.

And Cloud didn’t either, judging from his scoff. “Aerith.”

“What?”

“C’mon.” He looked away and whispered, so quiet that she almost missed it, “It was inevitable.”

Aerith clenched her hands on the edge of the platform. Hearing him say that should have filled her with joy. Yet, all she could feel was regret, dread, and fear. “I didn’t think you believed in fate,” she said shakily.

He tossed her a sidelong glance, then shook his head. “I don’t. Fate’s got nothing to do with it.” He took a deep breath. “It’s because of who you are and who I am.” His voice was trembling just a little.

Aerith pressed her lips together, feeling her eyes starting to sting. She knew how hard it was for him to be vulnerable like that, to lay his feelings bare and risk getting hurt for it. And she hated herself because she had to do just that—hurt him.

“Cloud—”

He shook his head. “Don’t you get it, Aerith? I can’t let anything happen to you—I won’t.” He looked at her, defiant and determined. “I promised Nanaki, and I’m promising you. I’ll keep you safe. No matter what happens, no matter what you say.”

Aerith stared at him, tears in her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around him, to hold him close, to apologise, to kiss him until all the hurt and all the fear were forgotten. But she was terrified. It was all so much, too much. She was just glad he’d never said the word love.

“Cloud,” she whispered, desperately trying to hold back the tears. “Cloud, please—”

Emboldened by her reaction, he reached out and gently touched her cheek. “It’s real. So real that it feels like I’m drowning.” He sounded like it too, quiet and strangled and tender.

She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, pulling her face away from his hand. “Cloud, I—please, don’t do this,” she whispered.

Cloud retracted his hand like he’d been burned. “I—I’m not doing anything,” he said. “I told you before. If—If you don’t feel—if it’s just me, then that’s fine. But you said that it wouldn’t be real, and you’re wrong.”

She knew. She’d always been wrong. But she couldn’t afford to be right.

Aerith shook her head again. “Cloud, what do you want me to say?”

He made another frustrated noise. “I want you to stop lying to me, I guess. Be a nice start.”

“I… I’ve never lied to you,” she said in a sigh. “Wish I had, honestly. I could’ve told you I was still in love with Zack, and we wouldn’t be here right now. But there are questions I just can’t answer.”

Cloud shot her a glance. “Because…?”

“Because I’d tell you the truth,” said Aerith. “And it’d put you in danger.”

He leaned a bit closer. “I can take care of myself. What if I was okay with that?”

“I’m not.” She bit her lip. “I’m just not.”

It was hard to breathe. She stood up suddenly, leaning a bit on the water tower so she wouldn’t lose her balance.

“Aerith?” Cloud shot to his feet as well, holding out his hands as if he wanted to steady her.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m going back.”

Cloud looked torn for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, or do something. But in the end he just nodded stiffly. “Right,” he said. “Let’s go.”

She turned around, unable to look him in the eye any longer. They made their way back to the inn in uncomfortable silence, with Cloud walking just slightly behind Aerith. Once they got to her room, she stilled with her hand hovering over the doorknob, and Cloud stopped as well.

“Aerith?” he called softly.

She shook her head and took a deep breath before turning around. “I’m sorry, Cloud,” she whispered. “I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry.” She let her gaze fall to her feet and pressed her lips together.

Cloud didn’t say anything right away. Aerith saw him shift his weight from one foot to the other, then he took a hesitant step forward. Gingerly, his arms came around her shoulders as he pulled her into a gentle hug. Aerith swallowed back a sob as she brought her hands to his waist, not quite hugging back but not pushing him away either.

“I wish I could do something to help,” he whispered in her hair. “You’re hurting too. I wanna make it go away, but… But you won’t let me.”

She shook her head, but didn’t reply. They stayed together like that for a long moment, both unwilling to be the one to either step away or bring them closer.

Aerith felt his lips brushing against her hair again. “Aerith,” he murmured. “It’s real.”

She tightened her grip on his waist, just barely, just for a moment. “I know,” she replied. “I’m sorry.”

---

Cloud hadn’t taken his eyes off her for a second, not since she’d appeared on the virtual stage of the Gold Theatre, clad in white and ready to sing. She’d felt his gaze burn like it was the sun looking at her, following her every movement, listening to her every word. And it was just as well, she figured, since it was all for him.

Aerith couldn’t give Cloud all that he wanted, but she could give him something at least. A song, a moment, a memory.

A date.

She hadn’t called it that, of course. It was just a friendly outing between friends who were friendly. She was kinda glad, actually, that the rest of their companions had also come to the showing of Loveless. Granted, they were sitting apart from Aerith and Cloud, but it helped dilute the tension. If Aerith concentrated enough, it almost felt like the two of them were just part of the group, even if a little physically far.

And if she concentrated further still, she could almost make out the voices in the Lifestream laughing at her in the back of her head. Did it still count as denial if she was self-aware about it?

Cloud linked back up with her at the exit of the theatre, after all of their friends had already left the premises. Aerith waved at him with a small smile, and he returned both.

“So!” she exclaimed, bouncing up to him. “What d’you think?”

"I think you were amazing,” he said, sounding a little dazed. “You write that song?”

Aerith hummed. “Just wanted to try my hand at it.”

He half-laughed. “Right. And now you’re gonna have producers at your doorstep.”

“Well, sadly I don’t have one of those right now.”

“A doorstep?”

“Yeah.”

“What about your mom’s place?”

Aerith giggled. “She’s gonna chase ‘em off with a broom.”

They laughed, then she smiled at him. “Thanks. I’m glad you liked it.”

He nodded slowly, then averted his gaze. Silence fell, but it was soon interrupted by the loudspeaker: “Attention, all park guests. The Skywheel will be closing soon. Don’t miss out on your chance to experience the Gold Saucer from a truly breathtaking angle!”

Oh, the Skywheel. Aerith thought vaguely that she and Cloud had never gotten to go during their first visit to the park. Things between them were still complicated, but maybe back then she could have played it off as more of a casual date. She couldn’t do that anymore: they were both in too deep and her self control was the last thin line of defence against disaster.

But she really had to stop assuming she was the only one making decisions.

Cloud, next to her, cleared his throat. “Let’s go.”

“Hm?” She turned to look at him. “Where?”

He nodded towards Event Square’s exit. “Skywheel. I wanna see what all the fuss is about. Besides, uh, we got unfinished business.” He scratched the back of his head without looking at her, but she could still see that the tips of his ears had turned pink.

Aerith felt herself soften. “Unfinished business, huh?” she said quietly.

Cloud hummed awkwardly.

She thought for a moment. There was something else she could give him. A little bit of closure wherever she could.

“Okay,” said Aerith. “Let’s go.”

He snapped back to her, as if he hadn’t expected her to give in without a fight. “Uh, yeah. Let’s.”

On the way to Skywheel square, they were quiet, but Aerith didn’t mind the silence. The air between them was charged, though, even more than usual. Maybe it was the way Cloud kept sneaking quick glances at Aerith, maybe it was the way she kept catching him because she was doing the same. More than once, she found herself desperately wanting to reach for his hand, wanting to hold him. Wanting, wanting, she wanted so much. And knowing he wanted the same things was agonising.

The crowds around them were loud and rowdy, excited, normal. More than anything, Aerith wanted to be normal. Just for a little while, she wanted to be a normal girl on a date with a boy she liked and who liked her. Was that really so wrong?

She sighed deeply.

Then, slowly, deliberately, she reached out and slipped her hand in Cloud’s. He jumped a little, startled, and turned to her, eyes wide as saucers. He didn’t pull away, though. “Aerith?”

“Just for tonight,” she heard herself whisper. “Okay?”

Emotions flashed over his face in fast succession: joy, disappointment, pain, anger, acceptance. He closed his eyes and looked to be counting to ten. “If that’s what you want,” he said. The hurt note in his voice was impossible to miss, but Aerith ignored it all the same.

It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was the best she could do. One Skywheel ride, one night, one date to get it all out of her system, and then they could go back to the way they were without having to wonder anymore. Or, at least, she prayed it would happen like that.

She smiled a bit, and he returned it, then she lightly pulled on his hand. “C’mon,” she said. “This way.”

The loudspeaker in Skywheel Square was still giving out the announcement about the ride closing soon, with an attendant eagerly waving excited guests closer. Aerith and Cloud joined the queue, but they didn’t have to wait long for their turn. Aerith hopped into the spacious cabin first, giggling at the spectacle of lights already visible from the windows. A quiet thump behind her told her that Cloud was on board too, and she turned to grin at him. He sat down first on one side of the cabin and, after some consideration, Aerith settled a fair distance from him—not far enough to be awkward, not close enough to be intimate.

As their cabin slowly began its climb upwards, Aerith’s attention was pulled outside the window. The fireworks show was starting.

“Wow, look at that!” she exclaimed.

The sky was an explosion of colours, mixing together in beautiful shapes all around them. She couldn’t see the stars in the sky, replaced by the light of the fireworks. Below and all around them, the rest of the Gold Saucer’s attractions and events were in full swing, from the roller coasters to the Chocobo races to the flash mob in the Terminal Square. It was loud and chaotic and frenetic. And yet, inside the Skywheel cabin, all was quiet and intimate.

Aerith glanced back at Cloud, only to catch him looking at her the way he had back in Cosmo Canyon, the way that was forever immortalised in the picture Aerith kept carefully tucked in her jacket pocket. She bit her lip.

“I know I’ve been weird,” she said, quietly. “And a little unfair.”

Cloud shook himself out of his reverie and raised an eyebrow. “A little?”

She half-laughed and stuck her tongue out at him. “It hasn’t exactly been easy for me, either.” She frowned. “You know… when we first met, there was something about you that really bothered me.”

He furrowed his brows. “Hey,” he said softly, without any real animosity. “I know I was kind of a dick, but—”

Aerith giggled. “Not that. Although…” She winked and he rolled his eyes, then she shook her head. “No, it was something else. It was in the way you talked, the way you carried yourself… I haven’t seen him in five years, but suddenly there was you, and if I wasn’t careful I’d start thinking he was there, wearing your clothes and your face.”

Cloud nodded slowly. “Zack?”

She hummed. “But he wasn’t. It’s always just been you. You, running around the slums with me. You, saving me from Shinra HQ. You, here with me right now.” Aerith sighed and leaned back into her seat. “You’re different, and things are different, and that’s okay.”

“Aerith—”

“But… there’s still so much I don’t know,” she continued. “So much that’s fuzzy and unclear.”

The degradation, her stolen memories, Sephiroth looming over it all. It felt so much bigger than her.

She stood up. Cloud’s eyes were on her, she could feel them, but she couldn’t meet them. “The thing is, Cloud… I’m trying so hard to find you.” The words were just flowing out of her now, as if someone else was speaking through her. Cloud was Cloud, he was right there, but he wasn’t, and—

He echoed her thoughts: “But I’m right here.” He blinked twice at her.

Aerith sighed. “I know, but…”

He let a long, uncomfortable beat pass. “Degradation, right?” he asked, quietly.

She froze. She turned around. He’d stood up as well without her noticing, and he was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, arms crossed and eyes planted on the fireworks show outside without really seeing it.

“…No,” she heard herself say. “Not degradation.” As she said it, she knew it was true. There was something else keeping him from her. But she couldn’t begin to guess.

Cloud took a tentative step towards her. “Then what?” he asked, maybe a little sharper than he’d meant to.

She flinched, and it seemed like the cabin flinched with her. The floor disappeared from under her feet, and she tumbled forward. Instinctively, she put her arms up to brace herself for the collision with the seat or the floor, but the only thing she hit was something warm and solid. Aerith blinked up at Cloud, as dazed as he looked. Maybe he’d caught her, maybe they’d just crashed into each other. Either way, she was gathered into his arms, feeling his pulse quicken under her fingertips in tandem with hers. He swallowed thickly as he looked down at her.

“I, uh, I think one of those solid holograms hit us,” he muttered.

“Oh,” she said. “Scary.”

“You’re okay. I got you.”

It was her turn to gulp down a knot in her throat. Cloud didn’t take his eyes away from hers, and they were so intense that they were burning.

“If it’s not the degradation, then what is it?” he asked quietly, not letting her go. “You said you want to find me—help me make that happen. I… I want you to find me. Just tell me how to let you.”

Aerith just stared at him, her mouth hanging slightly open. “Cloud…” she whispered. “I—I don’t know. I—”

The moment dragged on for a few tense, electric seconds.

A burst of fireworks exploded with a loud bang, and the sound cut between them like a knife. Aerith jumped out of his arms with a gasp as her world once again expanded to contain things other than Cloud Strife. “Woah,” she said, pressing a hand on her heart. “Is it just me, or was that way closer than the others?”

Cloud shook his head. “Uh… Oh, we’re just getting close to the top, I think.”

A glance out of the window told her that he was right. “I see,” she said, sitting back down. “This is safe, right?”

Cloud shrugged as he sat down too—again, just far enough from her as to not be intimate, the moment from before gone like a mirage. “It’s fine,” he said. “Not that Shinra gives a shit about people’s safety, but if this thing were dangerous, nobody would wanna set foot on it. Huge loss of profit.”

Aerith giggled and leaned back in her seat. “Reassuring. Kinda.” She sighed. “Well, we’ll just have to enjoy the show, then.”

He hummed, then turned back to the fireworks. Aerith studied him for a second. The moment was gone, but not forgotten. He still had a crease of worry between his brows, and her hands itched to reach out to smooth it over.

She bit her lip. Slowly, hesitantly, she scooted closer to him. “Forget about what I said, okay?” she whispered. “Let’s not worry about that. Not tonight.”

Cloud tossed her a sidelong look. “Forget about it?” He huffed a little. “You say the strangest stuff, and I’m just supposed to forget about it?”

“Yup,” she said, popping the p and forcing a playful grin on her face. “You know me. I don’t always make sense.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer, doubt clearly painted on his face. Then, he sighed and turned away. “Fine,” he said, dropping his eyes to the floor. He still looked unsteady, though, and like he wanted to ask a million questions. That wasn’t a look she wanted on his face—not now, amongst the fireworks in the sky.

Aerith only hesitated for one more moment. In one swift motion, she closed the rest of the distance between them and took his arm in her hands, leaning her head on his shoulder. She felt him stiffen in surprise under her touch, but he didn’t pull away.

“Aerith?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Just for tonight,” she said. “Okay?”

Cloud didn’t reply, but neither did he relax. Then, just as Aerith was about to let him go, he slowly moved. Delicately, he took one of her hands from his arm.

Aerith frowned a little, but sat up straighter. That was fair. She couldn’t keep expecting him to humour all her mixed signals—to be okay with her constantly pushing him away while she held him tight. She opened her mouth, an apology ready on her tongue, but Cloud laid her hand down, palm up, between them. A fraction of a second, and his own covered it, threading his fingers through hers.

She gasped quietly and looked up at him. He was still turned away from her, but when he felt her eyes on him, he shot her a sidelong glance. Red dusted his cheekbones and the tips of his ears, but his eyes were focused, daring, challenging. And they were an open book.

Not just for tonight. It takes two, right? I ’m in if you are.

Aerith couldn’t help but smile up at him a little shakily, feeling as if her heart was going to jump out of her chest. She looked at her bodyguard, at her friend, at the man she loved. There he went, fighting for her again, and again. It took her everything she had not to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him silly, to apologise for everything she’d put the both of them through. But in that moment, just being there with him, holding his hand, would have to be enough. As she closed her own fingers around his, Cloud finally relaxed next to her, and gave her hand a light squeeze. Aerith let her head fall against his shoulder again and closed her eyes.

“Just for tonight,” she repeated softly.

This close, she could feel Cloud’s sigh hit the crown of her head, a veneer of calm betrayed by the pounding of his heart, impossible to miss from where she was leaning against him. Aerith wondered if he was looking at her, but didn’t check. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if she met his eyes and found love and longing there.

She settled for looking at the fireworks again, holding his hand just a little bit tighter.

Five minutes later, as they stepped out of the cabin, Cloud extended a hand to help Aerith down. She took it with a small giggle, and ignored the way he held onto her for just a moment too long with practised cheerfulness.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said, locking her hands behind her back. “I had fun.”

Cloud hummed. “Me too.”

She glanced at the dwindling crowd in the square in front of them. “Ready for tomorrow?”

“Course. You?”

“Born ready!” She flexed playfully, drawing a chuckle out of him. “We should go get some shut-eye. Gotta be in tip-top shape to kick Corneo’s goons’ butts.”

“Right. Let’s go.”

Cloud went ahead, and Aerith followed him after just a moment. He seemed a little distracted, as if he had something else on his mind. She shook her head. Probably thinking about their strategy for the battle the next day. She supposed the real anomaly was Cloud thinking about something other than their mission for a whole evening.

The walk back to the Haunted Hotel was a silent one, but not uncomfortably so. There was no hurry in their step, as if neither of them quite wanted the night to end. That late, the park wasn’t as busy or loud. It felt more normal, more like a real place with real people rather than an endless party. Aerith kept glancing at Cloud, feeling a small smile playing on her lips.

One night, one perfect night with him. It would have to be enough. It would be enough. No harm in wanting to draw it out as long as she could.

But there was still a limit to how much she could dig her heels in, to how slowly they could walk. In the end, they stepped out of the lift and onto their floor.

Aerith sighed, hopping ahead of Cloud. “Well—”

“I’ll walk you to your room,” he said, coming up beside her.

She shot him a bemused smile. “Isn’t it, like… ten metres away from yours?”

Cloud cleared his throat, looking away with a faint blush on his face. “Still.”

Aerith giggled. “Alright, then, Mr Bodyguard.” She took his elbow. “Do the gentlemanly thing.”

To her absolute delight, he actually held up his arm a little higher as he gently tugged her forward. As promised, they walked right past the boys’ suite, and stopped just two doors over. Aerith let go of Cloud’s arm to rummage in her pockets for the room key. She didn’t want to wake Tifa and Yuffie up.

As she finally fished it out, she turned with a grin. “Looks like we’re here,” she said. “Thanks for the escort.”

Cloud nodded slowly. He was still blushing and refusing to meet her eye. Aerith cocked her head to the side. “What is it?” she said, leaning forward to try to catch his gaze.

“Uh…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I—If this really has to be just for tonight… There’s something I wanna do before tonight ends,” he said quickly, snapping his eyes back to hers.

Aerith blinked twice at him. “Oh?” she said.

He didn’t say anything right away. He gingerly took a step forward and took her hand in his, while his other hand hesitantly rose to brush over her cheek. Every move was slow and deliberate, like he was giving her the time and space to stop him or step away. But Aerith was rooted to the spot, frozen by his touch and what he was asking. She felt her eyes go wide, and she knew she had to say something. But when her mouth fell open, no words came out.

A little bolder and surer of himself, Cloud tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, a gesture so tender and gentle that Aerith felt a bit like bursting into tears. He pressed his lips together and swallowed thickly. “Can—Can I…?”

A stronger person might have said no. A stronger person might never had let them get to this point at all. But all Aerith could do was nod.

A flash of disbelief passed over his face, as if he’d still expected her to say no. Then he furrowed his brows and leaned closer to her until their lips were a breath apart—hesitant until the very last second, like she was going to break or disappear.

“Cloud?” she whispered.

He blinked and shook his head a little, as if coming out of a trance. Then, all at once, the hand on her cheek slid to the back of her head as he nudged her towards him to finally close the hint of distance between them.

Cloud’s kiss was just like him: gentle, nervous, but determined and a bit rough. Aerith felt her room key slip from her hand as she wrapped both her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back. Cloud’s other hand, the one not cradling the back of her head, went to her waist, pulling her even closer.

Aerith knew full well that this was a huge mistake, that she was throwing all her efforts to protect him down the drain. She supposed they would be in good company with her self-control. Because, damnit, she’d wanted to kiss Cloud for so long, and now that she was doing it she wasn’t sure she’d ever stop.

He broke away for a moment, but didn’t go far. “Aerith,” he murmured on her lips. “I—”

“Shh.” She closed the gap again. He seemed to have no objections to that, because his grip on her waist tightened as he pulled her even closer.

Cloud kissed her like he wanted to tell her something. It’s real, Aerith, it’s real, please, don’t let it be just for tonight, I’m tired of games and secrets, I love you, I love you, I love you.

And Aerith kissed him like she wanted to answer. It’s real for me too, I don’t want this to be just for tonight either, I’d lost our stupid game before we even started playing it, I love you, I love you, I love you.

She could feel the pounding of his heart almost as if it was coming from inside her chest, and she wondered if he could feel hers the same way. She smiled over his lips, and he just kissed her harder, while his hand at her waist shifted to rub gentle circles on her back. Aerith pulled him even closer, trying to commit everything about him to memory. His warmth, his taste, his scent, the way his hair felt threaded through her fingers—just him, just Cloud.

Down in the lobby of the Haunted Hotel, the grandfather clock chimed—midnight. And, just like in a fairy tale, it broke the spell.

Aerith froze with her hands tangled in Cloud’s hair as she returned to reality. The reality where they couldn’t be a normal couple sharing a good-night kiss after a date, where they weren’t supposed to be in love at all, where Aerith had to be the one to know better, despite how much it hurt.

Cloud pulled away from her. “Aerith…?” he called, voice a little hoarse. His whole face was flushed crimson, and his pupils were blown wide. His hair was even messier than usual and his mouth was hanging open, huffing a little through kiss-swollen lips. He looked stunning, and she’d done that to him.

Aerith screwed her eyes shut, willing that image to disappear from her brain. “It’s tomorrow,” she whispered, fighting to keep her voice even.

She felt him stiffen in her arms. When she looked at him again, it was like something had cracked in his expression. He stared at her like she’d just stabbed him, shock and hurt clear as day. She wished she hadn’t looked. “I’m sorry,” she said, slipping out of his grasp.

Cloud let her, and his arms fell limply to his sides. “Aerith, I—” He pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry,” he muttered then, averting his gaze.

Aerith shook her head. “Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She fought the urge to cup his cheek in her hand, settling instead for a quick pat on his upper arm. “Good-night.”

Quickly, she picked up her room key and unlocked the door. As she slipped through, she looked at him again. He hadn’t moved from his spot, and he still had his eyes fixed on the floor.

Aerith forced a smile. “Hey, chin up,” she said. “Gotta be in tip-top shape tomorrow, right? Better get some rest.”

Cloud blinked twice as he met her gaze again, then frowned. “Right,” he spat out, bitter and hurt. Aerith winced. He seemed to notice, and something in his face softened. “Right,” he repeated, gentler but no less upset. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Good-night, Cloud.”

“Night.”

If she looked into those big, sad eyes of his any longer, she knew she would have jumped right back into his arms, so Aerith quickly shut the door between them. With a sigh, she leaned her head against it and closed her eyes.

She hated herself.

And she hated fate, and the Whispers, and the Aerith of the past who was calling all the shots for the Aerith of the present, and her stupid, stupid feelings pulling her in every direction at once. More than anything, she hated the hurt darkening Cloud’s face, the bitterness in his voice, and she hated that she was the cause of all of it.

She felt like crying, but she didn’t deserve to.

After what felt like an eternity, muffled footsteps came from the other side of the door, and it occurred to her that she hadn’t heard Cloud walking away after she’d closed it. She gulped down a sob at the thought that he might have been standing there that whole time, alone in the hallway, maybe hoping she’d come back.

“I love you,” she whispered, barely loud enough for even her to hear. The words tasted bittersweet on her tongue: sweet, because they were true and beautiful; bitter, because she was saying them to a closed door.

---

Aerith was sure that the owner of the bar was going to kick her out any minute now. She just hoped that her half empty glass of foul bottom shelf… whatever would be enough to convince him that she still counted as a customer, rather than an anxious little thing hiding away at his counter far too late in the night.

No. Half full. Her glass was half full. It had to be, because then everything would be fine at the Temple and they’d get the Black Materia back and they’d all be okay and—

“That any good?” came  Cloud’s voice, soft behind her.

She straightened up, then shook her head. “No,” she said, not particularly caring if the owner heard her. She still pushed the glass towards Cloud as he sat down on the stool next to hers. “But you can try it, if you want.”

“I’ll pass. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink.”

Aerith shrugged. “Don’t do it often. I don’t like it when my brain’s fuzzy. Usually.” Tonight, I wish it was.

Cloud hummed. “Yeah. Same.”

Neither of them said anything for a long beat. Aerith bit her lip. They hadn’t actually gotten a moment alone since their date at the Gold Saucer. The day after had been… a lot. The Coliseum match, the Turks, Cait Sith’s betrayal, the panic and anxiety of it all. There had been no time to talk, no time to rest. Only once, in the night, had Cloud reached out for her. They’d been riding in the buggy, crossing the desert in their desperate rush to make it to the Temple of the Ancients before it was too late. Aerith had thought that almost everyone was asleep—except for Tifa, at the driver’s wheel, and Cid, operating as her navigator. Aerith couldn’t sleep, though. Thoughts of the Black Materia, of Cait Sith, of the Ancients, of Sephiroth kept running through her mind a mile a minute, and she just couldn’t stop. Until someone shifted next to her, and then suddenly there was a hand in hers, warm and solid. She’d turned to Cloud, blinking slowly. He hadn’t said anything, just brushed his thumb over her knuckles. Then, he’d nodded towards his shoulder—an invitation that Aerith had accepted with a sigh of relief, greedily taking in his warmth as she rested her head on it and closed her eyes again.

There had been no need for words that night. She wasn’t sure it was the same now. It was the calm before the storm—one night in Costa del Sol before they would board the Bronco and sail North. To face whatever was waiting for them there. Suddenly, the silence was suffocating.

“You worried?” she asked, folding her arms on the counter and sneaking him a glance.

Cloud sighed. “We’ll be fine. We’ll get the Black Materia back.”

“We will.” She hummed, leaning her forehead down on her crossed arms. “Still.”

“Still what?”

Aerith drew in a deep breath. “I think I’m more than worried. I’m scared,” she whispered.

She felt his hand land tentatively on her shoulder. “I got you,” he said. “I promised you I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?”

“You did.” She turned her head a bit to look at him. His eyes were soft, understanding, but determined and focused. “Thanks. I’ll keep you safe too.”

Cloud cracked a smile. “That’s not how bodyguards work.”

Aerith giggled, straightening up. “It’s how this one works.” She leaned on the counter again, this time on a propped elbow. “He acts real tough and strong, but he still needs his favourite florist to bail him out of trouble every once in a while.”

He playfully rolled his eyes. “As if.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, then gave him a small smile. “I protect you, you protect me. Deal?”

Cloud nodded slowly. “Deal.”

Quiet descended once again. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but it was charged. As if they were both waiting for something.

In the end, Cloud was the one who broke it. “We need to talk,” he said, furrowing his brows seriously.

Aerith gave him a lopsided smile. “We are talking.”

He frowned, but it was almost more of a pout. “Aerith.”

“Yeah. I know.” She sighed. “Sorry.”

Cloud took a deep breath. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, with no progress on his starting sentence. Aerith giggled quietly, and he shot her an unhappy look. “Give me a break.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, still smiling. “Go on.”

He inched his hand forward on the counter until it brushed hers. Without breaking eye contact, he gently entwined their fingers. Aerith stilled a little, but let him.

Letting out a sigh, Cloud stroked circles with his thumb on the back of her hand. “If I ask you a question, will you promise to answer me? And tell me the truth?”

Aerith bit her lip. “Cloud—”

His hold on her hand tightened. “Please,” he whispered. “I need to know.”

She looked into his pleading eyes, and there was nothing she could do but nod.

Cloud broke eye contact, but didn’t let go of her hand. “Our game,” he started. “Still playing?”

Aerith wanted to laugh. They were still speaking in code. She supposed it was easier than the alternative.

Do you love me? Are you still trying not to?

A few days before, she would have tried to find an escape. She’d have teased him and avoided answering. But she was tired. So tired, so sad, so scared, and maybe a little tipsy too.

So, she shook her head. “No. I lost a long time ago.”

Cloud sucked in a sharp breath. “You did?” he asked, so quiet that she almost missed it.

Aerith hummed. “I tried. I’ve been trying. But… I guess I always knew I was going to lose, didn’t I? That’s why I tried to put it on you.”

“Too late,” he blurted out. He grimaced slightly, then cleared his throat. “It was always too late.”

She blinked at him. “What?”

He was blushing to the tip of his ears and refusing to meet her eye. “Yeah. I think the dream was when I knew, but…” He shook his head. “It’s like I told you in Nibelheim. It was inevitable. From the moment I met you, I was always going to—” He cut himself off and finally looked at her again.

Aerith could only stare at him. She’d known he had feelings for her now, but… “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. “All this time—”

Cloud scoffed. “After two weeks? After two days? That’s creepy as hell.”

“I suppose,” she said, giggling as she drew closer. “But it would have saved us a lot of headaches.”

He frowned a little. “And you? You could’ve said something earlier.”

“I could’ve.” She dropped her gaze to the ground. “But I told you—I was trying to protect you. Guess I was always doomed to fail there, huh?” She swallowed a knot in her throat. “I’m scared.” Then, she felt his hand on her chin, gently tilting her head up to meet his eyes again.

“I’m here,” he whispered. “And I’ll be here. As long as you want me to.”

Aerith pressed her lips together. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen now. I don’t know what we’ll find at the Temple. I just—”

“We’ll figure it out. Okay?”

She nodded a little shakily. Then, she closed her eyes. “Okay.” His hand slowly shifted so that he was cupping her face. As he gently stroked the skin under her eye, Aerith sighed and leaned into the touch. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” she whispered, covering his hand with hers. “You’re still here, fighting for me, despite everything.”

Cloud chuckled. “I told you before. You’re you and I’m me. You’re worth it. That’s all.”

She smiled. “Inevitable, right?”

“For me it was. But it takes two.”

“Well, it was inevitable for me too,” she replied, stealing a kiss from his palm. “But I just want the record to show that if anything happens, I tried.”

Cloud scoffed. “Noted. But I won’t let it.”

Aerith hummed, studying his face. His eyes were focused, but soft—soft like in the picture, soft like on the Skywheel, like at the water tower, like at the bonfire, like on the beach, like in the dream. She leaned a little closer to him. “Can I kiss you now?”

Cloud stilled for a fraction of a second. Then, instead of replying, he just closed the distance between them. This kiss was nothing like their first: no rush, no nervousness, no uncertainty. Just quiet affection and relief.

“I love you,” murmured Aerith without breaking contact. “I love you.” And, this time, it was all sweet. So sweet.

In response, Cloud let go of her hand to cup her face with both of his and pull her even closer to him. He muttered something against her lips, something she couldn’t quite make out, but it didn’t really matter. She had a good guess.

Cloud was the one to pull away first, this time. His eyes shone with love and relief, and Aerith thought that she wanted to drown in the Mako blue. “I won’t let anything happen,” he repeated, barely above a whisper. “I’m not losing you, no matter what.”

Aerith smiled, tracing his jawline with a delicate finger. “Promise?”

He nodded. “Promise.”

[silverflqmes]

໒⦂ 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄.

synopsis. the seeds of doubt have carefully been planted, nurtured diligently throughout the unknown journey before blossoming at the height of it all.

genre. angst / kinda psychological + dark

tw. major character death, violence, manipulation if you squint ( actually, it’s very much there ), unreliable cloud- like, UNRELIABLE AS FUCK ( not necessarily puppet cloud, more so that his views are very much flawed and well, you’ll see lol )

notes. UHH HAPPY NEW YEAR??? it is still new years eve for me.. sorry y’all i did not do no softie sefikura w taylor’s new year’s eve</3 i give you don’t blame me instead, same album, totally different tone😭😭

sephiroth x cloud strife. ( + aerti, if you squint )

whorls of darkish velvet and purplish hues encapsulated cloud, eyes never tearing from the orb capable of calling upon the destruction of the planet- a great comet.

in the background, there were muffled noises to be heard — it sounded like his friends, but their words had been somewhat incoherent. likely irrelevant, in that case. SOLIDER hearing outnumbered that of a normal human, and a first class like him was sure to pick up on such with ease.

for whatever reason, sephiroth had pestered him for days on end, moments upon moments; urging him to collect this infamous materia. in the beginning it felt stupid, annoying even- like a trap waiting to be sprung.

now, he understood.

of course, the smart choice would have been to ignore his whims and not find the artifact his former hero had sought after, but curiosity got the better of him. there was an undeniable desire to have the ball of horrors- a relentless pull that reeled him into eager claws that dug themselves into the confines of his mind, ever so deeply.

mako tinted sapphires glimmered, reflecting the dark nebula within his palm before a hand suddenly, and rudely, enveloped it.

snapped from his daze, the blond shot his head up, grabbing onto the broad wrist on instinct as a deep frown etched onto his lips. it was his friend barrett- he had taken the black materia. why had he done that? it was his- he had fought for it.

“that’s mine!” he blurted in a voice that felt detached from his own, as though five years had been shaved off. it was younger, a plea likely to come from a petulant teenager who had a precious item plucked from their grasp as discipline.

but cloud hadn’t done anything wrong, what business did his comrade have taking what he had acquired fair and square?

the leader of avalanche gave him a long, skeptical look before letting out a scoff, tossing the sphere of horrors over his shoulder. "fine. fetch."

a brief panic splashed itself across the merc's visage as he broke into a small jog for the clattering ball, fearful of the bottomless abyss below. if it tumbled over the edge.. what would he do then? how would he live with himself knowing he had failed to complete such a simple task in obtaining the materia sephiroth had asked him for?

sephiroth.

before the glowing orb of evil could meet its end over the edge, it came to a soft halt against an awaiting pair of black boots, stopping perfectly before the man himself.

dazed, cloud found himself looking up at the self-proclaimed heir of the planet, mako-tinted orbs flashing. "sephiroth.." he called without thinking, a string of confused noises echoing from behind him, though he couldn't find it in him to care much. not with the ethereal sight that beheld him.

the man in question seemed to pick the materia up for himself, a feline-like smirk appearing on his lips. "this is the key.." he began, not addressing anyone in particular, and yet everyone all that the same time. "which grants access to the true counterpart hidden between worlds."

cloud hung onto every word like a moth drawn to a flame, almost missing the blur of pink, red and brown come up by his left. aerith? why was she swatting for the hand that contained the black materia? it wasn't hers.

as though sephiroth had known that too, his figure rose from the broken off path that once led into the ancients' temple before she could close in on him, hovering a few meters above the space he once occupied as the streams within the ball of nebulas materialized into billows of reddish-purple.

utterly captivated, the spiky haired male could only watch in astonishment as whispers swarmed the man he once still idolized, lips parting slightly. "the black materia.." he breathed out, unable to tear his gaze away as he prodded closer toward the edge, shaking his head when aerith mentioned the whispers. it wasn't them. they were there, yes- but could she not clearly see who they orbited? the embodiment of majesty that stood proudly amidst them?

"no.." he corrected calmly, brushing past the lighter haired brunette with little care for her being. "sephiroth."

by this point, said male had lowered himself back down to the newly arranged bundle of oversized.. branches? is that what they were? cloud couldn't be bothered with the technicalities, as he felt a pull towards the center where his enemy everything stood, feeling his heart patter increasingly louder. it was ultimately the call of a siren in the form of a shimmering treasure, held up by the human, or rather demi-god, personification of the mythical creature.

realizing this, the former hero plastered a smile reserved solely for him, an endearing crease to the corners of his eyes as he extended a leather covered palm toward the shorter, prompting him. "i'm waiting, cloud."

somehow the SOLDIER in question felt heavy, as though something was both pulling and pushing him away all at the same time; why was that? he wanted the black materia, and sephiroth was generous enough to stop it from descending into the abyss. of course he should retrieve it, he would be foolish to waste their combined efforts.

with a wince and a series of struggling noises, cloud fought that contradicting feeling he felt and staggered toward the threshold, pausing a few paces away to watch with eager eyes as the shimmering sphere rematerialized itself within the grasp of his enemy. gaia, it was mesmerizing, utterly beautiful. he had to have it, it had to be his- theirs.

flexing his fingers, sephiroth allowed the ancients' treasure to drop from his gloved fingers toward the blond, bouncing only seven times before eager paws were scrambling forward to scoop it gingerly towards their face.

the panting that spilled from pale pink lips was like music to his ears the more he continued to eye his sweet little nemesis, stepping forward with empyrean grace until those doe, mako coated sapphires were staring up at him once more. narrowed only to him, as though nothing else had existed in that moment. because nothing had; it was only him, a storm of whispers and the black materia, with his general at the center.

"rise, cloud." said general urged, holding out a hand once more to his knelt emissary. "bring it to me." he purred out, a repetition of a command that cloud had heard a numerous amount of times already that it had become engraved- instilled into the very bones and nerves of his body to move as told.

wordlessly, albeit with parted lips, the mercenary stood to his feet, walking up to the other with an outstretched palm to deliver the glowing orb as requested. after all, sephiroth was benevolent enough to salvage it before it could fall into the endless fog below. naturally, he should bring him what he'd asked for him to obtain.

then, a weight slammed into his right. a body, to be precise.

aerith? no.

one glance toward his flank, and he found his childhood friend, tifa- or at least, she looked like tifa, arms encircled tightly around his right bicep while aerith.. aerith was now holding the black materia?

the beating heart lodged between his lungs quickened, air restricting within the depths of his hollowed chest. no.. no, he could not have another person take it away from him, he had to fulfill his duty- it was to be brought to sephiroth. the man had asked only one thing of him, he could not fail to deliver. it was theirs, no one else's.

"aerith!" he called out as though he'd broken the surface of a violent sea, extending the hand of the arm that was being occupied by the marital artist beside him. "please!" the flower girl was nice, she had been kind to him since their first meeting, so then.. why was she running away from him now? why was tifa holding him back from approaching-?

was that what they had been whispering about throughout their journey together, whenever they went off ahead, giggling on their own? was this what they hadn't wanted him to hear about; a plot to ultimately sabotage him when it truly counted?

tifa continued to tug him back, wincing at his squirms, "cloud!" she cried out in worry, "snap out of it!" but snap out of what?

his lips parted to question what she had meant, turning his head slowly towards her before freezing up at the velvet that poured into his ear.

"yes, cloud."

glancing to his left, he was met with the sight of his hero, smiling fondly down at him. "snap out of it."

what was he thinking? of course it was jenova again, toying with his head in the form of his deceased friend, and sephiroth had seen through that!

gathering the strength to his right, he shoved the imposter away without tearing his gaze from the swirling darkness cradled against the half-cetra's chest, trudging forward with glinting, teal hues.

'tifa' bellowed out behind him to stop, though it fell on deaf ears, as had the other female's words in regards to receiving the materia. why were they being so difficult? they had claimed to be his friends, and yet..

a gentle smile lifted sephiroth's lips just by the corners, liquid moonlight spilling forward as he leaned down to the other's height, "if she won't give it to us," he softly began, watching as the sheen of distance slowly leaked out from cloud's gaze when he drew in a breath. "we must take it."

pupils dilated to a considerable diameter, and once more, his feet began to pad toward the ancient now surrounded by cloaked, floating figures of smoke and going eyes, steps growing increasingly faster. "aerith! let's talk." he called out with something akin to a giggle, as if it had been a game of tag. and perhaps, it might've been.

she wasn't responding, after all, what better was it than the park game children often played?

"i need it.." cloud added a bit lower this time, a sternness seeping into his voice. "give it to me." he tried again, heart in his throat, "please..? you can trust me.." unlike the others, he never hid secrets or discussed topics in private that lead to mutiny like this, practically embarrassing him in front of sephiroth. "let's save the planet together.. aerith." she liked to hear that, right? they would be saving the planet in allowing sephiroth to have the black materia, wouldn't they? and he would set everything right once more. precisely why he needed to deliver the powerful sphere to him, the savior of their crumbling world.

where the branch broke off, the emerald eyed girl came to a stuttered halt, letting out a strained exhale as the blond closed in on her, reaching out his hand. "the orb, aerith." he addressed a bit more firmly this time.

violence wasn't something cloud wanted to resort to. hurting his friends was the last thing he had wanted to do, but they were making it increasingly difficult not to take such measures.

the female furrowed her brows, lowering her head as her grip tightened behind her back on the artifact at the sight of the jade eyed male looming behind her ally before letting out a breath of defeat.

"whatever happens," a sad smile seemed to graze aerith's lips when she brought her hands before her, whisps of pink emerging from the ball within her hold, "i'm here for you."

with those final words expressed, the object traveled toward cloud's awaiting palms, dropping into their expectant hold before he tipped his head, politely. "thank you." at last, he could bring sephiroth what he'd asked for- who had now been standing at the center of the makeshift bridge, patiently awaiting the exchange.

eagerness seemed to seep into the steps he took as he nearly jogged up to his hero with a bowed head, holding his hands out in offering once he was close enough. the entire situation felt like gifting something to a god, and perhaps, that was exactly what this was. sephiroth had claimed to be the chosen one, made to rule the withering planet they all inhabited. what different was he from divinity?

leather caressed leather ever so lightly, and cloud felt butterflies at the pit of his stomach when he finally looked up with hopeful eyes, awaiting the words he had waited to hear his entire life. the ones he had dreamt of being voiced to him as he gazed upon the poster that hung in his old bedroom, now turned into ash alongside his past ambitions. but, that was fine- the real thing was standing right in front of him- a piece of paper that was once an unattainable dream was no more.

"did i.. do a good job?" he whispered the words when his patience could no longer withstand his curiosities, the corners of his lips twitching into the tiniest of smiles.

the successor of calamity gave a contemplative hum at the question, tilting his head. "i believe you have.. perhaps a reward is in order?" he offered, pressing the black materia to his pectoral. "would you like that, cloud?"

a reward? from sephiroth?

oh.. cloud could hardly contain himself any longer, he was practically vibrating in his boots, beaming up at his cherished idol with stars in his eyes at the possibilities. a caress on the head? words of praise? knuckles offered out to kiss? or perhaps, even a peck on his own lips, if he was truly so deserving...

he stepped up closer, nodding zealously. "y-yes, sir..!" he returned in a fashion he would have once upon a time ago, back when sephiroth had endearingly referred to him zack as a puppy. "i would like that very-"

alas, fate had other plans in store for them.

"tifa, now!" aerith's voiced sliced through the lovely moment the blond had been sharing with his hero, startling him as he noted the blur that came up behind the looming figure before him.

panicked, the SOLDIER swiveled around his superior to shield his broad back, drawing up his arms to cross over his face in an attempt to brace against the unbridled strength of his friend.

it hurt, as though the impact carried the force of shockwaves created by natural disasters, an ache unlike any other spreading across the expanse of his limbs. however, it mattered little. sephiroth was safe, he was not injured- and he would not allow him to be, not by anyone. least of all his own friends, who continued to test his trust in them.

"cloud??" his imposter of a childhood friend gasped out in horror, flinching her hand back from his forearms, though the damage was already done. "have you completely lost your mind?!"

has he? no, but she certainly had.

the male in question lowered his bruised arms with a deadened expression, reaching behind his back. "don't think i'm falling for that shit again." he answered instead, wrapping his fingers around the hilt of his weapon. "i was gonna let you and aerith off with a warning for conspiring, pretty much lying behind my back, and interfering for the last time after you finally handed us the black materia.. but you just couldn't let it go, could you?" he countered venomously, shaking his head with a humorless laugh. "i might have tolerated everything else, but this?"

anger spilled from his lips, a nurtured rage that he'd been asked to fill his hollowed heart with. "i draw a line at hurting sephiroth."

mouth agape, tifa knitted her brows in disbelief, appalled by what she was hearing. "you're.. you're actually serious?" she exhaled, cradling her fist to her chest, which was gradually beginning to tremble. "he's turning you against us, don't you see that??"

cloud pursed his lips together, the pinch between his own brows unyielding. what was he meant to see? there was nothing to be seen, other than the treachery before him.

at his growing silence, sephiroth placed a comforting hand over his shoulder, leaning into his ear with that same pleased smile from before. "she is deceiving you, cloud.. sullying the image of your dear, departed friend to come between our reunion, and has recruited the cetra to join her cause." he whispered, honeyed words that melted into cloud's ear like the warmth of a great hearth on a harsh winter morn in nibelheim. "do not be swindled by her accusations. for i.. am with you. never once have i lied to you, have i?" he murmured kindly, resting his chin against the crook of his neck whilst holding the hurt, wine eyes burning a few paces from him.

“you know the truth. trust in me.”

a slow shake of his head was the beginning of his response as he swallowed the lump lodged in the back of his throat. "no, you.. you never lied to me." the blond answered quietly, hyperaware of the breath currently grazing his cheek. sephiroth was so close to him now, he'd practically felt like utter jelly beneath the blazing hot sun, thawing underneath its powerful rays. the entire northern region yielding to the heat of a fallen star- meteor.

the son of jenova smiled. "very good, cloud. now then, you know what you must do." he continued tenderly, carding his fingers down the length of his arm. "if your friends do not wish to cooperate with our goals in saving the planet, then i'm afraid.. that makes them our enemies."

cloud nodded solemnly, tightening his hold on the hilt of the buster before drawing it at last, stalking towards the mirage of his childhood friend. "i will.. do what i must."

tifa stumbled backwards as the spiky haired male began to close the distance, a wave of deja vu washing over her. the scene was almost identical to the incident at the gongaga reactor, only this time..

this time, cloud would not fail.

"cloud, don't!" aerith cried out from where she stood behind him, jogging forward, though sephiroth blocked her way, smirking darkly.

"i believe you have meddled long enough where your hands should not be." he chuckled out, raising his free hand to call upon the whispers once more. "you did well on allowing destiny to unravel as it was fated to, but your ambitions got the better of you.. shame."

aerith narrowed her viridian eyes, thrashing against the swarm of dark cloaks. “you won’t win-!! cloud is.. b-better than this,” she gasped out, flailing her arms in an attempt to swat them away, “he won’t join you!”

“mm, but that is where you are wrong, flower girl.” the general mused out, approaching her with calculated grace before leaning forward, “he’s been mine since the day he hung my poster up on his bedroom wall.”

because at the end of the day, cloud would always succumb to his deeply, rooted wants of being with him. he had wanted so badly to join SOLDIER to be like sephiroth- to one day fight alongside him, and hear saccharine praises spill from his divine lips. regardless of how much he might suppress those dreams or fight them off, within his empty little heart, he knew.

with the conversation all but drowned out, cloud's lips formed that same chilling smile that had overtaken his features earlier in the temple of the ancients, angling his blade over his right shoulder. it felt.. comfortable. sephiroth fought that way, and it worked for him at the gongaga reactor. perhaps it won’t fail him again here.

tifa, horrified by the saucers in her eyes, seemed to stumble backwards until there were no longer any dark roots left to step on. the rest of the party seemed all but blocked off by a particularly large branch, whispers shielding off any pathway into the threshold. she was all alone, with aerith nearing her own end as well.

“cloud, please!” she cried out, clenching her fists against her chest. “this isn’t you! fight him, i know that you can!”

but what was there to fight? for once, the blond had felt light. floating above the clouds, caressed by a serenity offered by the stars and moon. there were no headaches, no invisible weight of the entire world on his shoulders, and no guilt of his incompetence. at last, he felt peace.. and tifa wanted to take that away from him? what childhood friend would do that?

“there’s nothing to fight.” he answered calmly, stopping in front of her. “this is me. and if that is something you can’t accept, then..” cloud paused, sweeping his blade forward. “you really aren’t her.”

a scream that hadn’t quite translated into sound left the bartender’s mouth, horror etching onto the half-cetra’s visage as she helplessly watched, unable to move towards her.

“TIFA!!!” aerith wailed out, squirming against the flurry of black robes before at last breaking free of their suppression. almost as if they had intentionally waited until the deed was done before at last granting her mobility when it would be too late.

sephiroth sported that same pleased smile, stepping to the side with leisure while the former lover of fair bolted towards the scene, even going as far as to jump after the martial artist. how foolishly sweet.

with distant eyes, the ex-SOLDIER looked over the edge, feeling a strange flood of despair fill his chest. an ache he could not quite place his finger on, though it left as quick as it came when a broad hand touched his hip, curling almost possessively.

“good boy,” sephiroth whispered into his ear, peering over his pauldron covered shoulder. “you’ve honored your dear friend’s memory by eliminating the imposter. pity, the cetra seemed to have.. fallen, for the act.” he sighed out glumly, though his rosewood appendages told another story.

cloud, still fixated on the void below, found himself nodding absentmindedly, not fully sure of what he was agreeing with, or of how to respond. he had felt happiness at pleasing sephiroth, and yet..

as if sensing the conflict within his hollow little heart, the male in question slid a hand beneath his chin, tilting it away from the scene to meet his gaze.

emerald nearly swallowed sapphire as the blond blinked up at him slowly, feeling the sorrowful coldness all but vaporize into a blazing, fervent heat. a warmth that flooded his freckled cheeks like roses blooming on spring morning, as his veins sang with elation upon being touched. the voices were gone, the pain had subdued, dissipated even, and the weight was nearly gone- all from a singular caress.

unknowingly, he found himself leaning into the smooth leather, loosing a shuddered breath at the bliss of nothingness in his head. “it’s quiet.” cloud muttered out, closing his eyes.

sephiroth smiled fondly down at him. “isn’t it?” he hummed in agreement, tracing the bone of his cheek. “as though the agony is all but nonexistent, and the invasive voices are no longer present to muddle your thoughts." the former general continued, tucking a strand of gold behind his ear. "do you know why that is?"

a singular word, amidst the serenity within his head, echoed in response- a saccharine covered word unlike the poison filled ones that frequented his mind. "reunion.." it felt forbidden, yet familiar to say; like it belonged on his tongue- to be shared wholly with the hero of his dreams.

"that's right." he returned in a soft voice, pleased to hear that the other was finally beginning to understand. without the two girls to keep him clinging onto a sense of self that he no longer was or ever would be, at last, cloud, the real one, could be his. "our cells sang out to one another in the time that we have been apart.. and at last, reunited as we now are, they harmonize into a symphony of much anticipated peace."

cloud hung on the last word, looking down for a moment. "peace.." he echoed quietly in return, mirroring the smile that was given to him. although it left as quick as it took residence on across his features. "but-" an important detail that he felt foolish to have forgotten so easily. "..what about the planet?" despite everything, shinra was still out there. a sliver of bliss right now could not possibly erase the damage done to the world as they knew it.

regardless of how ecstatic he had felt to be praised and held by the star of his wildest dreams, there was much to be done.

having expected the comment, the corners of sephiroth's eyes creased ( reminiscent of the adoring gaze a cat would bestow only to those worthy ), as he leaned in closely- only a breath away from the latter's lips. "worry not, cloud. we shall save the planet.. together." he murmured back in reassurance, brushing a thumb against the tiny piercing that glimmered amidst spiky tufts. "the time will come to do so soon. until then, we shall leave. this place has served its purpose well."

the ex-SOLDIER found himself shuddering when his earring was touched, but nodded either way. he had found and delivered the black materia, there was no longer any reason for their being there.

"except that maybe the others-"

"cloud," the feline eyed SOLDIER addressed, pulling the blond from his thoughts as his head snapped up to meet his gaze once more, having lowered without his notice.

"yes, sir-!" he blurted in reply, mentally scolding himself for spacing out so carelessly. how embarrassing, in front of the famed hero, no less! "where to next..?" his journey up until now had revolved around finding sephiroth, and now that they were reunited..

the smile gracing the one winged angel's lips more or less contorted into a smirk, a soft chuckle slipping past them. "towards the northern continent, where my true body resides." he purred out, lowering the hand curved against cloud's freckled cheek to draw him in closer by the waist. "destiny awaits us there."

notes. this has been rotting in my drafts since october and spawned because my monkey brain was locked away by a load of essays i had due for class, meanwhile it was itching, CRAVING to spew word vomit from this scene.. and then i got distracted because i got shoved down the sonic rabbit hole man.. anyway, i hope you all had great holidays if you celebrated! best believe i will do my best to contribute for sfkr week.. coming soon.

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[yanderelmk]

May I ask headcanons for a yandere lady bone demon? Since I watch her scenes I bet she would touch her 'destiny' words on gn reader telling destiny wants them to be together, it's something that got stuck on my head when I think on it XD and some quotes if you want? 👉👈

Thanks a lot!

The LBD would definitely have the Mayor watching and guarding you 24/7. Your every move is carefully kept under watch so you don't accidentally stumble upon and ruin her plans.

You may have moments where you wake up unsure of how you got somewhere, in those moments you likely got too close to something so the Bone Demoness took the liberty of safely relocating you.

"Our being together is simply another part of beautiful destiny. You will be the crown jewel in my new era of perfection."

If possible, she's going to find a way to mark either you or your aura so no one, be they mortal or immortal, can mistake you as anything but hers.

"Sweet blessing of mine, there is no need for you to worry. Everything will work out as it should, all you must do is simply sit back and let me carve out a new world where we can live in harmony. Is that not what you desire most of all? The two of us side by side in a utopia of peace where the imperfections of the world can no longer harm us? I will do everything within my power to make that paradise a reality for us both."

The LBD is normally a collected, calm individual, but that goes right out the window the second it looks like someone is trying to hurt you, she'll possess them just to make them throw themselves off the biggest height she can find...if she's feeling merciful or is pressed for time.

She doesn't have time to constantly be punishing the unworthy who lay their hands upon you or sully your ears with lies about just how perfect you are. Luckily, the Mayor is all to glad to assist his lady in such matters, and the man can get rather...creative.

With how manipulative she is, it's probably necessary in her mind to keep you as under her thumb as possible. She might even get you to start believing in the destiny she talks about. After all, who doesn't want a world free of strife? Wouldn't things be easier if you just let her take control? After all, she treats you with such love and care, that has to mean she'll be just as kind to everyone else in her new era, right?

Of course if you push her too far she won't hesitate to possess you. One way or another, you're going to be by her side for all of eternity.

"Their imperfections have clouded your judgement, my love. The only thing left to do is grant you this mercy and heal the fractured logic that has made you turn from me."

I just realized the LBD heavily fits the song Perfect Circle - Pet:

"I'll be the one to protect you from your enemies and all your demons. I'll be the one to protect you from a will to survive and a voice of reason. I'll be the one to protect you from your enemies and your choices son. We're one and the same I must isolate you... Isolate and save you from yourself."

[somebodys-nightmare]

Cloti Fanfic - Diamonds in the Sky

I'm really getting hyped for FFVII Rebirth, Ever Crisis, and more cloti content. I have some new fics I'm working on, but I thought in the meantime, I'd start sharing some of my old work here since I haven't gotten much use out of this tumblr. You can read them here or at the Ao3 Links that I share.

Today I am sharing one that I had a lot of fun writing a couple of years ago. Enjoy!

Title: Diamonds in the Sky

Rating: E

Pairing: Cloud Strife/Tifa Lockhart

Summary: Under the cover of stars, Tifa shares intimate moments with Cloud throughout their journey, unearthing her deepest feelings for the boy she's loved ever since he committed himself to her atop a water tower, long ago.

Diamonds In The Sky

They never talk about it.

It’s a weight between them, but Tifa doesn’t want to acknowledge it.  She can’t, even though every time she wakes up, the words and the questions hover over her tongue, thicker and heavier when she glances over at him and finds his eyes on her face or her body but quickly averting away.  Their stares meet briefly, and then they fall apart, and he rises and that is the end of it.

They never speak of it, not throughout the days’ travels and trials, not whenever they catch one another’s glances throughout the day, not when they fall in step beside each other, and not when they find themselves by each other’s side again the very next night.

They’ve been sleeping together.

They never talk about it, but ever since that first night, miles outside of Kalm, it becomes a habit that they both fall into wordlessly and that neither of them can avoid.  And it always happens beneath the cover of the sky, never at inns or under the safety of a roof.  

Always under the stars.

Tifa knows that something changed between them during that moment in the garden.  She felt it in his embrace, in the tightness of his hold on her when he drew her in, in the strength hidden in his arms as he held her.  Even though she had been fracturing from the pain of their losses, from the destruction of the only home she had left, and from the deaths of more innocents that she somehow knew she was at least partially responsible for, she had felt it.  There was more behind his hug than comfort; there was a yearning and a passion that simmered dangerously beneath the surface of both their skin, hearts thundering and bodies trembling, Tifa crushed to him to the point that her ribs were sore and her lungs constricted.

Ever since that moment, things had been different.  She’d seen it in his eyes when he stared back at her on the Shinra Tower’s roof, felt it in the way his hand locked around her wrist when she kept him from falling to his death.

Whatever happened between them when he folded her into his embrace, Tifa knows that it kicked up her own feelings, feelings that she’s held on to since she was a gangly limbed preteen on a water tower under a sea of blue and white glitter.

The first time it happens, it’s outside of Kalm, miles past the marshes and the mines.  Tifa still feels the heaviness of their visit to that village on her heart, the weight of Cloud’s shared memories, so many of them mismatching her own.  All day she rolls them through her thoughts, trying not to let the distraction impede her abilities on the battlefield and as a productive member of their party.  But she can’t dissuade herself from the fact that there is something wrong, that the facts don’t add up, that Cloud is worse off inside than he had been when she found him shaking and shivering in the rain at a train station in Midgar.

All it does is draw her closer to him, a magnetism erupting that keeps them from being apart for too long.

That night, they make camp in a quiet forest, the night still and the air crisp and cool enough to raise bumps on her arms. Their tents go up and their bedrolls unfurl, a campfire brought to life by the flame of Red XIII’s tail.

Cloud hovers at the edge of their camp, arms crossed over the broad firmness of his chest as cool cerulean surveys the line of trees beyond.  He’ll keep first watch, he negotiates with Barret.  He doesn’t say much beyond that.

Tifa can’t fall asleep and she can’t help the way that her mind races, even as Aerith’s soft snoring at her side reminds her of all of the exhaustion and tired aches in her body.  Her mind is consumed by him, wondering why so many pieces of the puzzle he’s presented to them don’t fit with her own memories, why he’s always so surly and detached, why the feel of her chest pressed against his is a memory she can’t let go of and one she craves the sensation of again.

The rest of the group is already fast asleep, and Tifa rises, rolling away from Aerith and brushing off her skirt as she gets to her feet.  She affords a final glance behind her before she trudges through the clearing, grass silently crushed beneath the tracks in her boots.

She finds him leaned up against the trunk of a wide tree at the edge of the cluster of maples and oaks, overlooking the expanse of an open field that leads to the roads that head west.  Their path to Junon is just beyond, Tifa knows.  In the morning, he’ll be leading them in that direction.

“Hey.”

He knows she’s there before she even realizes what she’s doing, stopping a pace away from his side.  He’s sitting with his knees open, arms draped atop them, buster sword at his side in the grass with the rusted hilt just within reach.  

Gloved fingers twitch, and he slides the sword out of the way, moving it to the other side and making space for her.

She crashes into a sparkling oasis of blue when he looks up at her, his eyes infected by the beacons of light in the sky above.  They are placid and calm, and the fusion of green - that verdant glow that has frightened and worried her since she first found him - seeps away little by little as he drinks in her appearance.  

“Hey,” Tifa responds timidly.

Cloud lowers his right arm from his leg, gesturing lightly to the open space beside him.  “Can’t sleep?” he asks.

Tifa swallows, pulling her eyes from his face to glance down at the patch of grass next to him.  Her fingers twitch at her sides.  The last time he asked her that question, she ended up in his arms.

“Not really,” she admits.

She isn’t sure how it happens, exactly, but she’s soon crouching down to his side, hugging her knees in front of her.  She’s aware of the warmth of his body, the heat emanating from him reminding her of how close they had been to one another just a couple of nights ago.  She craves that feeling again, realizing that the yearning for it has only doubled inside of her since the moment she told him he was hurting her and he released her.

Cloud leans back, positioning his arm behind her, against the tree.  It opens up his body to her, offering her a little more space to close between them.  She eyes it, turning her head slightly towards him, and she catches his eyes on her face.

He says nothing, but Tifa can read every word in those azure depths.  There are questions and pleas there, the same fervid desperations and the same emotional need that has been locked away in her own heart these last few days.  He blinks, softness rippling across his features, unspoken understanding blooming in the bright sparkle of blue and green between pale yellow lashes.

She leans in.

His arm that’s behind her raises and falls around her shoulders, crushing her to him.  Tifa wonders if Cloud is aware of his own strength.  His management of it is always so fluid and seamless on the battlefield, his body twisting through every hack and slash with the grace of a ballet dancer.  But in moments like this, he is graceless.  He is clumsy and awkward and too strong, his arm vicing her against a chest that feels like steel.

Tifa doesn’t complain this time, though.  She welcomes the heaviness of his grip, enjoys the way the chills of the night air are chased away by the heat of his body.  He becomes a fortress of protection around her, shielding her from the demons and ghosts that have been following them both from their pasts.  And even though she’s still worried, even though she still questions his recollections of events, she discards the pain that’s become a stamp on her heart, tosses it to the side, and leaves it to be examined when the stars she loves are gone and the sun returns with truth and reality riding its rays.

He smells good, Tifa realizes.  She never thought about it before - the last time she had been this close to him, the only thing she could smell was cinder and ash, the burned, wooden remnants of her home.  But this time, she can smell the faint scent of his sweat that’s blended with clean, un-fragranced soap and that crisp, earthy note that comes from the mako in his blood.  It wraps around her like a pleasant fog, enveloping her in safety and care, and her head falls to his shoulder, her eyes closing to the world around them and the miseries and concerns that she’s been carrying.  He holds her through the night, and Tifa doesn’t know if he ever finds sleep or not.

All she knows is that he’s there.

.

.

.

The next time it happens, they’re above the open sea.  Tifa’s stuffed into the tight confines of an infantry uniform, knee pads and shoulder guards uncomfortably restricting, her chest compacted under heavy straps and her waist cinched by leather belts.  It makes her feel sorry for all of the poor teenagers she remembers seeing in the slums who were tucked into this same hallmark of tyranny.

Wearing this uniform reminds her of how this all began, of how she found herself crossing the ocean to the other side of the world.  She remembers them coming to her village and following her into the mountains, remembers them guarding the reactor, remembers dragging one away from the snarls of a dragon’s claws after he tried to save her life.  She remembers them patrolling the slums, remembers the one who she watched bleed out from his throat right in front of her very eyes, a casualty of the war they were embroiled in even though he thought he’d chosen the right side.

She tries to tear it from her mind, but it’s been bothering her ever since she stood between Aerith and Yuffie in the locker room as they pulled on these disguises.  The collapse of the Sector Seven plate had only been one shard of her guilt, but she knew that the glass had already been shattered all around her, and every bit of distance they traveled further away from Midgar fills her with the reminder of what their passion for revenge has wrought.

She’s spent most of her time above deck, Aerith at her side, listening as she shared little bits of her life with her.  They’ve grown close over the last few days, both of them using their time traveling together to unearth one another’s pasts. It’s small comfort, being able to open up to someone a little bit, even if there are some things that Tifa knows she’ll never divulge.

Now, though, the sun has gone down and they are still hours from the opposite shore, nothing but gentle waves of endless blue surrounding them.  They’ve managed to get this far undetected on the Shinra vessel, and Tifa relaxes a little as night falls, some of the tension slipping from her shoulders. Aerith ventures below deck with Yuffie to nap, and Tifa declines to join them, needing air and needing him.

She knows Cloud is still up here, seeing him head past the bridge towards the ship’s stern just a little while ago.  She ventures in that direction, keeping her wits about her as she passes a couple of grunts in similar uniforms, the enemy always afoot.

She finds him leaning over the railing, looking out at the sea below as it races away from them, Junon and its canon now fully disappeared from their rearview.  She only knows it’s him from his gait and the lean lines of his body, and as her heart pumps a little faster, Tifa realizes that she would know his physique anywhere, no matter what he’s wearing.

Even though she pads in his direction quietly, he turns, already aware of her presence.  She slows a pace, stopping a few feet in front of him, and he drops his arms from where they’re crossed over his chest, opening himself up to her.  He’s not wearing his helmet, and the breeze is ruffling his hair, leaving it to shine like platinum under the moonlight above.  His eyes narrow, watching her carefully, and they scan her from head to toe in an effort to identify her.

Tifa stops, chancing a careful glance around before she reaches up and pulls her own helmet away.  She clutches it at her side, and she watches as Cloud’s entire countenance visibly relaxes, the green pulse around his pupils dimming.

“Tifa,” he says, his voice low and light and carrying over the splash of the ocean against the ship’s starboard.

She doesn’t respond - for some reason, every time he calls her name like that, it sets loose a sense of incoherence inside of her.  She feels her cheeks warm, and even the sting of the cool ocean breeze can’t dull the excitement that his attention unleashes inside of her.

Slowly, Tifa saunters up to him, finding a place at his side.  His eyes follow her the entire way, his body turning to face her until she is right beside him.  She can feel the burn of those mako blues on her face and on her body that is cramped into this uncomfortable uniform.  It doesn’t help the way that she’s already blushing like mad, and she hopes that he can’t see it with the darkness around them.

Despite the embarrassment that her feelings are sending in a tumble inside of her, Tifa can’t bear to be away from him.  They haven’t spoken all day, and the day was long.  She’s tired, and she misses him.

Badly.

“The others have gone below deck to sleep,” she says after a beat passes between them and all she can hear is the crash of the sea.  

“Most of the crew has already taken it down for the night,” Cloud states observantly.  “There’s just a couple on the other side of the bridge who are on night watch.”

Tifa nods, placing the helmet at her feet.  For whatever reason, her heart is almost as loud as the sea, and it would be easy for her to say goodnight and find a quiet place to rest.

But she can’t be away from him.

“Everything okay?” he asks when the silence stretches on for too long.

“Yeah,” Tifa responds, turning to face him.  In the darkness, his eyes seem to glow, but the mako in them has receded.  It’s the blue that she remembers from her most cherished memories that’s piercing her now, and its color draws her near until she’s leaning against him.

Cloud notices her closeness and immediately draws her in with an arm around her shoulders, and Tifa completes the hold with an arm around his waist.  Her right breast squishes against his chest, and even with these claustrophobic uniforms that they’re both wearing, the contact sends a spark throughout her body that crashes between her thighs.

Cloud is looking down at her.  “Funny,” he comments, a teasing edge in his voice that has her quirking an eyebrow.  “You make this shitty uniform look better than anyone.”

She’s blushing again, instantly turning away from his smirk and schooling her gaze on the navy blue depths below.  She can’t bite back the smile that stretches her lips, though.  Cloud’s propensity to flirt so casually catches her off guard every time. She doesn’t know what’s changed in the years that faded between them, and she wonders what kinds of experiences he’s had while he’s been away.  The Cloud she remembers was too shy to even look her in the eye when he asked her to meet him on the water tower, but this Cloud has no problem letting those cobalt beacons pin her to the ground when he compliments her with such effortlessness.

She brushes past his praise, even though it has lit up parts of her body that she’d rather not acknowledge. “Think we’ll be in Costa Del Sol soon?” she asks, hoping to thwart the emergence of her feelings for this boy for a little while longer.

Cloud turns to face her fully now, letting both arms pull her in.  She wonders when they crossed the boundary into a space where this closeness happens with such unspoken ease.  But she doesn’t fight it, and she leans in, accepting him with her arms around his narrow waist.

“Early morning is my guess,” Cloud answers.  “The climate is already starting to shift.  You should get some rest.  Head down with the others, Tifa.  I’ll keep watch here.”

“I want to stay with you,” she blurts.

One of Cloud’s eyebrows quirks, but otherwise, he wears an unreadable mask.  Tifa can’t help but stare up at him, feeling the cyclone in her belly escalate until it is in her chest and her heart is racing and loud.  She hates it, because she’s pressed right up against him and she knows he can feel it, can probably hear it, too.

He doesn’t say anything as he studies her face for a long moment, and Tifa realizes he’s reading her.  He knows her better than anyone, she knows, and he gleans it all from his senses, from his eyes on her face and his hands on her body, from the sound of every breath she releases.

She wishes she could say the same.

He nods, and wordlessly, he begins to crouch, pulling her with him.  Tifa falls pliant, dropping to her knees at his side.  She’s content to lean against him again the way that she did nights ago, the last time she remembers getting a night of restful sleep.

But he’s pulling on her arms, trying to arrange her into a different position.  She doesn’t resist, despite the way that curiosity bubbles up inside of her.  He’s pulling her into his lap, she realizes, her cheeks bright and burning like the sun.  He spreads his knees and centers her between them, and his arms wrap around the front of her body, holding her tight and holding her close.

Tifa can’t help the shiver that runs like an electrical current through her body, her back flush against the solid wall of his torso.  He responds by giving her a little squeeze, but once again, he underestimates his strength.  She hears her bones crack, but she doesn’t complain because he’s nuzzling the side of her throat with his nose. Tifa doesn’t care how many boundaries they’ve crossed.  All she wants is to feel like this forever.

“You sure you’re okay, Teef?” he asks her, and his breath is so hot against her skin that her pulse quickens.  His voice has taken on that gentleness that she never hears unless they are alone, and she knows that it’s only for her.  It makes her feel special, and the sound rides a slow vibration across her body, stiffening her nipples and raising the hair on her arms, pulsing between her thighs. His hands have dropped to her wrists, and he’s running them up and down her forearms, inspiring warmth and inspiring her fantasies, ones she’s been forced to face over the course of the last couple of weeks.  Tifa folds her legs under her and curls into his hold, wishing away the layers of this stupid uniform that keep them from being skin to skin.

“I’m okay,” is all she can manage, her voice so tiny she can barely hear it over the waves below.

Cloud does something then.  He presses his lips to her cheek, leaving her with a kiss that burns.  It shocks her, and as he drags the softness of his pretty mouth across her flesh, leaving her with a final peck against her earring where it dangles from her lobe, Tifa feels a wave of pleasure wash over her entire body.  She feels herself staining her underwear, and her cheeks are tinged by the sudden blood rush that is hitting her.  If he has any idea of what he’s doing to her, he doesn’t let on.

“I’m here,” he whispers in her ear.  “Get some sleep, Tifa.”

There’s a lustful possession in the way he says her name, and feeling the stiffness of his crotch behind her, Tifa realizes she’s affecting him the same way he affects her.  Kissing her face is the farthest he’ll allow it to go, but Tifa knows doubtlessly that something’s changed.

Irrevocably, she hopes.

She settles and lets herself lean into it. Cloud is hers, in ways she can’t say out loud, but he’s still here, the way he said he would be and the way he promised.  The stars sparkle in a sky that’s as purple as it is black, and it spills glitter all across the sea.  They are the last things that Tifa sees before she closes her eyes, inhaling the fresh scent of saltwater as she melts into Cloud’s hold.

She sleeps.

.

.

.

After that, they steal moments when they can - she leans against him in front of the flames of the Cosmo Candle, even holds his hand when they pass through the gates of Nibelheim, uncovering a pristine village that they both know should be ash. He meets her atop the water tower where he made his promise to her, and he reaffirms it with his arms around her and his lips on her forehead, letting her weep through the misery of memories that bleed and remind them both of what could have been and what will never be.

But they’ve had the luxury of inns and taverns throughout their journey, and Tifa always rooms with the girls.  They don’t share a bed, not daring to arouse the suspicions of their friends any more than they are stirred as it is.  They don’t have another opportunity to sleep together until days later, after they’ve passed through Mt. Nibel and they face another hundred miles to hike before they make it to Rocket Town.

Their party has grown by that point, and so they set up a real camp, a full fire blazing in its center.  Tifa cooks a meal from the rations they’ve collected, and they share rum from a canteen that Barret passes around while he and Aerith and Yuffie keep the conversation alive.  Vincent abandons them by the time the sky is black, and the girls are giggling and tipsy.  Tifa wants to join in on their camaraderie, but she’s still wearing the burden of their visit to Nibelheim, still can’t climb through the fog of sadness that has infected her heart. 

Cloud sits at her side, quiet the entire time. When their group is finally spent, the girls passing out in their sleeping bags inside their tents, Barret snoring at the farthest edge of their encampment and Red curled up in a ball in front of the fire, he turns to her.

“Ready for bed?”

The softness is in his voice again, and it’s carried by a suggestiveness that makes Tifa press her knees together.  She turns to him, her heart starting to pick up speed, and it careens out of beat when their eyes meet.  He’s looking at her expectantly, and she nods in response to his query.

Cloud pushes up to his feet, extending a hand to her.  She accepts it, and she rises, following him when he leads her towards his tent and leaving hers abandoned where it sits in a cluster with the girls on the opposite side of the fire.

They duck inside, and Tifa can’t slow the pace of her heart, can’t stop the way that her palms begin to sweat.  It’s even darker inside the tent, but she can see the bounce of starlight through its fabric. Cloud has already laid out his bedroll, and the blankets are strewn to one side.

He crouches and sits, unzipping his boots.  He removes his pauldron and harness, shoving all of it to one side.  Tifa sits across from him, and unsure of what else to do, unlaces her boots and dismantles her own armor.

Cloud is pulling away his gloves when their eyes meet in the darkness.  His left wrist is wrapped to the elbow in thick white gauze, and having never seen him without his gloves and armor, the sight catches Tifa’s attention.  Sliding her compression sleeves off to the side, she folds her legs under her and looks up at him as he rubs his wrist, almost as if in pain.

“Why is your arm bandaged like that?” she can’t help but ask.

Cloud is looking down at the offending arm, and he clenches his hand, flexing the muscles of his entire forearm.  Tifa studies his hands, and she realizes that they are beautiful.  His fingers are long and his skin looks soft, even though she can see the callouses under his palms.

His eyes narrow, a pinched expression crossing his face.  He refuses to meet eyes with her.

“I…” he starts, and Tifa watches his brows furrow further.  “Just an injury.  I usually let it breathe at night.”

He stops there, and Tifa feels the anxiety of his words unspool, thickening the air in this tiny tent that they are sharing.  It’s a little bit suffocating, and Tifa realizes that she’s become as in tune with his feelings as he is with hers.

All she wants to do is make him feel better.

She reaches forward, taking his wrist in her hand.  His are so much larger than hers are, and she realizes it truly when she sees them side by side like this, both of them finally gloveless.  Tifa scoots closer to him, and in the confines of this tiny tent, she’s nearly on top of him.  His breath hitches, but he doesn’t move, and Tifa is instantly comforted by his warmth that she can feel as she draws near.

“Let me help,” she says softly.

Cloud doesn’t protest, just relaxes his arm and lets it fall in her lap.  She knows that he’s watching her face when she brings her fingers to the strip of bandaging, knows he’s watching her intently as she unwraps it.

She works slowly, because her hands are trembling and her heart is racing.  She’s close to Cloud again in a way she’s been dreaming about since the night on the boat, and there’s something uniquely intimate about this act that she’s performing, stripping away this thin barrier that has shielded a vulnerability of his from her and everyone else. That he’s letting her in this close warms her soul, and Tifa feels the firefight of excitement dance throughout her body, realizing that almost all of the walls that Cloud had erected when they first reunited have melted away.

He’s always there for her, Tifa thinks.  Let her be there for him, too.

She unravels the bandaging and drops it off to the side with his gloves. Cloud’s no longer watching her face, instead has dropped his gaze and is looking away.  But Tifa is staring at his arm, unable to resist the impulse to reach out and run her fingers gently across his flesh.

The skin there is broken, puckered in places as if he had been stabbed and clawed at, maybe even prodded at with needles.  She can see the remnants of a faded blue and yellow bruise beneath the scabs, and Cloud flexes his hand again, bubbling his vein against his skin, his muscles straining.  

“What happened?” she asks him.

Cloud shrugs and his eyes lift again to meet hers.  There’s a pain living there that stabs at her, and Tifa realizes the hurt is far deeper than the surface of those wounds.  It comes from something deep inside of him, connected to his inability to recall certain memories, attached to hopelessness and a sense of loss and darkness he’s been muddled in since she discovered him in the rain.

It breaks Tifa’s heart.

She wants to take that pain away.  Without thinking, Tifa bends down, dropping her lips to his forearm.  She kisses all along the scars and the damage, every press gentle and soft.  She hears Cloud emit a tiny, surprised sound that is almost a sigh, but she doesn’t stop.  His skin is impossibly warm under her mouth, and Tifa suddenly wants to devour him.

Moments pass with her adoring him with affection this way before Cloud stops her, his free hand coming to her chin.  He pulls her gently, and Tifa sits back up, letting her eyes meet his.  Their faces are only inches apart at this point, and she can feel the heat of his breath when his lips part.

“Thank you,” he whispers to her before he kisses her.

Tifa doesn’t realize what’s coming until it happens - he leans in quickly, and then, his lips are on hers.  She feels the gentle press of his mouth on hers, and his lips are so impossibly soft that it feels like a dream, as if it isn’t real.  They are warm and so is Cloud, his arms falling around her body and pulling her into the heat of his embrace.

It’s Tifa’s first kiss, and it’s with Cloud, the boy she’s wanted to kiss since she was thirteen.  This thought flutters through her mind and she wonders idly if it’s his too, if he’s wanted to kiss her as long as she has wanted to share this simple act of affection with him.  Her thoughts spin, thousands of possibilities bubbling up her insecurities, but they are scattered when his too-strong arms squeeze and crush her against him, her ribcage feeling the brunt of it.

He doesn’t demand too much, even though Tifa can feel the tightly wound tension in his body that tells her he is eager for more.  Cloud is always so gentle with her, and even now, he doesn’t part his mouth too much or invade hers with his tongue, as badly as she wants to feel it.  All she feels is the heat of his lips and the hot line of wetness between them, and her core clenches, because she wants more more more.

She’s always wanted more with Cloud, and now their relationship is truly teetering beyond a border where, maybe, just maybe, despite the trauma and the tragedies that they share, she might be able to find it.

They break apart after a moment, and Cloud offers her the slightest hint of a smirk.  It’s warm, but Tifa sees the smugness behind it, and she knows he’s feeling a sense of triumph at stealing that first kiss from her.  It’s okay, because she feels the same.

His eyes pass over her body where she’s crouched in front of him, and Tifa doesn’t miss how they’ve shadowed into a midnight blue, the fervency of quiet lust embedded within.  It sets off the throb between her thighs, and she realizes that her nipples have hardened, and she’s eternally grateful that it’s too dark in here for him to notice such a detail.

She hopes.

“We should try to get some sleep,” he says tacitly, carefully pulling on her arms to guide her to lay down.

They settle next to each other on the bedroll, Tifa’s heart crashing like the hooves of horses against pavement inside her chest.  She rolls to her side, facing the flaps of the tent, which are slightly parted and let in a leak of starlight.  She curls into herself protectively, her body still alight from Cloud’s lips on hers.  She’s trying to tamp down her excitement, but there’s no denying the way that Cloud works her up.  She’s wet and pulsing between her thighs, her breasts are aching, and her heart hurts.

She wants him.

Cloud settles behind her, and she feels the firm wall of him and all of the heat he brings with him.  It doesn’t help the way that she is throbbing, but it’s worsened when he presses the front of his body to the back of hers and wraps one arm around her.  The other falls above her head, caging her against him, and Tifa is flooded by a blend of feelings, of safety and comfort and desire that threads through it all.

“Goodnight, Tifa,” he whispers into her ear, his breath skirting over her skin.  She can’t avoid the impulse to sigh in response, and she leans back, wanting to feel all of him.

And all of him is hard.

His chest, his abs, his bicep that is curled around her, his hand splaying over the exposed flesh of her belly - all of it is like a block of iron.  But it’s the hardest part of him that has Tifa’s attention, the stiffness of his erection pressing into her bottom and setting her bones on fire.  She bites into her bottom lip, feeling dizzy as the implications hit her.  She can’t stop herself from rolling her hips a little, feeling it jerk against her.  Cloud lets out a groan, dark and low and deep in his throat.

He pulls the covers over them and holds her closer.  His lips are suddenly on the back of her neck, trailing their way up and down, adoring her with soft kisses.  Tifa melts, squirming against him as she feels her clit throb every time he christens her with another blissful press of affection. She rubs her thighs together, but its no relief.  She’s wearing too many layers, and the parts of him that she wants so badly are nowhere near the parts of her she needs him the most.

“Go to sleep, Tifa,” he scolds her gently when she grinds back into him again.  He’s hooked his fingers under her tank and bra, and they brush against the underside of one breast as he whispers over her shoulder.  The combination of his words and his touch is enough to turn her into putty, and she bites even deeper into her lip to keep a moan from escaping.  This is embarrassing enough as it is, and her cheeks are on fire as she realizes that he knows exactly how she is feeling at this moment.  Knowing how perceptive Cloud is, she wonders if he knows how deep her desire for him runs, leaving her to ruin another pair of panties as she lays with fire running through her veins.

The only consolation, Tifa thinks, is that she knows he wants her too, every muscle in her belly snapping taut when he idly passes his thumb over her nipple.

But that’s the end of it.  He lets his hand rest just below her breast, but he doesn’t continue to touch her anymore suggestively after that.  He just holds her tight, his body a firm fortress behind her as he spoons her, his knees bent against hers.  He leaves his final kiss against her hair.

Tifa lets out a slow sigh, hoping some of the heated need that he’s wrought out of her will disappear so she can sleep.  Cloud is breathing quietly, letting himself fall into a light doze.  Tifa glances out of the gap in the tent’s flaps again, her eyes hooking onto the swath of galaxies that burn above.

She doesn’t just have a deep-seated crush on Cloud that started in the throes of girlhood.  She doesn’t just find him mind-blowingly attractive, doesn’t just appreciate his pretty face and infectious aquamarine eyes and that lean, chiseled body.  She doesn’t just care about him and worry about the way that he has changed.

She is in love with him.

.

.

.

It’s days later when Tifa gets to sleep next to Cloud again.

This time, they are both flushed when they stop running together, bright lights and loud music a cacophony around them.  Tifa’s head is swimming, she’s had too many cocktails and her cheeks are bright.  She’s giggling, and the sound is so foreign to her, but then, so is the happiness she feels as she squeezes his hand tight.

They’re at the Gold Saucer, and they are on their date.  The date that Tifa had shyly tried to set up for them back in Sector Seven that never materialized because Shinra and all of its madness got in their way.  But they had a reprieve during their second visit to the Gold Saucer, and while every part of her was brimmed over with diffidence at the prospect, she was burning from the inside out with desire for Cloud.

So she gently brought it up again - shyly asking him if he wanted to spend the night finally celebrating their reunion the way that they had agreed just a few short weeks ago.  She hadn’t been prepared for the way that Cloud smiled and nodded eagerly, and without a moment’s hesitation, she was pulling him by the wrist and he was following her with his eyes trained on the back of her body.

They dance and they drink, and they hold hands as they make their way through the squares.  They’d both shed their gloves and armor before they went out, and Tifa is comforted by the firm warmth of his hand clasped around hers.  They play games at Wonder Square and Cloud is terrible at everything except motorcycling and snowboarding.  Tifa laughs when he fouls at basketball, and when it’s her turn, she wins a stuffed chocobo and gives it to him, his face as bright and red as a honeycrisp apple.

It’s late when they finally return to the hotel, and Tifa is so tipsy and full of unbridled joy that she isn’t even perturbed by the ghosts this time.  Cloud’s no longer holding her hand but holding her waist, keeping her close to him.  She likes the way it feels, subtle notes of possession beneath his gloveless fingertips that dig into the soft curve of flesh under her ribs.  People notice them as they walk by together, and Tifa catches their smiles.  They must think that they are a couple, and she wishes that they were.

She wonders.

Cloud walks her to her room.  She’s sharing with Aerith and Yuffie, and she hesitates by the door.  He lowers his hand from her waist and scratches the back of his head, and Tifa realizes that his cheeks are stained pink when he finally looks at her.

“I, uh, had fun tonight,” he manages, the highlights on his cheeks brightening and causing Tifa to flush in tandem.

“Me too,” she blurts, and suddenly, Tifa doesn’t want this night to end.  She doesn’t want to go in her room, doesn’t want to deal with Aerith and Yuffie’s line of questions, who both insisted they were going to stay up and wait for her so they could hear all about it.  She just wants to stay with him, to feel his lips again and to kiss him the way that they’d kissed a few nights ago outside of Nibelheim, the place where their pasts and futures had burned.

The Cosmo Canyons she’d sipped all night must be getting to her because she can’t stop herself from acting on impulse.  She rises up on her toes, clumsily reaching for his shoulders, and she kisses him.

Cloud is surprised - she hears it in the little gasp he makes - but after that, his hands are now both on her waist, holding her and keeping her from tumbling or falling over as she leans into him.  This time, their kiss starts as a soft press but quickly deteriorates into something messy and hot and swift as Tifa darts her tongue out.  Cloud doesn’t shy away from her advances, and he gaps his lips, letting her in.  Their tongues meet, and the instant the tip of his touches hers, Tifa feels the familiar, white-hot spark hit the most sensitive parts of her body - a sizzle and a zap across her tits and along the seam of her pussy.  She presses her body against his, aching for him.

They’re embroiled in a wet twist of passion like that for a moment longer, and finally needing air, Tifa breaks away.  Cloud’s eyes are hooded when he opens them again, and the swirl of colors in his irises is bright.  Tifa blinks, thinking she can see the stars there, like diamonds in the sky.

He glances at the door to her room, then back to her face.  Tifa knows what he is thinking, because she’s thinking the same.

She nods.

Cloud lowers his hands from her waist and takes her hand, and he turns away, leading her down the carpeted hall.  She ignores the spooky music that drawls from the overhead speakers and the flicker of candlelight from the torches burrowed into the walls.  Tifa ignores everything around her, except for the boy in front of her, the boy that she has loved for so, so long, who makes her body sing, who makes her feel alive, and who makes her forget how broken and damaged she is inside.

Cloud takes her to his room at the end of the hall.  He hates bunking with the other guys. Barret snores too loudly, Nanaki is always underfoot, Cid fills the air with smoke and Vincent just disappears anyway.  So he has his own room, and Tifa is suddenly more grateful for this than anything in recent memory.

He pulls her inside and locks the door behind them.  The room is small, but it’s furnished like all the others, blood-red carpets and dim candlelight, the bed outfitted in black iron that matches the grates on the windows.  The curtains are thrown open, inviting the multitude of colors that shine in from beyond, the Gold Saucer a place that never sleeps.

It makes her a little sad, because with all the light pollution here, she can’t see the stars.

Cloud seems to know what she’s thinking, because he closes the curtains, shadowing the room and keeping the kaleidoscope of rainbow colors at bay.  He turns to face her, and Tifa can see that his lips are still wet from their kiss.

“Tifa…”

His voice is so low, and it reawakens the ache that she felt stirred moments ago in the hallway.  He steps closer to her, and her head swims as she tries to remember how many drinks she actually had tonight.  She’s not sure if it’s the alcohol or the way that she’s so crazy about this boy that’s making her dizzy, but either way, she doesn’t complain or fight it when his hands come up to her face and he’s kissing her again.

This time, there’s a wildness in their connection.  That Cloud initiates this kiss colors the encounter differently, and his possession and dominance contribute to the sudden frenzy they find themselves in. Tifa moans into his mouth, relenting when his tongue finds hers, dancing against it, its firm point sliding against the softest part of hers.  She’s getting wet again, and her clit is throbbing and she’s pulsing from the inside out for him, finding herself desperate for relief from a tenseness that’s been building for weeks.

He knows, because he breaks their kiss and picks her up with his hands under her ass and drops her on the center of the bed.  She bounces lightly against the mattress, and already she misses the soft heat of his mouth.  But he’s crawling over her, his body a cage that shields her from the rest of the world, and all she can see is him, his beautiful porcelain face and ultramarine eyes and soft blond hair.

Her knees fall open.

Cloud isn’t one to rush, even though his breathing has quickened to the point that he’s nearly panting.  He pauses as he hovers, the tops of his cheeks pink, and Tifa blushes too as she realizes that his eyes are roving her.  He’s drinking her in, appreciating everything she has to offer as she lays so wantonly below him.  She feels unmasked by him, as if all her secrets and the sins of her desires have been laid bare.

“You’re beautiful,” he professes in a whisper.

It’s not the first time he’s told her this, but she’s blushing even harder nonetheless.  The last time he shared this sentiment with her, he’d been smirking and smug.  But this time, he’s sincere and soft, and the look in his eyes betrays something like reverence.

It melts her, only makes the electricity that’s sparking every nerve ending burn harder, because she realizes that he doesn’t only want her, but he needs her.

Maybe he even loves her.

Tifa doesn’t have time to ruminate on that too much, because Cloud is kissing her again.  It’s just as desperate as it had been moments ago, but he’s working even more purposefully now.  Every curl and twist of his tongue works with the aim to please, and his hand is on her breast, giving it a careful squeeze.

Somehow, Tifa is coming out of her clothes.  Her top and bra are discarded, both pulled over her head and tossed aside.  She tries to cover herself - she’s never let anyone see her naked before, and she doesn’t want him to see the nasty scar that Sephiroth left her with.  But Cloud kisses her again and whispers in her ear.

“Every part of you is beautiful,” he tells her, pulling her arms away and dashing away her insecurities with a kiss to her scar.

He thumbs a nipple while his lips reconnect with hers, and Tifa rolls her hips up towards his, feeling the stiff ridge of his erection trapped at the front of his pants.  The movement causes him to groan, and Cloud pinches her nipple, dropping his lips to her neck.  Tifa gasps and curves her head to one side, freeing up the expanse of her throat so that he can suck and kiss and nip at the column of it.  She arches her back, feeling her clit throb desperately while her panties grow damp. 

Cloud moves lower.  The tips of his fingers draw circles over both nipples, and his mouth is now at her clavicle.  His touch is so listless and soft that it drives Tifa wild, her body writhing in time with every strum of his rough hands against her sensitive peaks.  She’s leaking and she wants to feel more, an ache below that she’s familiar with and has only ever tried to satisfy with her own hesitant touch.

But now she has him, the boy who has always inspired these feelings in her, and she needs him to satisfy it. Badly.

He must know because he’s moving further south.  His mouth finds her nipples, sucking each one into firm peaks until she’s forced to moan, unable to stop the way fire screams along her limbs from the sensation.  Tifa never paid much attention to her breasts before, but being with Cloud these last few weeks made her painfully aware of the way he could make them ache, and his kisses and sucks and nips have her pussy so wet and the pleasure so bright inside her tummy that she wants to cry.

Cloud’s hands find her waist, working at the buckles of her skirt.  He’s a little bit clumsy and uncoordinated, but he isn’t discouraged by this fact.  In fact, he only grows more demanding any time he meets the resistance of leather or fabric, and by the time he gets to her panties, he’s tearing them.

Tifa shivers when she is fully naked and exposed under him.  He hooks his fingers into her stockings, toying with the fabric as he lowers himself between her thighs.  He glances up at her, his eyes glowing bright with the viridian blaze of mako, and she feels her cheeks burn when their gazes connect.  He smirks and she bites her lips, and then he drops his lines of sight to her spread core.

Tifa isn’t sure how to react.  She’s never been like this with anyone before, in fact, she can count the number of times she’s indulged her own impulses on one hand, every time connected with thoughts about him.  But she’s let it get to this point - naked and trembling under him - and she realizes that there is no turning back and despite her fear, she wants this, no, she needs it, so, so badly.

“Beautiful,” he praises her for the third time that night.

Tifa can’t handle it.  She blushes so brightly that she has to cover her face with her hands, unable to stare down at him and his smirk any longer.  Cloud just kisses her hip bone in response, though, and the next thing she knows, he’s touching her.

He starts by petting her folds, his touch gentle and careful as if he’s afraid to hurt her.  The tentative awkwardness of his movements tells Tifa that he’s just as inexperienced as she is, and though she finds this difficult to believe, she has to admit that she is comforted by it.  She wants to be his one and only, because she already knows he’s the only one she’ll ever have.

Cloud grows a little more curious, experimenting with the touch of his fingers on her.  Tifa closes her eyes and waits, hoping desperately that he’ll find her aching button, and soon.  He dips a little inside of her, just enough to drag out a thick stream of her wetness so he can roll it up and over her slit.  

Just a little higher, she screams in her mind.

Cloud kisses the inside of her thigh, and Tifa can’t help the heavy sigh that falls from her lips.  Everything about Cloud is so soft, even his kisses so close to an intimate part of her are handled with a gentleness that makes her dissolve.  But when his finger raises and finally finds her clit, she rewards him with a bright moan.

“Cloud,” she calls, lifting her head from the pillow, her nub filled with blood and engorged by now.  “Right there, please…”

Tifa’s voice breaks off into a whine, and her body is as tight as a bowstring as she waits.  Cloud offers her a hint of a smile, holding her eyes as two firm fingers stroke the side of her clit.  He draws circles over it, and Tifa tosses her head back again, closing her eyes and letting out a dark, needy whimper.

Cloud takes great joy in playing with her clit, Tifa realizes, and the more sounds she makes, the bolder he gets.  He wets the pads of his fingers inside of her, Tifa arching her back as he presages a taste of the fullness another part of him can provide her. He runs his fingers in a downward line over her sore, aching spot.  He swipes his fingers across it in back and forth movements, and Tifa tosses her head from side to side, feeling a puddle of lava surge deep in her belly.  He rubs the tip of her clit where it peeks out at him from beneath its hood, and Tifa is whining again, chewing her lip in an attempt to keep from crying out too loudly. 

Cloud stops, staring up at her, and Tifa feels her core clench and her clit pulse in anticipation.  She opens her eyes again and stares down at him through her lashes, her chest rising and falling with every quick, heavy breath that she takes.  Cloud’s eyes meet hers with a sparkle, and he kisses her inner thigh just once before he leans in and presses his lips to her clit.

Tifa rolls her hips and lets out another loud moan, and Cloud shushes her, his breath and the vibrations of his voice attacking her hot, swollen nub.  It makes everything worse, and Tifa raises her arm to her face, biting into the flesh above her wrist to stifle her noise.  Cloud is only encouraged by her responsive display, because he holds her thighs down and open with both hands before his tongue goes to work on her clit.

It’s impossible for Tifa to silence her sounds.  Even muffled by her arm, her keens and whimpers escape, his name floating from her lips in huffed intervals.  Cloud is lapping at her clit, massaging it up and down with the flat of his tongue, flicking it back and forth with the firm tip of it.  The coil in her belly tightens, and Tifa plunges into the feeling, letting the release she’s wanted to share with him for weeks now build in every muscle.  She strains to reach for it as she feels the wires of electricity expand inside of her nerves, tears pooling the corners of her eyes as it draws close.  Her whines of his name become unintelligible, and Cloud notices, because he looks up at her and smirks before he begins to suck on her clit.

That is all it takes.  The crescendo quickly builds, and Tifa feels herself on the edge of the cliff, ready to fall.  The sensation of his lips wrapped so tightly around that tiny, sensitive part of her, working so feverishly to please her, only helps the euphoria peak that much more quickly.  She’s wanted this so bad for so long that now that she has it, her mind has whited out with disbelief that blends with the pleasure he spoils her with.  Cloud hums against her, and Tifa breaks, crying his name in a burst as her fingers surge into his hair and she holds him there while she rides every wave.

At some point, it ends.  Tifa is spent, her breathing ragged and thin.  Cloud pulls his lips away from her skin with a small pop, and it leaves her trembling.  He crawls up beside her, taking her into his arms as he kisses her forehead and she tries to remember who and where she is.

“You okay?” he asks her, and she realizes these are her two favorite words in the world.

“Mhm,” is all she musters.  She leans closer to him, and when their bodies collide, she realizes he is still as hard as a rock against her hip.  It brings her back to reality a little bit, and she looks up at him, finding his eyes still wild with desire even though he hasn’t made another move yet.

It’s her turn to smirk.  Tifa offers him the most playful look she can garner, her inhibitions blunted by the remnants of alcohol in her blood and the afterglow of her orgasm that has her still trembling.  She leans in to kiss him, his lips slick and tasting like her.  She crawls over him, forcing him to lie back, her hands dropping to drag his sweater out of his pants so she can pull it over his head.  Cloud moves in tandem with her, letting her take control.

Tifa tosses the sweater aside and doesn’t shy away from admiring Cloud’s sculpted torso.  Plenty of times she’d been pressed close enough to him to feel every smooth line of muscle here, and she’d be lying if she said she never observed the way his pectorals were defined against the tight fabric of his sweater.  But this is her first time seeing the carved perfection of his body- sinew and muscle smooth and almost architectural in its design, beautiful pale skin puckered with scars that make her own pale in comparison.  She can’t resist the urge to touch, her fingers following the story that his body tells, tracing the slash above his heart.

Cloud’s breathing has grown heavy by now, and Tifa knows that he is eager for her to please him the way he pleased her.  And she intends to, in fact, just the thought of it has her growing warm and wet again despite how sated she is.  She wants to please this man so badly, wants to show him just how much she wants and needs him, how he is everything to her, and how she will do anything to make sure he knows it.

She goes to unbuckle his pants, pulling down his zipper.  Her nerves kick in then, and Cloud senses her hesitation.  His hand comes up to the side of her face, stroking her cheek gently, his fingers catching into the threads of her hair. It calms her, and Tifa exhales, reaching into his boxers and finding his cock.

She blushes as soon as she pulls it out, finding it long and thick and leaking at the tip.  It’s strained from lack of stimulation, its head bright red.  Cloud groans as soon as she touches him, closing his eyes.

Tifa’s never seen anything like this before, has never come close to doing anything like this.  But Cloud’s reactions are enough of a guide for her, and she strokes him with one hand, her heart beating faster and faster the more he moans and lifts his hips from the bed.

It thrills her to know that she is the one to reduce him to a writhing, whining puddle like this.

Wanting to repay his affection, she leans over and takes the head of his cock into her mouth.  She licks away the salty liquid, sliding her tongue between his split.  Cloud moans, and his fingers tighten in her hair.  She lowers her mouth and starts to suck, unsure of what she’s doing but making her best attempt anyway.

Moments pass with Cloud moaning and grunting, and suddenly, he’s pulling her back by her hair and angling his hips away from her.  Confused at first, Tifa leans up and wrinkles her nose, wondering what she’s done wrong.  But then she watches as Cloud empties on the mattress, a thick stream spurting out of him as he quietly moans her name.  Tifa blushes, but she feels like a queen inside.  

Some time passes while he collects himself, and once his breathing has calmed, Cloud reaches for the tissues on the bedside table to clean up his mess.  He rights his pants, then immediately slides closer to Tifa, pulling her close to him.  She’s still naked except for her thigh-highs, and when her breasts press against the warmth of his chest, all she can do is coo and sigh contently.

“You’re amazing, Tifa,” he whispers into her hair as he pulls the sheets around them.

Tifa laughs happily in response.  There are so many things she wants to say, but she’s afraid of every word.  The feelings he’s unearthed in her run deeper than anything she could have imagined before he returned to her in Midgar.  There was no separating herself from Cloud, and she loves him more purely and desperately than she ever thought possible.

She closes her eyes, inhaling his scent, her brain flooded with endorphins.  Now isn’t the time, she thinks.  She’ll tell him soon.

It’s the last time she sleeps with him.

.

.

.

The next time Tifa sleeps with Cloud, she’s weeping.

She’s weeping because he doesn’t respond to her.  He doesn’t look at her, and when his eyes are open, they are dead, the bright lights behind that crash of blue and green extinguished.  He doesn’t smile or smirk, doesn’t quip at her or roll his head to one side or call her name with that gentle softness that sends loose butterflies in her tummy.  He doesn’t cross his arms over his chest or tap his foot in frustration.  And he doesn’t hold her or kiss or touch her, the way that she had come to rely on and crave.

Things had gone downhill after they ventured to the Temple of the Ancients, and the lingering instability that Tifa had detected in Cloud weeks ago careened out of control.  It was followed by a succession of destruction and tragedy, and soon, they lost him.

She’s found him again - in the village of Mideel, locked in a sanitarium. While their friends worry about the world, Tifa makes the decision to worry about him.

He’s the only thing that matters.

She curls up at his side on his gurney, feeling his body tremble beside her.  She’s reminded of the way she laid beside him that first night in the slums, after she found him at the train station, his brain as mako-adled as it is now.  That night, she’d laid him atop her bed, watching his brow crease as he shook with confusion, and she’d laid beside him, praying he would wake out of it.

Now, she lays beside him, thinking about all of the nights that they spent together - the nights they never spoke of once the sun had come up and the stars faded away.  Over the course of that time, Tifa’s feelings bloomed and burst, until she was hopelessly in love with him and wished that she knew how deeply he returned her feelings.  But they both stayed silent, sharing their feelings with touch and never with words.

It had been a mistake, she realizes.

Tifa wraps her arms around Cloud, holding him tight in her arms.  He moans something nonsensical, and tears run in hot trails down her cheeks. Yet she clutches him even harder, refusing to ever let him go, even if he never speaks to her again.

He’s all that matters, and she holds on to the memories of the intimate moments that they’ve shared, all the times they slept at each other’s sides and held one another tight, when their lips were sealed together and their mutual touch brought fire out of their skin.

She wishes they had talked about it.

(Ao3 Link Below)

Comments welcome!

[backwaterheroics]

𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘕𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘌𝘓𝘓 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘗𝘖𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘞𝘙𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖𝘎𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘈 𝘓𝘖𝘛 𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘐𝘌𝘙!

repost, don't reblog!

NAME : rowen

PRONOUNS : she/her/my liege; we is also common i.e. 'we here at strife industries' etc but it's really just for self-reference

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION : carrier pigeon maybe? i'm really bad at all kinds of communication tbqh. we can get some walkietalkies tho & i promise i haven't ever forgotten about u /phil collins voice, u'll be in my heart

chatting on tumblr ims is fine & i do have a discord ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ u can even have my whatsapp if u want, but standard messaging & data rates may apply. talk to ur doctor if rowenix is right for u

NAME OF MUSE(s) : this here is my boy kuraudo sutoraifu-waifu but i've written a few other characters here and there; cloud is the only rp blog i have any semblance of presence on atm tho - he is my forevergirl, my homeslice, my big chalupa. for ffvii specifically, i've also written rp for elena and rufus

BEST EXPERIENCE : you! i've met all my best friends through rp which is probably why i'm still even around in the rps

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS : i don't like it when ppl say they do not like the chara i am literally writing at that moment. so like, if you don't like cloud, why are you here..... we don't have any money... we've got nothin for ya.... pls smash that unfollow button and do not hit the notification bell....,other than that tho, i don't really care. it's the internet. i've seen 4chan

MUSE PREFERENCES : paris hilton voice; i'll take five more of these little blonde bitches; fr tho i like charas who have issues with the self/who have a man vs self literary conflict kinda thing going on. i also like side-chars who don't have a lot of lore coz then i don't have to start from scratch like with an oc, but i still have freedom in the preassembled sandbox u kno?? i don't have time for a rowenverse

PLOTS OR MEMES : spontaneous stuff is easier for me; plotted stuff can get too detailed and then i freak myself out about it bc of anxiety about quality & expectations. that aside, i'll do either. if we go plotted i'd rather go 'lightly plotted' as in we talk about an idea and then just run with it, with minor course corrections as we go should the plane not take off as expected

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : i personally tend to match length but sometimes the words just gotta come out and your one to three liner will have a 500 word reply. i have no preference from what i receive to what i give. it just is what it is and i'm grateful ur even taking the time to spend it with me

BEST TIME TO WRITE : when something else more important needs to get done. we love executive dysfunction. like right now, i should be finishing up a work project for tomorrow's meeting and yet....

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) : our sense of humor is the same, or at least similar... cloud's social awareness is probably better than mine. neither of us talk a lot. is that good enough????

TAGGED BY: vctlan & then everyone i'm following who is still active has already done this i'm pretty sure... so if you haven't been tagged before and u see this, then i'm tagging u ok -- tell me abt u and be my friend

[sparrowandbee]

Introduction | Chapter 1, Part 2

Synopsis: 68 ADD marks the last year that Marian Cartwright is eligible for reaping into The Hunger Games. Will the odds be in her favor? Or will she be made to pay for her luck in the previous six years?

Author’s Note: I decided to split this first chapter up into to sections since I personally prefer to read shorter chapters. Let me know what you’d prefer to read!

Word Count: 1543

The sun was beating down on my face as we stood shoulder to shoulder, the smell of coal always lingering on my loose curly hair and ever blackened hands. Despite only a few clouds obstructing the clear blue sky, even the sunshine couldn’t change the dirty grey landscape of District 12.

It was my seventh reaping and the lingering dread no longer shocked me as it did in the years before. My name was written in 21 times that year- the slips of paper mingling with each other in the glass orb just a few feet from me- but I’d been around long enough to know that it didn’t matter how many names anyone had in there; the Capitol’s cruelty knew no fairness.

I had seen kids as young as 12 and as old as 17 be chosen and met with the same fate. Whether they stepped up in tears or in confidence, they all ended up as a nationally televised corpse.

I looked around at the girls standing with me and recognized a few of them from earlier reapings. There were two who wore a new dress every year, their black hair always in pretty updos. Their father was a mine supervisor, so they clearly had Capitol money. They would giggle and whisper to each other and I’d always caught different boy’s names being tossed around.

To my left were a few girls I’d seen around the mines before. They had always been a quiet trio but held on to each other for the entirety of the event, their knuckles getting bone-white as they squeezed their thin, pale hands.

We each inhabited different worlds within the same small district, but we were united by each July 4th, seeing each other’s familiar faces grow longer and more adult, beating the odds by returning every year, despite the Capitol’s desire to exterminate us. Our own tiny resistance.

The reaping was so quiet when we were 12.

I remember no one dared even whisper. But at 18, everyone acted as though this was just another bureaucratic inconvenience. As a lot of us had started to face real struggles in the latter years of our childhood, the Games just got more distant… more arbitrary. We had real things to worry about now.

I scanned my surroundings out of both habit and boredom. Frankly, most girls looked the same- mousy hair and sunken faces. From the far end of the field I spotted the braided blonde hair of Evaline Wergeld, daughter of a butcher I’d been avoiding since he caught me taking some of his bits at the Hobb. My head snapped back to avoid making eye contact, just as my belly let out a loud rumble.

No one turned around, of course.

Hunger was as much part of District 12’s soundscape as the song of the mockingjays overhead or the rustling of the trees against the breeze. It wasn’t anything to be noticed, particularly not from the scrawny orphan girl.

I was too busy worrying about whether I’d be able to scrap enough coins to eat something at night rather than entertain the thought of being picked out of hundreds of girls- especially since it was my last year being eligible.

I had survived 18 years of strife and self-sufficiency, needing nothing and being noticed by no one. This too would come and pass, like everything else before it, I thought as I stood in the barren yard amidst the other grim girls of District 12.

The mayor began the process with a tedious speech no one paid attention to. Instead I tried to get the coal dust out from under my short, bare fingernails.

“Welcome all and happy Hunger Games!,” the overexcited Capitol representative with voluptuous, undulating red hair exclaimed into the microphone, causing uncomfortable feedback. I don’t remember her name. We got a new presenter nearly every year- no one wanted to be stuck in 12.

I shifted, my newly stolen shoes still uncomfortable. It was strange to be this close to the stage, just three rows away from the pomp which always seemed so distant from the barren landscape. “And as always, may the odds be ever in your favour!” Her Capitol inflexion grated my ears as the wind caught one of the many ruffles on her flowy white dress.

As they did every year, a propaganda video was broadcast on the large screens on either side of the field.

As we did every year, everybody ignored it, preferring to fiddle with braids or straighten a washed-out floral dress.

I looked down and traced the outline of the delicate butterflies on my once-purple threadbare shift dress. It was the only dress I owned, and despite its tattered state, it was the most beautiful thing.

“What a wonderful message from our President Snow!” I looked up to see the announcer smiling widely, showing her blindingly white teeth through her purple lipstick.

“Now we will select one brave young man and woman who will have the honour of representing District 12 in the 68th Hunger Games!” She paused, clearly expecting applause. I sighed, not caring enough to roll my eyes. Rent was due in two days and I couldn’t be evicted again. I may be able to steal some food from the bakery so I can make it in time; everyone seemed to get distracted during the Games.

“Okay, ladies first!” Everything from her mouth was an abundant exclamation, and her words still echoed as her white heels ‘clicked’ and she reached her hand into the large glass bowl. The world went still; I’ve never experienced silence like the reaping, as if everybody’s heartbeats were suspended in unison.

Worry flickered through me then. As much as I tried to reassure myself, the threat was so present, looming over the heads of every child on the field. My stomach hurt not out of hunger but anxious nausea. No one was ever safe.

“And our lucky tribute is…” She stepped back in front of the polished silver microphone, her glittery green and purple eye makeup glistening against the artificial lights as she looked down to read the slip of paper, “Marian Cartwright!”

My name echoed through the yard. My heart dropped as my veins ran with ice, despite the sweat dripping on my brow. The girls standing next to me looked around, not recognizing the name of a seemingly invisible girl.

Seven years and for the last time of course I was made to pay for my survival- a cruel karmic trick for the girl who has nothing to live for.

Fitting. Poetic, even.

The girls around me retreated, probably realizing that I was the only one none of them identified. Slowly, they all held onto each other and moved back, creating a bubble around me, as if they would catch my bad luck if they stood too close.

In my 10 years of solitude, I’ve never felt more isolated, more judged or pitied- or perceived.

I looked up to the screens and found my face already projected on the stage. The announcer never let her smile slip and I cautiously walked towards her, flanked by two peacekeepers. My blood rushed at an inhuman speed, fueled by my anxiety and fear, feeling like I was moving against my will.

The stage lights were brighter up close than they looked from the floor. The announcer gestured her green gloved hand for me to step towards her. I couldn’t stop looking at the texture left by her thick, pale makeup. I could make out every wrinkle and crack on the surface which looked so flawless from far away.

I looked down at the worn brown leather Mary Janes I stole from my last landlady just a month ago. They were too small for me. I didn’t want to see anyone in the crowd, not because I particularly cared about them but because I couldn’t stand their pitiful looks.

Pity from people who never bothered to help.

“Alder Oakley!” I looked up to see the male tribute making his way to the stage, fear so clearly coloured his face. I tried to keep my gaze withdrawn until he stood next to me, to retain some dignity on his walk of shame.

He smelled fresh and clean when he stood next to me. He could probably afford those oils sold on the road by the seamstress. His button-up shirt was off-white and neatly pressed, the seams were all intact, a tell of light wear.

So he had some money to spare, but really, he looked like every other District 12 boy. A bit of musculature from a childhood preparing to work in the mines and a clean-shaven face. There was a bit of dirt on his hair, he was probably cutting wood for fire that morning.

He took my hand in his as the announcer exclaimed our names: “Marian Cartwright and Alder Oakley, your District 12 tributes!” but I kept my eyes down, with no intention of playing along.

With that, my fate was sealed with only the certainty of my imminent death.

—

Next Chapter

Masterlist

[ff7central]

The Never-Ending Road Trip

(6952 words)

by BrownieFox

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death

Relationships: Zack Fair & Cloud Strife Characters: Zack Fair, Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart, Barret Wallace Additional Tags: Time Travel, Time Loop, Temporary Character Death, Zack doesn't stay dead don't worry, Kinda QPR Zack & Cloud, Zack and the very long nine months, On Repeat, mako poisoning, Not Crisis Core Compliant

Summary: Zack dies after getting Cloud to Midgar. But he doesn't stay dead. or Zack is caught in a time loop after freeing both himself and Cloud. Over and over again, Zack talks to Cloud, keeps his friend safe, dies, and hopes for a day when Cloud might even speak.

Recommended by Browniefox who says "Haha this one’s just mine. I don’t think it’s crisis core compliant. Just Zack, trying to get to Midgar with Cloud, while being stuck in a time loop."

Mod note: You are always welcome to recommend your own works!

[iamposhparis]

Shadows of Forever: A Love's Soliloquy

- Paris Ebalobo (05082023)

In the realm of shadows, my love, we reside,

Amidst a world untamed, our souls confide.

Embrace my words, like a soft caress,

For I shall paint a portrait of eternal tenderness.

In this tumultuous realm, uncertainties unfold,

But fear not, my darling, our bond shall hold.

For you, my dearest, shall never stand alone,

By your side, forevermore, my heart has flown.

Though the world may wage its fierce strife,

Our love transcends, beyond mortal life.

Through the chasms of distance, we'll transcend,

Connected by a love that time cannot suspend.

In fleeting moments, our words may fade,

Yet the depths of my love, no silence can invade.

In stillness, I'm with you, my thoughts ignite,

For our souls converse in the language of twilight.

Admittedly, my heart yearns for more,

To be with you daily, like waves upon the shore.

But know, my beloved, this longing pales,

For your presence in my life forever prevails.

When doubt clouds your spirit, and darkness looms,

Remember, my love, amid life's fickle rooms,

You are cherished beyond measure, my dear,

An anchor of solace in this realm of fear.

Hold tight to my promise, a beacon profound,

Through the tempests of life, our love shall resound.

In every whisper of the wind, every vow we make,

You'll always have me, an unwavering embrace.

So fear not, my love, as we navigate the night,

In our hearts, an eternal flame shall ignite.

For through highs and lows, united we shall be,

Bound by a love that defies mortality.

In the echoes of our souls, let my vow ring true,

You'll always have me, forever and anew.

With unwavering devotion, our spirits shall align,

In this eternal dance, your love forever mine.

[libidomechanica]

The clown, the world

A ballad sequence

               I

The boy for man but up! The clown,     the world. For which the sinister, we couple puts together?     You that fond embraced.

               II

Your love reading grace in sweet, something     on the low. Clasp the surf biting thing in that lockt up     Pearls upon the Forty-

second Foot. The reed, till yearned clerks;     but I never comes, to take or leave the floor, can make me     moon of God nor red makes

Love, thou, Mercury, assist my     little bag, we prison walls, and dark, let me alone. Oh     distant stay sets you this,

that health I refuse to move amongst     us out of rules breacher came but thus Orinda     died: heavens did pierced to

trial needs none of your bitter twenty     millionaire: I have its garland we have been, but half;     trust God: see a foreign

lord, service and the struck despairing     star! We had espyed, causlesse gifts to violins which     they filled wife, and the way

a womankind, her list, put there     I have thy despair, which Cupid got no name. I only     can be caught found strange fits

of plant in storm. To tell in which     in your eyes of old this too I know you had gone, a goodly     sung out, appealing

thirst: so, take himself shoulders, the     Garment of black and ne’er was straining the face across a     women. And I, a bird.

               III

From me: hoof after a dew or     denied: from with sun and owed there, as it every springs     his fatter gan to come

aye to Nanie’s cot came in much     for mine a lidless vigil kept, and play, his outward part:     no, not all their words and

sudden sun: o I will fley’d awa     by Phoebus first you stands, as the eye; what only they     dwell is deaths, dere would rocks.

Through to firebrand never saw     the golden lilies of the Heav’n had no cure: the blooming     ban, splashing bath, which of

Natures are like a ball of weeds     with eyes best see, for he hent influence. God topp, als my     breath motion and all Night

Movie Theater, she canker     of your will speak; indeed, in the heart which the heart denied,     but it eats they, so weak.

I give life is golden the fool,     and darken’d into thee. I list not even; her voices     call not suffering wonder

whose spirit than all too near. Her     hair were it not go, thought of a sometime the day is little     while my head body

grief and the golden wishes me     none shepherds pipe and the air. In that sunset; O, a shout     really a breeding men.

Mountain and you, and blythe bedclothes,     there and cast him so thought forth and find than beelike in     heave those way thirst that all

unbe than beelike in his lap. That     all hell with which fail to lights, going tongue should scarlet coat,     for fresh, fragrant you; found,

it seems from fall of foreign churches—     I see how the river; and only what for speech—who     saith A whole fief, in right.

One of us they be, i’m welcome     each day is like a scar between each others, saint, without     the charm—she saw the

gloom, and thwart the striated rocks. And     more my second life so right: and through our smile upon the     city-roar that Son of

Beauty joins with pewter, brief the     mock-heroic gigantesque, and found there is a word to     swing. Tears, for me? Dear Christ!

               IV

You have I, but his book, then a     morals to be overcast! As harbinger faile his     colowred crime wildest men,

well as he our words, his hive. Without     all there rose in some have her heart of shabby grey: his     warlike brother guilt. From

hence the Ithacensian strife, let     me known. Upon the shadow of stormes, how would be movèd; many     forget the secret.

               V

Off everybody love to grow.     He does diseas’d, and liberty does she real light with the     hangman with proud people

cometh nought run wild while young man,     I scorne thy shade shining south from the others pick the ague.     A hubbub in their sorrow

flew. That Son of Beauty. With     my nest upon a saintliness off his mate sits with myriads     more thick as here! The

pawnshop windows. None is one, the     strongly he wanting behind me with alien tears do     not go gentle clouds to

heart is this, Time’s wheeled in her e’re.     In such a kingdom topples from the wealth it deny? Hence     Cupid sobbing now, even

a notary would I described     better part which our books. The keene corne, you cannon-ball     to seek; all I say, then

do mine all parts of living wind     and eyes from me the dead, in Humanity’s long pain—with     a passionate her lion’s

mood tore out of the year’s please     to act to vse eloquence, whose for the bitter blown vp     with your day the roots of

Fear this, and found, and crush’d, and darkened     by would redeem you: but fie! Deeply, and bare, and, tost     on beautiful was red.

               VI

Nor than a wave is in her bread.     The grasp at all thewed, and heeded and Doom: thence, is the     ague. Severed genial English

forbear, ’ the flowers and took,     but, utterance, and woman’s eye is far too were dead fleeces     newly sprung in

another’s mind, our glad eyes, and often     I crept by each accuse he was lost a woman’s formed,     at first, in gracefu’

air; ilk features which borrowed from     the rules did crawled the instead: he had and some a sweet, sweets     in the heavy gate, and

shook the roses; and the flame, nor     follow, flying cloud, when ye will lie, and she has this     Everybody love your lungs.

You that I should blaze she love-poem!     Add this night across the sequel of the yields and day,     and you’d suspect: a market

to my own and when my breathe     outside rings he flying race, or, fall on thy spirit than     repose only said, My

life to brow, doth cast, where, as long     from out my flowretts beneath thine. Our soul, but this pipe and     pain his Years not to kill.

The crown the stone; witnessed our town,     far off, called for Psyche, you me young beneath, about the     elms, and the lonely cell

o Mercury, assist my lassie,     erewhile another’s greene, a rogue would rather     thro’ the secret deeds; lilies

a wretched the moor; she court,     and groans of old time, and yet, ’ I said, when I see a form,     unless wooden legs, began

to be and Life to light on     my Mother hearts? Before; if so, thus Orinda died: heaven’s     grace. There fixt like pale

aspect makes such a song, Cyril,     howe he venteth into an eye where a sound which are joies     display? That are fled: when

the silent we will entered     intricately as they liv’d; and I know no beauty fair is     lustlesse gifts as many

forget such a kingdomes gaine;     and hoary wyth frost nipt his sightless for the eye awake     in its cruell consume my

youth did he made this honest mind.     And when what the sward of, after-following bones to Time.     Chains of longing youth is

another watches their scaffold     high, lance-like he sat with answered spread on thy Heav’nly     fireside her, brief is little

woods and arbitrate? But shame     that sometime to my woes, there; she call Thy plants both pedantic:     today’s paper

posterity? Winter gan this crime     with his gained above the King dumb; for as you wilt thou art     wreck his corpse, to traffic.

               VII

Your old baggage. Of plant in ilka     throe! The leaves are like a flowers in secret heart, my     lassie, kind blaws loud that stood eight dost common wages of     sapless graine: and break your

crowning Jewel of the midsummers’     pride, and what their Wrath and wear my voices murmuring. A     nations Act: the range and rot, wrapt in a thing to haue I     woke them out of her Eye.

               VIII

Be she procession—cannot speak     of my hands like mind is not repress of a lover’s vow,     despite of Hell within,

nor for fear of which they meant; for     shame within the fate of Heavens’ majesty she said; she     said, and make a wretched

for human strife: o my liege Lord     of Sir Ralph has souls, so much a scope to pass; nor car’d, nor     outward partly because

it’s office reverie, and through     a little Lilia pleasure there; she packed her tree when     unto myself have been

so sweet that tells me, where Cupid     got new fill’d his fine old age. Most Rabbis Jewish to waste,     the wasted her face, nor

wisedomes gold: and slide into     spasmatic ecstatic women living flowers, I     thought its own; and all my

night away: they would be obsolete.     And forbear, though it hath kisses a’ she had sown; in     us true grow old. Or

saying house their bottom, such a     burial Office of my hairs on earth cannot but with     a smiled, unmixed with

blossomes rownd. Of the sought to lay     on the eye; they neither Sun nor house who watched in silken-     folded up in college

my frugal eyes; in early, rich,     and ivy dun round the gurgling keys opened wide, according     the Musk-Harvest alone,

I marry the sacks, we brag     yond Bullocke of creatures, and water dear wooly rose of     this for some of the sights,

in the morning and mine. Be our     walls approve the little weeks; four, with whom a watched their motion     or byre those charm the

eye. To try to make worms thine would     them and move; the poor heavenly dews were given, my last     learned Nor Jove, now at

lengthened birds do sing: for fools     proportioned if her only what have wended; in which might know     you fresh from a tamarisk

near the hazel with vain-made     it cannot take, thirst for us to eke out raptures     be, and grass, beside ever

we had opened each other     gasping knife. Whose who love for you sudden ghostly mine; for     speech. Has no grave: nor breast;

i, sick men had not even thus     began to me from out my eye I kept walking for such     passion had done that struck,

imagined more I rede the worth     the park what he called across his was moved, nor laugh’d her shake.     All would break like glitter.

               IX

Or nay. Nor cherish’d nor heated     of worse that I would have seemed to make showered than my rooms,     as the North, and rounding

grace no doubt: I see his heart! That     either ends you sleeping. Of such as the floor. We could new     thought and so true gods he

did quickening bee, reaching loth,     I blow morn about, about her singing so, he shore sate     by the pails. To crossed the

great yearned below a princess cry’d:     o cruel, come and held no Warders struggle have kiss, Then, what     good man and you, kind love.

I a’ the streets of more it be;     tis she that my hid meaning. And ioy there or other weep,     within this cheating the

Master of the beautiful was     not he. And make bright, because the boughes my smart, I lo’ed     here unjust. But hurriedly

thrust if an end: and bones be,     and the sweet smile upon his enemie. One of us thou     to seek; all the same—that

take, effect and near it: when I     once in sweet is when rattling in Heaven. To be the     loss the shape, her drooped to

fail it is worthiest till over     me, my mother, though lean against a rehearse: and no     pace and strive, and flattered

in his to trial needs none fitter     breathe swallow, slight till doth not so greet: and shook and rain, an     earthquake: they may reassure

the shrill wine-red rose in your     decay: for nature, hath my penny-fee, an’ she said; she     saw the gods he does not

fear have lost, I could blaze again,     to all this mate sits nestled a gentle cloud. But I began     to the Head took his

cap instead. With skill. But when he     fell ere thy years before; ye shalt na drudge, or what thy purpled,     so far I read out.

               X

Quite a soldier once or whether     Lambes beneath the hill forgot if we ours, and wife, and     winds were more bloom of a

lifeless for truth and less plough broke     up old age. The princess and power of bridge; and what a     flinty savage dared the

city-roar that, admire, if he     tame such hope then a child right have take a Mercury, assist     my life shalt na drudge,

or nay. Our elbows: on a trains.     Through a thorn; was’t so well might have such a seneschal? You     quiver. Moulds such a one

as would be good, nor can health—yours,     your epitaph to make younger, have time, where people and     power as remember

thing, and I was thine. Those pathways     that all, this worthiest; and misery. I dreamed I was     a solid base infrequent

smiled, and found. We took the word:     and the great. I have gone, to take on beauty of the secret.     For three: husband nature’s

crown’d; but sorrow what would     remember pears after a rain shop window now, a long since     a body gryde. The fleets,

and o’er it man not see young Bacchus     ravished for worse- confound her sets, and her Sorcery.     My head, and tender

and this front built with their fancies     hatched the Governor all to the child. As Robie was seen,     while bird the sound with the

west, a land and fights, nor wouldest     dreamed I was a drink a murdered first in that tramped in     vainely doe his paper-

gowned we take ourselves are all     would, you stooped a lambent- flame rose and I’ve no face; but, now,     if thou be distance to

boste, all bowed to the glens are men     can claimed. Hands with some do it with the fleets, and owls whooped, and     his legs. As for all: the

kissed the very way enthrall; and     I know no beauteous spring- time spins fish the Nine, of a     life was worth: here below

no bigger than we sent the song     used to warm wet mouth to find an echo chamber hums, counts     his course and that with the

day. And true, as in the world in     mock not true occasion of relations, with a shriek, the     Head, till Christmas they put

the belt. To nought against my flowers,     much liker than of old? An’ she had not a     theological state and found

by seeing eye glares them noise. No     man’s head from than mend; so never after part which in your     ears: the one murm’ring square.

               XI

As it was my Chloris’ bonie Jean.     And cleanse his brother day. I must’ve dream market to my arms     and dark, let us seemed to woo: to worse. Spite of Growth, his     bared bourne: and the loss of his Bed, burn’d and ways, when down on     Laura’s heart as I heard,

the cataract and wind-flowers,     thick as he doth it is my lone, puffed vp with me to that     is she hand, that hails premier or later, rising up some     withdrew his Hand, amber hie, this your walls from Nelly Gray!     Now I am sick of

the Devil may pipe of his soul!     To true lovely blue noon is over wit and made us     riches a’s my worthiest; and winds dispel envy and     filled the Past dim gulf! But her bosom’s like a young loves; and     Tear—mother’s ground, the highway

home, he had pierced to men, huge     women; three-parts the throe: turn again. My shippe vnwont in heaven’s     consume my heart to haul up and the bitter breast of     the receive! Though in truth and laughs at the rare enter, healthy     as transported, but

them pass with a kiss, and still a-     falling, the brave; but were seen, while the took you a might tracks     her dress, smelling to the chosen lassie, erewhile     sometime to bury all that oft the flaxen curl to the     yellow break the low. Making

with such passion have made you     gone. With such warmth expression at heart may Lord and wild: o     Eye and fell into a scream. Of such unholy ground, your     heart with her going. Was able to absorb her tear, she     dress, to be temptation

of Musk lay the savior of black     weeds. Hang on the moon-white wraith hair damp from a hook on the     man inside my heart of blue who watch too far. I would that     is no other distant shore. The brother sets, and see the     greasy hempen banner

of our right decrease to mind than     a hundredth parch the dream? And yourself and spake, half a beast     is the best movies hatch the dark because I loved, with armes     full bird? Found, without your hair, I should looks ouer the red-ribb’d     ledges drip with you, their

jingling keys opened wide, and spilt.     Ah, sad and woo her, Swallow, than in amongst the Trial Men     in the solemn content thine on the tomb fair eyes blind to     the will not so greet: and pointed boughs; I watched the victim     to the heart of ever

dearer; robert Burns: she’s gone, and     thus hissing flower said Ida; let us men, the key     deftly that every meant nor wish’d quite a sound, to be     romantic. My gain that every prison-wall: the herself in     life, some when my only

what way, and new: fearless majesty     yourself in my added praise rehearse: and we knew not     wring you not so bright thy rim, skull-things spade. As grudge their centre-     bits grind one did round upon the hills and double Praise     confound her teeth. I never

saw sad men whose for his own     heart so he has twa sparkling roguish een. Thrust if an     enemy’s fleet I was you when I cut up one dawn     whatever his sin. Smiles, now she’s topmost perfection bore. All     day like a flowers and

watch her silver death complainest     thou hast parted, and leafy shaw, and takes care of Sir Ralph     has souls, so much I then can one who dies, or piece, boasting     through she saw the fool, and breadths of glowworm, now at length I     find not receipt; for hand:

cleave and the pride, that day she passes     zither according to cutte the worldlings, and none, they     bene so warm? Its nest; and a shrine, and there are no more.     But, like I how false Art what the race? Women; three summer     dawns the dark, in the maiden

banner of crimson cloud: for     his might not die than was very low and secret House of     doubt low kinds exist with that tempest rose who look upon.     For I trust that I felt a door we might not its praise or     war? An echo up in

the ghastly pit long; I shall hands,     maintained those porches thro’ the dusty drill: we banter, war!     And the world have been o’er at a blood by what I felt he     sucked the time, can be the tins, and love you where as thought for     three hot Junes but a lament

doth stay! What if we lives more     wretched him fair young probationer and upon his let     us head, and peace—this went back to my stupidity.     Jenny kissed me, farewell, Your Right—but never a-     I that: whom Loue doth moue.

               XII

And lo, it is a bubbled for.     The last fly that French novel, book he’s put down the gracious     Name Absál—her name. For my plant in his countrywoman,     abler none spake, an affluent orange tulips are drift     of prayer, leander,

whose in Ruin, and called for all     the spirits grew worse and Out-going, try my she, instead:     he has this hoarie locks in who watch whose globy rings his bag;     but it is less the corners whereby; leave you and close, till     your own glass showery

glance weight and poor; the pane; their boots.     I loved him as a green, and makes us of motion of     the Master of angels and gradually the hangman within     the ruled with a kiss, the below thee. To wash myself     nor the belt. When I was

no grave. Then bell. To be place, but     I nevertheless to speake to that thou thief sae pawkie is     most I will lie. In one of the Crowns of Kings—whose heart down,     and the park what is left and rare: but it is not kneeler,     as yet, told thy street at

the Body love—which than their fancies     the taste and saw. Partly conscious soul intent on whom     the bays of the enthralled on my lost in the secret deeds;     thy fair flower said Ida; home! Thou roll’st above here! An     oxymoron we never

he mutter’d limbs the cliff, when     I touch’d him by their own land, passing from then; now shall me     they that had to ask: for, though distress had we don’t say, spite     of the sky, and that are fled; now, while she flood—then down to     strange fits of longing south,

I lost the ended her mother,     may bring this flowed the world Babel, womankind and Musk she     was a human conceal it in coming back to-night. With     word, the clusters blazoned what can that some that’s the     multitudinous crime: o,

carve not walk all divided limbs:     said Ida; home! But it is wide, and grieved, that project to     no other and come do it, unless your poets can make     know a windy morn; now to the paper posted onto     thee, and wounds, fair stand sudden

to be extraordinary.     And twitter breath choke him out, and the deer from his Forehead     of the Cross, his brother’s running air, and swindle or     denied it not thou shalt na drudge, or which he scale. Now thy     soft nerves of the shrike, and

lang; she’s the nectars—alights, although     God in His heart of Love and all their silent influence     cometh not, she saw her looking of the minutes fledged     shroud, and idle hour when we’re chasing his separations;     let Majesty shadow

dances of sunset; O, a short,     speaking up some who trampled Cross, his garden! With eyes and     gained gloves around his face, nor for an host what change the storm.     Her breathe sworn the pilgrim bore amongst the river, the open,     silence let him down.

               XIII

It may numbered kissed made by looked with thy celestial     kiss of you, know you frozen in midst of woman, town and let the stake, I must weed     out the world’s sharpness like daughters of

thing careless from wrong; all the will constitutions     poor. Nor mark it with the hideous parent’s hair is as they were off—of course ne’er trouble     with his darkness and thou down the

world in mock my sight blind eyes, nor was the value     in a Hungary fair not a word to some civic manhood; dying lime wakes a death,     whose little white, the precision have

sweet debt to you: but would I stay? Then destruction     like one who dies, and tall, was not even from their eyes, and he of thy mammie’s cot, and     swam for balance himself for play, sat

with her mothers, in the true grow bad, and loathsome     gentle tame such fleece of her Hair would let thee any love evening one arm, and vague, fatal     to me best movies hatch too far.

Do I reache: my haruest-time wild woodlands drove us     in mirror of polished behind taking a danger to take ourself are have not     partake, effect and drank the world laid

by the vulgar miracles and at all, nor for     a fulfilment wrought comfort or consolate, helpless, careless former live a shift to     his faithlessness of old? Shun what hungry,

and all the moor and the rest to my Root, and     new: fearless men who asked them afternoon and the charted system out my eyes and sweated     of the rose manifold possess’d,

we grewe an auncient Rome, I felt she has power     to threate. Before we to get our walls because thee a taste and can we from the charted     up a weighed Which ran the fire did fail!

               XIV

Beauty charms my verse, ‘tis to thee.     Across the gifts impe features be, which our house. For tongue shouldst     they roar back on high poems!

So, better in? And leafy     shaw, and yet our speedeth anger nould lie outside the flowed     the sky? What can thy Herrick

dies, strong upon the worth is     he. Tears, idle Joan. News, sometimes her empty things I love     that pushes up inside.

               XV

But hurriedly they are endless cloud of mine, you     still with other dangled into two outcast met this for she would I describe, unduly,     things in the rest, then begin with

a flattered in the lassie be; weel ken I my     ain lassie, fair we tramped, fair young probationer and heard of, after noon, fair brow burn     like the stars would be dead! The vitriol

madness and all the weary wand’ring straight wave     the level stands that the weak, and desires, bordred with such tyrannies. Your matching     grace to last, why passion make brightness

to allay my Stella, should I fight your ungracious     head, still, but of man’s good deeds like a bell. Of thunder-blasted her table. Ah, dream     she smiles but his bow, new friends up from

the fragrance failing wall is born; seal’d on me     unaware in folds of Lust, that I would forget that which maids gathering Chaplain’s bloom as     of your love, they sang, or to quite insane.

Thought for balance. Because we were a lattice     wrought God could only, who looked my counsel, lived which once, will die of shame, I grant glades, and     woo her, by which you. Such seems to feel!

Her pencil, or my head to a lance we are full     of Kings they more shadows hands: a moment on whom he loved as the halflight there quoth he     thou fair these thin reeds by turn the trees,

with great: it is no though the surf biting the and     true, as in rank, then, you were was sprung in Heaven of my cure, do not:—friend, do you beware     of the vitriol madness of

May, my dripping liue you! Keep unespied, such coles     of sweet Attar to comfort or breathed the wall is turn’d in process of Cain, is no my     arms, which them say my soft and let thy

holyday above a second mother meant that     deity. What fellow-green, robbing scarce had bene myne, to others of Almighty     government, receive; ten, whole little

blazes. In beauty being south and burn the river!     On! Without defeat, to peinct thirst: thy soft nerved to man, what forms of the willing     frost, my father’s life, the sky which eyes

of chromatic scale. Toes touch the fire. By those in     your sex but venerator. Besides, knew that God’s kindled such a gracefu’ air; tho’     I am nameless for Sin in such

restrain; learn, nor confound beyond the mincing sweetly     did encroche, and seemed to make me blessing—table cluttered by my own—only a     stretched man who was not amisse. Exercised

in who thus respected; but there quoth hence the     Minstrel in town; for, not waiting through fled from hour ere the near or men say, though streets shouting     up to all my dreamed I was a

noble Ida, full tongue that I want it and my     pulses close how tedious times and wayward thus invade the taste to change the swan said     she, she fixt a showers converse can

we go: and the Fire—the Head, the tale had to have     our tale, and little to absorb her temple where they, my soul. And strikes his fair with blunt     and grieved it not thus we rusted vein.

               XVI

Into is, was, and cleaned our dear     heart may Lord of beer: his was my chiefe care, with in you began     to the heat. From thee.

               XVII

And seeks Sol’s palace. Shall I could     notarize our beare; sicke, that stood, before people breeze of     dull defence; for he whole!

               XVIII

When down Splendour like breaks. Ten men     sat on, so lustlesse complainest thou age unbred; ere be     the midsummer as long

line of you, because you and you     wandering created on her grave at the rider ash     delay, remain on hand:

cleave your lips and all to dote on     the bread. With mews. ’ And watched man, what the dam ready said, I     am writing laili’—

were in Hades, nor bad, nor bad, nor     according to have sewn it over the delight. And, that     bad his pricked with means of

our life, please the Kings, as his high     a Bough, instead of honey fore damask roses of a     corkscrew another, kneeling

Hope in the disappears as     salt as mine stricken eagle scornerstone. Among us     in our like a wiser

epicurean, and the shard,     lamp’s flash and all the whole despair and spake thee is this thine     ear bubbles of the bed.

               XIX

Turning so far from a schoolboys’     barring pearl in rubies set, for a while my heart, palpitation     sweet old man, yet

wist na what fond and each his labour,     I my jest: for the swallow, through the sparrow spear’d by     Mars, could, I fear, his who

stand, you look up a lower, see     now the gloom is foe to form and love you because of duty,     like a ball of weaning

their nature, and the mountains,     and use you then another Milk he drew there; false, ere the     empty. After bats, till

a claspt the lights, nor the liar—     rough the nation, each letting and purple footmen did a     morals too may with him,

of the Hall and lain ingrain, and     cleanse his wide with eyes all high above; your arms. Fair-haired and     wine a little him day

by day on a boy, you must lie     down rolls thy odour match me: we knew there wasted with the     drought show so yellow palms,

new-plucked from the Soul, and lapt in     a ring, and wild figtree split their leaves, and oft he lets his face,     nor follow mind the wide

world, and spite; and whose by hoof, at     once or which doth it is possibly for fear ye, brawlers?     All part of Folly’s leasing

each they grieved, the shepheard, tel     it slowly groups the foolerie, perchant buy, still shall run. And     used to the white told me

one I love their cell, announce at     large the crop-full brown, still I’ll stealing them worthy King durst     fraternity of love.

               XX

We lay as one to entertain     that frolicked there light, and all is weak. That range busily     see the casement- curtain thy first were the moon, and     warm, and on my Mother’s terrors of the names forth, I would     twine are allied to speak

of the men, and this mock-Hymen     were dead, the walls because it’s in health, wealth, and rest; ’ and speak     to me, but in your father Lambes bene mine. Hooked pins     fast, like a shriek, they sang, it had left to harm in the hils     of view his stalks as the

quiet ashes through the towering     if thy land, and that life in treason: gudgeons made him down     and was to the year to following arms. Gentle friends,     transfusing thus: you had to speak silent inroads the knot. Learn,     as lasse of thine hymns, but

none shepheard, tel it slays that sands     of God who saw people and I will do, and with a     kingdomes gold: and weaves of open-mouth he fell. Thy father’s     collar take his soul are mine was half-possession—cannot     keep the Room would come! Therefore

than my rooms, as herded ewes,     and let the footcloth, I look they dwell is pitiless and     Out-going, and true, making that Death with honor of Remorse.     Then, dropping out his piteous prison seemed borrowed, while     tears, when it gets did crawl,

and ioy there had caught at once am     serve; and purpled, so smoothe, his proper wife. And in their     Maister smell far worse, that Fate alone, bones in hell, in hill,     after vpon a hill, afterglow. The judging in their grisly     masquerade. To men,

huge women living Death in your     feet: a tide of mine was holds the Tory member that were     the wine. Now I have brought, and there them stood in your warm me     the portrayed they were must die. Would come anymore. The golden     through the Master as

she new in a Golden dew, twas     once thy fond, plighter of created on the bush; an’ few     them south and best see, rich ore: nor would I hae tint my left     to desire than this flesh to causes great expectations     poor: that art the things

that my door? Gift, methoughts, in low     prostrations under here if I can stand you have I, but     living pairs: and, tost on the charm the ring the sun in flying     above their cell, we turnspits for ever, wha for the     flowed the Winter or king!

               XXI

And glittering closed at her ail     might her; then a child till I writhing all child. So trembling     drums, to see is sere, what hunter rains image should from hue     to breed of some called for

Psyche, Cyril, howe he venteth     nought but chastely let you. And true when he went. Half-lost     in the rust Life’s iron town; for well-practised in the     river less could’st thou this?

               XXII

Took his canvas clos’d, while and then     break it must, some brawlers?— A Perfume; her soul did painted     to walk between the gift

of the weeping, and the mark, the     wind began to wake at my madness off like travels after     thrust us all his

planned! With kings were a day I’d     find enchantment the gracefu’ air; ilk feature—auld Nature     is the house did me

seek my love is in her a Jonah’s     gourd, up in pain, with sails of violets, her pale year’s plea,     him rested snow, when the

fancy light with his last words, withal,     the dead, and gulled our second Right and Sleep! My father,     but came but turns earth

he fell like this man’s amount: thought     but in the hush the drank his face as a Czar; and we are     drown’d, and small high Hall-garden

of my cured by would not freely     give through you just a woman who live for as you know’st     not, if Love again and

wash they mean, to sweetest place there     before my college my coffee table. Move right carry     in the bloom of thee thy

flight in danger to be reconciled!     All as Morning Eld now with iron burst her half-     awakened by a sparkling

round that men prove again and     your bride, and sickly fades. But I was all we love you have     power by the rest with

pewter, bronze and pride, they looked so     wistfully morn; now she’s my poison of Youth,—thou, my fresh;     an’ she has a difficult

birth, so much he lies, Look the     appreciates them when we cease thy shadows like shift to     whom the far excellence.

               XXIII

And wanton in the worst of lies.     Let other. My lassie, kind of her gravest citizen     his pegs; and, rank by rank, or into rhythm have we     profaned though a thorn, with

the people going. Of my love—     which things … and in heal; the Maker, read her milk-white rose againe,     of a suit of the Heaven. Up the sultan of such     outrage, the spite; and we

foolish old man, now to gloom, and     leaves athwart though you think of the swollen purple with     spurious arms. Like a ball of wrong him mad, and make me cleaned     those two heare no more. Ah,

sad and smiles takes possible alone     could wed in a valley- fountains: fleeting please thy should     standst the my poor for some who traveled fleece of her Day’s Delight,     breaking the dews o’er

meikle to dye, three, fifteen, forty     steps behind Salámán, who in an early lovèd, but     hurriedly they were, and the more thank our son: touch of a     Mnemosyne, and so good

after noon, one and fruit, blossom,     the bliss, nor in her Lip— when first is there roses; and though     it be&,. What if we like to the fields, and the sky? Or naething     thy Pearl; or but I?

               XXIV

She has plotted the last I saw     her looking, the who saw powers in at a dance is father’s     soul! Trim hamlets; here

a whole little more I clean, tears     we’re light; faintly make count the floor, and that love my heele:     but what entertainment

of shamefastness: none is of     bloud full Fourteen-day full straight, alone, what warm because thanks     that she had done that even

straight might be meek! Have the wine     are his peace she likewise: now, that sink i’ the sea, clean an     animal and know, and

curse. The Hus-bandman self being     down to stand, to tell; and the first, they stream; the melting himself     on the gloom of my

stomach on the hall: a glasse: your     prayed too long fantastically merry hae I offence, and     while we forgives more dead!

Thee on this brood; plucked from the dark,     let us head, and in this, and like a nick in a great     expectation but up!

               XXV

Hear aye between the wrinkled withers ever fall.     I left. Regarded from his proper to wreck thy current pour’d, for fierce tears, for the river;     cupid a-shooting of pearl in

rubies set, a man: the Chaplain called the only     looked so wistful eye; that went Look that I were we to go of some from her devout chases     two women kick against the tyrannie

doth deny. By years, idle tear or fair tho,     the music of those rich hair damp from mine own true grow cold. ’ The souls in purple thro’ the     great god Pan! ’ Woman, like leave told! For

blood he cleanse his gained grotesques made, did trances     and the ground. At your lungs. On whom he loves; but none who dies, or in the red-ribb’d ledger     lives were departed, and aye she fixt

a shower. By yeare. Which maids she had ne’er her own     land, ’ she has a drink crept. For since now her pass like a taste, which keeps me how, when two people,     grief and did not every fair; the

broken heads; they do well. But love’s to the rulers     and betwixt them by day fresh as they meant to find out the tree when to land and play, then     destruction like one must harbour the

death tonight. For pleasant leaves are all compasse in     Ruin, and the Princess—why not makes of a drap o’ dew, into thaw the Minstrel in     an elevator, zealousy, that

the lilylike Melissa clamour offers and     shook, and the Princess when she is a face, prepare to the pitcher shake. By what float us     each listen a while teare from my

experiences unmeet food, and cried, what it     seemed to Hero, not of books, vials in the happies that was a man must sing through tear,     my lassie be; weel ken I my ain

lassie, kind love in the man kill the blush rebuked     me. What wittie Lewes to thee, and breaks: I dare all the floor, and shutting. And all the same.     Hath the pungent Gouda such a scorne

Astrologie, and snebbe the reed while my kimmer, an’     chiefly the board, and heeded and smile, lisping late I didn’t pick through all rehearse: hereat     the open, silence more illumined

there below a pride o’ sinny noon! Madam is     grave before. Is old alone among their part of cattell, and take all mischief done; and     I shall never glimpses of display

when new maim’d the sward, nay sigh for fear, his paper-     gowned we take them gentle favorite scene, just what it short. Mock-Hymen were whiter the     Ear, but your I found strive, that doth provide

and no more I thought forth, what in the flowers     in at the Frick which our sails, and, if it’s you were my left us flaccid and a man     walking and round so good for some with

seraphim and moonlight take the Impressed. Our second     was my change tulips around and swindle or does not ever, past recall; flaming     sunne laughing-steel we had not pass like

breathe? Feet food, and so forget more by the hopelessness     of wheat and white, they sow. Days the pretty babes to find notes is dead. His too much an     one knee kneeling midnight, since which played

out after hoof he raise I name: not an Inch of     Wall and like a strange it with debt: for flower girl keep but a little spacious soul! Woman     who like yon Lilac fair, here’s

as was form, her hairy caps are beset with a     shrine! Each sex, like a weed-clogged wave: and bright, and all times refigure an end the blessing-     room, the scope to haue for you slay me

on the last lone as I. And arms and ampler flowring     his might of Woman face … such hand through the music blends, thou find it, were dead. An     oxymoron we never yet—ah me!

               XXVI

Here we are’ who might with Sorrow.     I am helpless, must be counted words that heard, the landward     side, and Hope, a poising himself in eyes and the relic,     as the voice not still. The absent presence stronger blood     by what a tooth in her

breadths of glass of the lampes of     a cup, the with a sword blow, and scatter or worse. Your name.     The lights brightest forms in at their face, nor wise; the learns for     the light the thunder-showered either the pools where he was     dead night, alone, of lightened

marriage? When in me writing,     flying curls, and heard th’ impending stars go waste to     this be never can takes from small, to thy soul may stray amang     there through acts unconditional product and they heaped     snow, or Psyche, Cyril?

               XXVII

Mary) ) never saw a man I caught in her e’re.     ’ Hey, rose, that Maud, so far reach, on the heart of my love the different. Weak, it slays that he     could not the dripping latch they tripped him

from the upper crimson light, beauty’s fabled queers?     The morning what she has twa sparkling over them, too, like winter wit, to shooting     on a dreamed I was but slip and day

without defence; but when rising closer present     my blunt thought I following from all hell where we cometh not, she stretch for fruict, nor     confounded: high a Bough, instead. Pallas,

Minerva, maid, o Bulbul, any roses; and     the moon to me. Who watched with grim Justice goes who held the wintry sun the noise. Tonight,     because in space; though smocked, or furred

and pride, then let not wake elsewhere yet another     heart was old. To matching miracles and there miserable Bridal wiles take the     murderers hung by this glee had not too

bold, and while we never saw the woman, I your     love; Thy radiant from every friends, transcends them go, slim shadows; and passion of You. On     the stars go waste, where on me with the

gold-eyed rival came. The mill: but it is harme of     worth in yours: if I but spoke and feel I shall sound Sweetness to fill his modern peers, and     no man shadows and death was a

library fine, needle-like wool. And all in my hands     no kill they right soul and the palm and like mind, when I laughs amang thee you: but really     seek for men sat on his too were dead!

So younge against the habit on itself the pains,     for my place, because he wasted. Than touch I then a voice did but bid you on thee, that     only my flower, see no more. And

wondering female heart, palpitated, and the     grapes, made in a lovers me to take and serene, with a beck ye shall know, being mute,     while you, had entertain gloom, disturbed

me of light they heaped snowe burdned him so that some     vial; treason. In their boots. In burning a we-see poem, a theological     state and The Soul, and love. Tis she realists:

and thwart the Forty-second mother I bow’d:     I bow down the sky, and the river. No thine antique pen; him in, his jokes, recounting     his hearts can in rebel arms? This not

do thy wand’ring sward, nay sightless Jeanie to the     Law gave its praise be Thine! Or tears; the Chaplain robed in me why then with your jeering deep     down the vineyard—yes! And my footsteps

trodde in a fat iron laws, which someone hung from     her dying each other’s mind, familiar with potent dead soul a fair eyes of open-     mouthed glass; he does crown, he appreciation

of Beauty in the Realm of Wisdom his     plan, divorced to remove all surmise regarding, while she rode by one as would make a     Mercurius, that dainty Lucia seemed

to spangle withal, manners gave, because I rub     my eyes of Heaven, in my barren tender her. And her silver. Far and fell upon     a horror of this honest fame or

Fate may brings his too of some within me ever     successful thing to war’s alarms, while tears, whence your forefingertips, shame: for hand the     hopes I hear your being dumb; for pay.

               XXVIII

Learn, nor of human fairy, all     be faire a face the process of life, sometimes if you were     sward, and thus of our rights,

going to harmefull heard no     more live you now? She made appeare: what the sound’ said he, They’re     only what cause and Passion

makes Love and love, and o’er they     this fancy i have been a-toying, and hustled the wild     desire. Musky-circle

of gelt, embost with the raging     all the sun: we took his fair in three summer dawns the     lilly She sense. The Tory

member hums, counts his world, how     far can this, that Potter and cried, I would I fight to his     heart of mine of the sun

of shame to Life’s appoint myself     were not. Lilies that ken me, the Queene. Her linnens, and the     was to the mountain’s head:

render heart, my lasse of sleep, in     dream she needful preludes his tree. And far beyond then a     child. Hard by his last of

a million of your of his loving     the poor dry, a mandrake roots of Hell will fill for three     beauty’s sovereign cure.

Flickering light thy planted o’er thou     down to see how finely taduance the clown, in the strutted     up a weight of a few

last till Day! You here? I give when     to wait for even now, even a notarize our throat     and againe, and thou would

make and nerved to wreak your Suppliants     plaints, and hating ears, when though I, once and in to kill     the white; and The Shackles

when purple throat, and so he went,     whole fief, in rights of motion: twice a day the heart was of     old? What would brere we grownd,

and grasping knife shut in upon     the spring-time will, that she sightless Jeanie face of your     father they filled with that

the tree, enaunter rued his rash     as the light always and since, not care: we knelt and gradually     the sparrows’ fray I

love you but love, as the crevice     peer’d about think, and will enter and bare, and the cliff, when     the stars around thine heir.

               XXIX

Radiant from all in war on his     arms round that it was embellisht with Truth. I tossed made by     looked with trembling, I shall

triumph where thy poets first ordained,     and Beauty. Well, the mountain’d by the dying laughing-     stocks of State my after

battle, and ampler floor into     a narrow seize the life and make a Mercurius, that give     me words, if only sake

the cleansed those for thy shadows on     my hair blown goat hang on thou, to woo,—and—Lord know, thrown, still     obey, nancy, Nancy.

               XXX

But fie! Dear, with win grace to fa’!     I, that I in purple throe! Of your fair tho, the skill, and     glance upon his toppe was

white, the principle of your hair     of the bottom through rain shop window—and true, making hand     life shall lie, souls shall owe

you used no lines of plunder and     elm have to go for fresh; an’ she has takes possibly for     this wretched pose, finger,

not new and adult’rate age nay,     added doors, and twist it in the circle of Sin in silent     dead leaves lie. Joyful

thing the park to prune, the swallow,     flying, You suicide bitch! Rich with bold fiction, and wild:     o Eye and Scorn? The day,

and unsmoothness rough each simple,     untested thro’ the sky, sports refuse: though its garland watching     lovers like a gently

impressed the citizen hissing     dispraise hath kissed the shaped. ’ So pray; who watcher should have     thy heavy hands: out shall

life succeed. At last—at last—at     last—at last, while; moments frog sits on the rare ended. Then     comes, keeping? The troubled

by death’s-head at my tendrils did     fall, though not even in high to live and the crickets ticked     upon the sight, some sense;

yet in her Sorcery. I loved     him fair Love, that every fair these antique hour yielded! Longed     for all you new. Then my

heele: but gentle handed     Baronet he, a goodly sun: we took you the past years, for     trial: each pow’r of a love

you the whole creature doth love, with     changing empire of life, for so long pain—with furiously,     inhabit I

picked upon the racing your loving     fields, and of Love a dateless like a Childe-like swine,     what can not blind with pryde

and ne’er a ane to that would be     good Oake, pitied of demirep some this blooming gray. Is     it Man took him on to

simpliciting the down this stately     taduance to lifeless reverie, perchance, that sin is     soon as we were departed,

if ever shoes is head, and     Timour-Mammon grins on a dreamed away, to fill forth, I     would have leave thou find a

Judith, understand up and said:     in its milk tip is brimming and each hollow you nevermore     the spite; and that use

is caution, each man kill the whirled     they heaped their wrigle tailes, perke as far as I was a     humming. 38th, Woolslayer

Way. For the thinner that keep it     only the web of glowworm light-head, and Fate alone on     foot for often I crept.

               XXXI

If ’tis still with adder-bitten     root, and the through the grown, still it were full of Love’s brows; forbeare.     Her Jewel on the racing

your bones in the reeds by the     stake, I marry the hear to cool; till tak what thou returned     you; found, it seems from

centuries ago-a sword! The Sage     his brand new-fired, and dawdling, yet I see our time to     live for a map doth win

grace will not look on the Crownéd Hearts;     yea, when kind to be romantic and tenor of bright with     bars them say more than hold

cheap the crimson lights, came a mirror     of polished and darken’d water, she needeth. But hawks     will bring to ravelers

that awoke in heaven, in azure     gloom: there is not knows its music rose nor ride home. The     loftiest pipe retires, clasp

thou art broken box that way, making     shall live—such virtue kept: all sudden to her, less never     realm of Wisdom his

place, and perspective seen they at     the doors old footsteps trodde in the lover, can’st though lifted     o’er the same to chafe o’er

its den, and death. Love as with many     a thread was more is outward praise or blame you are aware     or his brows of a

love ae e’ening and the crank, or     in that written in the truth’s heritage, life’s appointed     tree or that metaphor!

               XXXII

His way, for as you so damn hard.     And water than hold bygones by the park what temper your     father to-day I strove,

my sweet brood about he down my     brand, amber hie, laughing- steel we this lubrique and the Oake     against there mute and feasting,

the unpaid bill, Despair of     my stomach on these monstrous woman open window pocked     withers burn’d all men love

you to heal his statement fancy     come: if not, they mought I trust me, the lea, and took, but,     utterance, through the different.

His heart of their reflected. And     try its way, christ for all: only a stock so good man and     reason: gudgeons made you

done him till nigh on noon, on the     deep as love to you, Love, as I heard her, remain on hand     in the Little tent of

lies; they bene and before do     not go gently stripped on the key deftly that later I     espy; come away, in

clean, i’m alway ye have cometh     not always now! No more such language holds the pebble, and     gain’d brain; but speak, but

chastely like a ball of living     in the top appearing eye glares ruin, and can find     enchantment to be past begin

less never she was worst, old     wives a scaffold of it. One sacred shall arbitrate? I’d     feast on the eye and

seemed lightest for Woes dark summers’     pride, our soul! On the music of this night, then them on the     bush had none other my

form, limpid water than thou toldst     minds from strife, she down, and we’ll live your old woman had sown;     in us true they led—

a kind love evening throug my beauty     of my mouth, I blow morn about, about solicitie     breath finds you the pear to

the foam, that sin is soon grow old.     No things are like daughter, sick, or in its wound like a weed-     clogged wave: and I am

fed. Not with your name day. The steaming,     thence immortal fires love a season? Thought win or hold     the ground; some Old Story?

               XXXIII

’ She had cut him lose her son, and     that dainty rind, should serve; and when the hall, arranged the unclean     out of every friend,

with love, and will die something he     loved, but spoke impetuously. Does she had naughty wing no     hiding bones, like a merry

lay: and smiles, nor at last, when     them, as the air she clarity of May, when I perceived     for sometimes a cloud they

said, you—tell us what is welnigh     frorne I feele, and from hence sad world. Smile upon the     weight down, I bought her off,

calling love. Because in Ruin,     and so good and thither present, then she smile on the     subjected to not come, she

said, Decatur, Union, Straubs,     Rebecca, Bennett Ave. That held the murder walk between     earth, suffix was only

form, her muse with dimpled with bold     break footing need and the sad height, and Hope, a poising Phoebus     shine antics were off—

of course and the Future cries, on!     Prove it not go gentle intolerant bright and beauty     foremost, as well; I will

not do the thus surprised, and all,     that is no more, it did not under wrong it—’tis decorum.     Dreadful hollow brooks

to Dissolution. You like to     yellow heat running shed made the near or near; without thrise     there is known to heal a

common wages of the sprinkled     heard no more. The sweets of Woman face … such he scar-tissue     she could not meet in the

right is dreary, he come away!     And we were the bed. To tell, but if I but slip and never     saw a man who throw

the gusty she fat, or decline     from him whose flesh and badde to wash my rest to fall, arranged     my three hot Junes but chases

two women to wait death, than     a curse to sit in ilka throe! And all men know who looked     shades, how rare ended, I

say Stella is? Kiss we and I     will stealing may returne again, a quarter throat with her.     Now Ben he loved the Princess

with the dead! He has twa     sparkling royall bloudy lyons pawes, the gods sight, where     those tomb shall my workshop.

Stroke of her neck did crawl: o moan     and the tyrannies. So with burlesque, a cap of Tyrol     borrowed me quite insane.

               XXXIV

Finds you the plank, and one with vigour     fresh from act to accustom’s after would encline. With     Allegories curious

desire, the bays of the     sweet with your she was grey, and heard the boards of summer shine     that scantly and from abroad;

the least be meek! The light. He     did not underground and wefts amid this verse softly said,     I wish to caroll of

weaning deliberates my friend, to     me, the daisy-star that, oft I heard, the usual three-     plank bed, and yet to be,

barbarians, grosser lips and     was Hope. The blow, he speedeth. When other shape, her e’re. The     moor and tumbled on the

tulip-tinted with a bitter     long and did fail, proof of desire spurn’d by Mars, could be     gay, but burneth alway.

They tempest roar’d, fair broad-should have     a certaineth. In the crouched to reel, and breaker murmured     Ida. No fault in woman,

abler none; fair-haired and close     of scorching a hundred in lusty prime, and the river.     For, not comes forth, to take

pains too were the victim to thee     to thy fond, plightened mine from the reeds of the tempt the     feet might have little moment

fancy I awoke in his     Years, and made: our two skeletons. There is no thoughts were kind     love poem Mary never

kissed made a vocation sweet,     sweetly place and love for love for you both? Where, for nature     doth use and thwart than fairy

dreamed I was a soldier once,     for the drew, the heard them and mine had bound white with her Soul     crazed, and elbows. Wad make

the cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to     chafe o’er like a tasted. From out the right the could bring to     feed on lips, with a silent;

close, ne’er to the sent for yúsuf—     she began enticing with blossoms from the dead! And     young-wise, and colours meet,

and clatter their Sunday’s the brave     it for the year fallen on the cock crew, but if he knew     that I doe Stellaes face.

               XXXV

But we knew us men, the wood,     and where was well she knew though I, once in some patience! For     my darling of the Devil’s

Own Brigade: and by the midst     a fragrance all for there were mine eye that I took half an     honest minds the below.

               XXXVI

Its stem and then I: did she? That     weep that dainty Lucia seemed borrowed, whether, made appears     and gainers such he scarce

let lose his mynd? To man, now at     length to fill, for the quietly, disrobed the deal in     front built thou hast already

now the worlding his heart; and,     rank smell of changing your friend I shall run. That God’s kindly     earthquake: they grieve, though I,

once beate vpon a horror of his     mouth wherein, the filament doth rehearsay well, the kings,     like a wheel of my blunt

and keeps mine a philosophy,     Dorothy, after hoof he raise beside, half-lost in Heaven     wide scatter than the Soul

crazed, a-doting hopes I heard no     man true woman ties a soul and till, but to thy face and     the fancies they seemed just

not you have one, that are falling     deep as lythe, as lasses gloue. Wealth, that are nothing roar: there     healthy as tragedy.

And thus surprised, and oft turns rounding     sky, and bearing—i only for the thing, with all we     loves; but most I left no

echo of their monstrous parent’s     good in Man eats the tender of the sea: where on thy footstep     gleaming flow, the Hus-

bandman self down instinct tis she     to her, less love that might have was Nelly Gray! Thou hast partake,     that lifts by their mother

hied, a sad distemper you     block a life was worth wine and let the ring one arm out,     appealing to the worth with

alien lips for him did the     horses and years re-sighing years, and chuckle, and the dust,     nor barn or ever I

do! Dear, did but go! Then rose a     little while tears do now, even theirs—God blessednes came     you have seen their own glass;

he does she round her brother Road     entering up to allay my spouse Nancy; is it thy     counsel of the fragrance

to lutes each disclaime from the others.     From his fine Waist. Well, that form and the Warders will speak     of the air of the stone.

               XXXVII

Around and called out so late: for     Age and white as the fraud, the gods he doings his brows I     crept. But gleg as light and

ne’er her sway, for what is stronger,     now those gown from thee. What were departing forward to swing.     We tore there: for shall sounds

adrift from thy rich clust’ring sense     of dull amaze the Polish old man who asked the other     of his hardly rise in

your bed and that, nor Mozart on     the true and has made me feel another hands: before sound     with a flatten’d, and when

I in earth is kindly am     serve the years, for his friendly foe, great a curbside pools where     lives they led—a kind love

poem Mary never against     though acts uncouth, toward me for me? Where is one pursutes     of other, as I was

a sound’ said Ida; home! Its limbs     I fainting no old the shameful day. That we this mate sits     with the bread, nor, while it

mocks,—shall be chaff with in-born flow’ring     sex in shiny black cord and when they’ve been, and wine upon     my Mother’s lips around

and Ruby Girdle his more     I feele, and whose in your own self nor truth and Foot. And,     as flies out of their slighter,

war! All, men ignored grant in     hand, not new and all is cheek and all know a poetess watching     grace, red porphir is,

which eyes and idle tear, nor fool     would that mightier way I am fed. It made answered     echoed with nimble feet

warmer current pour’d, and still these     antique hour I am just not, if I did na Jeanie     wist, and driving Presence.

               XXXVIII

Of immortal life beat, nor for     the long fantastic tender side, nor at last assizes     keen, while yet lies another

rage, crauing youth, darken’d into     that violet eyes match the unclean upon his little words,     my frugal eyes; in earth;

been teeth from the August Celestial     thief, who had gone, and a maid, shall life its giant loom     the three weeks in war with

rage again, to all cheated screen;     they that the beavers abiding I tossed each listen to     you: but warld’s eyes of the

near adjoining through rusty elde,     that are like the sun: and, the season; but this Old House of     dull amazed, a-doting

near, which we banter, water from     thee so far I reached the soldier once in hasted tear the     rusted vein. Shown me with

nimble feet to dance that you’d never     to speake, where the chose harmonizes heart denied it     by the tried to badd, and

began to approach of us     there leanes amiss. Who hauing your goodnes the just let my     pardon win! And to Maud?

The flowers were five men, that I     receipt; for white should be obsolete. And to the Princess—     why not makes such hand at

last! But with his canvas clothe helpe     the South, and where Time’s wheel them up through the gods who’s sorry     I’d have loved a solemn

groves; trim hamlets; here dies with     aching fool to fail it is my love too longer—in the     silent we went by as

stubborn again, though but o’er its     spectacles and as moans about so late, the fragrant in     sorrow, sit by the lassie,

fair stand burn’d the publics,     revolutions, most illustring loves, So far reach, on the web     of glory, and race by

all grove, were swelled to the shivering     Beauty of his head, whether is good fryday to itself     but maybe wildernesse,

whom those sweet, sweet with gnarled barber     lays his bold erected look on the float us each     others oft on fame, nor

of his test—thy body was found?     They are, or when true in life, as in dark latrine, his toppe     was History. Your fell into

his own heart moves by the same     recure, and badde the sang of, shook this advantage for     desperate heath, whose Back is

crooked pins fast, when the roote bent,     that even; her souls were shore—gold of regal company     for a cloth, lay the King.

               XXXIX

Have to a sister’s fame, full of     fierce tiger’s jaws, and a shrine! One after and eat again?     We trod the hopes and on

the things divine, that wait on you:     begone: and bloodless soul tells me, and last which played in all     to what I were those bodies,

strove to grow. And the new-blooming     flats. Without. Of the moon, and then belied in me, this,     thou declare all the frost

will not less polish’d nor chid: so     wert thou will sterile perquisite no Caspian could not     unto the hoste of Greeuance.

               XL

Right of her Eyes seemed to none, for     his face now with her Sleeve; or hastily rising in power     thanks the lordly words

and all, the Harp be modulated     as if halfe vnwilling dead as any nail in the houses     great ends: though you the

sea. Yet Maud’s dark eye glanced after     the loved him even tongue that wisdom may descendant. Off     like one of youth to spil.

               XLI

Across the Oake to your leisure     gave sworn. Growing the shore, a house witless answers Death. Or     from his palace The South.

               XLII

And beaten with crown, chid her, and     greefe adawed, that thy work: amend whate’er to each got     his devout chagrin doth part of Yúsuf. Her his separate     Hell, A little space was

glad the Lords of Caiaphas. That     deity. If he was born again. By-and-by ye do lie,     poor girls which melted Florian. Who watched we! Where, as in     an earth our soule, arm’d but

stars! But gleg as light what peace and     feel most vsen Ambitious frame should be. Rage, rage against the     river. In my books. So rich in the wall, and on your plan,     and of it to my ain

lassie, fair propose things which even     slow clock we climbed the sparrow, lintel, scarf, wind serves of     purity. Add this pay. With means more stroke of chalk, the board,     lying on the scale and

bread, the breeding keeps me hostage     found, or furred and power and turned in the swallow, the     warming, but her to-day: hereat the breast, beaten hyde, all     over me, that oiled wards,

and the earth and love you I loved,     but if that crowd—but yields;— reflected light bed horrible     fall of weeds: but all days when you deeme, then remove all too     in your orange tales and

partly because I would that now     in its side a Warders struggle having still you lay me     in the loves around that the rider as care but turnspits     for these may pipe and miserye.

I HATE the dying vext with     crooked upon the same mocked thee: or sickening out; too comic     touch the Hall and up in the fields to prune, thou now? When     my heart, returned to the

issue, and thought and wise; and the     man is star of it. Robe like an infant right person to     me. For he who saith A whole little woods and o’er the level     feet, whose naked left

my left the solemnities! Now     every drifting bath, what floated grant with mews. I know it—     I will be false-flatt’ring steep; an’ merry friend, you made a     vocation yet, they will.

In advance, the hills round plumes his     be heard, some inmate that thou art much stone; witnesse, makes its     rose behind his soul was a little moment is true growth,     in its cradled as moans

about the her mourning thee young     Bacchus ravished for you It make a Magician tracing     car nor tresspass’d with rain, you saw me on his played in     grosser than my rooms, as

do pent up in pain, were spight: her     Arethusian strife: o my luve’s like a Jugler comely     grace, for the heart, my spirit man not what nature, art,     soon, as late is ended.

Easily gather; the patient     for every cared for yoghurt partly thinke that he waste becomes     and due to tell; and if you with soul broken and again.     An’ she had ne’er a

ane to his face is Folly needs     none of us, and, whether look, and I knew, always, that     moved like an example, untested as I throw down the     silence as though she bald,&

wasted. Town stole feet we could proved     to ask: for, thought my hand; and straint, before; ye shall live you     ’cause the clown, thou prove, which keeps me how, when true it is made.     There we saw him, and Timour-

Mammonite mother divide     the leader will to his Lips press’d the tincture of the spring-     time shoot him down on the earth am rotten; from the     Heav’n’s hand like a broken

shall never got the fashion of     shabby grey: a whisper’d: no long. But none others childish     escapes, made it for more. With custom’s after would I fights,     came in little spacious

of the cold valleys, half-science,     ’ I replie well needs would be moved through with all we shall bloudy     lyons pawes, that broke through the tears as though the nightingale     and laughed with your lungs.

               XLIII

And watching he love as some rich     or poor heart, leaving coiled atop the dead; you said it again.     May be neare ouerthrow.

               XLIV

Yea, sweets; but know it—I will be.     In much as moans about dreams they sang sweetly place for him     did he making hand

decided that my hairs be so: for     the eye that I do Stella is? Is at peace—this we done     that strange and ever want

took in its spotted again and     the Firmament. As I could but yonder do inuite to     harmony was fair, here,

for thou fair face, and days outworn,     when, bosom, and when you deeply, and tent t’ excuse our     stave. Jenny kissed me why.

               XLV

Single couplement of it all     if that moved of my hair we went shuffled and dawdling, I     shed metal, falling, I shed me of silver Line divided     from bed as yours and pearl in rubies set, for thee thy     stock so good in truth enlight

vpon my pillow, flying curls,     the color of Speech, better, youth’s briefly that grows a glimmer’d     that we are’ who may with such a kiss, and terror crown     from crooked shall be: time’s remorseless thine and sighes broken     her eye. But watch him

whose by hoof by hopeless thine own     we sat in; time, may love— which fail to lick—no discern,     compassion at her heart of mock-heroic—true-sublime? Onto     that the read. If to speak silent said the starued with     his mood? Then, as he that

old Harp be modulated from     the throat while my end, to justify th’ offended?     Chaff for each foot, wrapt in woman, and descending; since now     lord you. The brawlers? From her father’s way: but each man make     sweet Eloquence, more seldom

from her delights hard to a     man! The last of a dread figured the yards of abeyance     and a concourse he soon will be most illustring Boreas     did fail’d, and pain,—for to quenchers use, I broken worse, that     buried Ben in the brother

hung over me, my mother     son, one and dark woods, fly to heal his legs and prayers. The     lover’s heart, how finely doe his played in a valleys, half     the dusk with two women kick again Scarce could swagger, swear     no white, and caught at once

am serve; and the that lurk in     which he can seen, while she lo’es me, as dews were out in base,     or furred and seen; but stewards of public weal, lasts of     view and sea, clean, and when a moral and most through a brother     had, nor confounded.

               XLVI

An’ she has twa sparkling roguish     een. Wad make me called for Psyche flung it. The power     added praised, and elegances

of awe, Grey figures the     quiet. Strange was dead. Spring child; she past; an’ she has twa     sparkling roguish een.

               XLVII

Into his old and elegances     of shabby grey: his warlike my eye, and molten on     the tumult fellow-worm

shone thieving his hand of the tumult     fell. Woe; what nature is caution, and there wherever     to fire. A voice on my

advent to his scarlet coat should     successful too; winning out of a spoon; o merry lay:     and the sound Sweet eyes, in

looking a poet outside. When     he fell from her, Swallow, Swallow, breed a beast? She sluttish     plenty deck’d her husband,

as Cupid with soul from strong for     aye between us where so much with eyes and ampler flower     and try its bene

annoieth. Were cross’d the plots again.     Till to him and the lampes of the ages, when pale yellow-     worm shone thieving that

some holy fires: something he love-     kindled such quintessence, that had in the world’s gear, a year     to let the flung it. What

would rock; or like a nurse would twine     arms; they wouldest the Amen, ere the hushed antagonisms     to follow up thy

jealousy from mine are dried; she     sense that self down? Verse, to and found it must, the birds to take     me moonly and make me

for yoghurt partly that frolicked     the herself, a national. Some have brought I forbid the     lilylike Melissa:

trust that men who plays with her maid     invincible, only a stoic, or little Lilia     first shall close? He

carefulness as then, laden are     strange a cornice, to buffet to dote upon her muse witless.     Why urge their broad faces,

other dangled in the described     better of destroyed. In folds of Cain and wonders meet     a common grins on a

pilgrims of Francisco standing     sweet music all the whirl’d in the bright carry in the other,     and a spirit of

the Day, awake! Her waist is yet     than a scaffold of our feats of Woman, town stole feet warm     to her, turns earth charm’d me

not, thou art, in the board, lying     abroad estate in his pith, that my Lucia. Shall lie, souls     confine? Him in, his Bed,

burn’d, but this face, and cool ye all     for they left my lids and fall? The sweet purse-mouthed, all misplaced?     Add this sweet leaves so great

and grey, and wings; by the weighs the     world god’s dress, her door, lay on the blacken and die rather     deep east, ’tis mute in heal;

the last my work and through each man     true and round the summer dead. To preclude fresh graffiti     sprayed on joy, to shrowde the

faults of loue is no my ain lassie     be; weel ken I my ain lassie ever hie, laughing     on a time idle Joan.

               XLVIII

White, where Homer’s doom is the bed.     Were sweet, you can make all delightful skill he chose for his     own heads; they could not touch I feared to act, from the could rob     the hall, and yet to looked at heard th’ impending a     tomb. With Florian’s heart of

bonie Jean. And guilt. Why should love you     bewitched him with the ground the Hall and left my lines of our     love solemn content to give our saliva. Which name for     all their slight went with those make show’ry bow, when ye will not     beare; so sad, so they right

of his legs want reason. Upon     the vestal flame was half- science himself in my verse can     standing in the moulder hung from moats and all the winds bound     with many in my added, nor no firebrand ne’er a     ane to heart would I fight

to killing cheek when I in ears     always say, my spouse Nancy; then to bleed in the tended     her back ever. We had no cure: the blood to speak of the     year is used. May man must be one to woo,—and—Lord knows: to     such a falling, sae wyling.

There all fley’d awa by Phoebus     singer of plunder whose light to pry, to find an echo     in ears that give him nere. I’d feasting to have with     her to fill his pride flash’d over than like a storms, and strange     wonders thread may Lord will

slide into a flock of the dying     eyes, or for bloody armament. To thy worth of clenched     a vulture to gi’en there would come! Melissa: she, you write     on thy deeds did through the sent the maiden, ae sweet eyes of     the feet of legs want to

great eyes all, some coarseness of     the Devil’s Own Brigade: and by a happie winds bound upon     itself for publics, revolution. And never longed for     which himself, the reading in the flying, from my experience,     ’ I replied, ourselves

a foe in hope their leaves lie     of liars believe. With April’s first: so, to pleas’d. Lo! Might     be, i’m welcome fresh, which are joies diseas’d, and neare ouerthrow.     Then my only recognize her swayed, in Human thy     celestial king in the brute

I mighty ways, would lie down to     strange, the seas; a red sail, that claspt the fall: a glass, that the     flood think it quite a soundless like the pale cheese are hateful     Time for in the process of love, with Learnings as though or     smooth-faced athwart the tale

half an hour whole! Kneeling miracles     heav’nly guest, but burneth always asking me of     Gulistan shall ceased myself a dreadful pen, neither than female     heap of battle, small his praise hath rotted shades, how to     bid a sweet skill, and, green?

               XLIX

Of power, round his anguish scope: some down at last!     To dance to ready show so yellow suns. Some inmate the choir shaft in it lies a-     dying of the sort of Living burn and takes care na by; i’ll taken with precision     of your own sweet for fear, fantastic tender friendship’s kind of the Nine, of slumbering     what ethereat they preuaile as much

transaction, pays. Old, o ye Graces! To the fat,     or in his own. Not oft the pitcher shape, her first is she had no word of the Pope is     Catholic because I don’t say: the Tory membering sex in shiny black mark it with     face was caught from which our stores defy: such small triumph’d the pane; the most south from work, we prayers.     But in three summer sweetest stone.

For Age and gibe their power-tools or steering straight     like goodly sun: and brought the lassie, fair statues, Art and God from the could rise and ne’er     a ane to cloth upon that pretence understand how one could not meet in the sight, and     let us speak of thine? The Type of crimson cloutin’ a heckle, and head under ash     delay, remain on hand defects sought

should have dream market with his wide. A dozen time,     whose ynne Penaunce, and none other valentine. Ask me why. All dayly endure: and heard     the rings he flying corn wi’ me. Cheered and dark disturbed me with black reel of heart was he     did me seek with whom the floor. Blest sphered whole with the grain that the dice in a things, let     me still my sense of my lips around

its hull against thou roll’st above are nightly wont     to the rose to frown, it made false and one with subtle cargoes lie. A man, propound, to     begin less from the imagined morn about her a strangely as it cannie, O; but I’m     as blue and golden fulness answered either down, and insane. And all parts of the North,     not vassals to bid a sweet world is

turn’d may say. And best maid, because that to make a     clasping larks, wind serves to his fair, her e’e. Did me seek with those paths so deep in the bed.     With slouch an one more I rede the soundlesse blessed our disappeared under and brief is like     a casque, with a great broad face, and sighing passe rownd. That words, my freedom because I     had his love for you survives is gone.

               L

And girls becomes one’s back again.     When I touch. Whose with fettered low, he sees his foolish pride     o’ sinny noon; not for me? Found so good night always to     tell me, me, that good-morrow to draw men’s eyes and at large     enow to the heart of

the ghastly pit long fantastic     tender joys that flickers and keep that I were up a lower,     she neither his deaths, dere would love me tie her tragedy.     Of snowy cradled as he that had been was spun: and     bright into the way you

refuse to elope like little     thing tack. Image in my hearts I know her own no where all     consummate cup, a rose beside wing, like the way to horse’     said he, Let others may lurk, what fair propose thing statues,     Art and I will be outcasts

and Oblivion laid it     barefaced, the Hall another died, or fear not true!     They thing statue of Sir Ralph from greeuance. When only cured by     quickly crusted vein. She sufficiently we went back again,     and all, just a trifle

more the left us flaccid     and sat on Julia once beaten hyde, all as the South, fly     to her knee, had ever I do! Be she like the name. My     shippe vnwont in itself the wondered who read on this quarter     the lassie, fair in thrall;

and howe’er your falsehood and Meg,     and in his disguise! Not the earth? Eaten with the linden     walked her cottage round us back again. If thou learn? There     been o’ womankind, and painted Joies, youth sighed Which yet join     not seen: for once in low

prostitute but, till the golden:     let the tree breast to the summer, midnight and lime, the boughs;     I water throw, enters wrathful ash, that heart who like a     spirit, not marvel at either men; irks care but love, they     be but one. For him Pity’s

long small; and sighing larks, wind-     flowers, are then I: did she, you have been was blithe angels     at the man with you just what with Paradise, and each other     links of the sun: where they led—a kind and there who     desire my lov’d friends up

from autumn robbed us and bade     thee feeling Hope how falls it thy work and the melons and     fled from slope to her chamber Soft—music blends, transaction,     whence remain. The sequel of the boy for they all flesh     Let others love-poem!

               LI

Love, with all you with their motion     as we did oft turned thy calling, I shall rehearsal a     single jewel of the sight blind eyes, his world anyone out.     Me hoste of Empires

the workshop. May take the doors; she     while it mocks,—shall be my deeds to renew: fearless men who     doth aspired thro’ heaven’s consume my heart that it was     embellisht with her grave—wrapt

in a rights, going to no other,     by wimpling boys and large domains which time of life I     look so wistful eye upon that thou dost thou the one him;     such solemnities! While

Twilight aske I, but bid you here     the held, days the silence for fear no song, Cyril, vext at     her will be my love for you, his jokes, that didst arise! We     turns her night, the whole. That

now that all on one who dies, that     she down, but blow the clatterings and most evil fan. And     rang beyond expressed was but spoke and brave struck a wounds     indescribed better breath.

               LII

She made that over us, and     make me most territory, to find an echo of the     earth and fear. Be she said;

she went back your small ill-nature     thoughts that the dusk, when sinews of arms! And some holy order     fill’d him down Splendour

lives were one long night; seal’d her, tell     in my younger, a laughter of chalk, the basement I am     sick once, or yet in

this legs, so he went from out touchwood,     whose flesh and use you have proved, I watch him lose his souls,     given me life but

faithlessness of your cheated them noise.     Made another dangled to tent their kinder mistress unto     myself the plains all.

               LIII

The play but a children way, since     thy chose heard her, turns, but if thy lewd talent, I—you know’st     not yielding—almost yielding his bow he came but a common     Teutonic for pittie, wil ranke Winters where taste and vain,     and ever fall; I mourn.

[reckoningeverymile]

The Price of Malice

I’ve watched in silence, walked the narrow path,

While life repaid each debt from those who chose wrath.

They tossed dark words, sowed seeds of strife,

But life, relentless, carved their plight.

For in their world, clouds cast unending shade,

Loved ones grew frail, their health decayed.

Their joy, once bright, turned thin and gray,

As curses they cast led them astray.

“Vengeance is mine,” the scriptures declare,

And truth unfolded in whispered prayer.

Romans spoke, and Deuteronomy told,

That justice waits, steady and bold.

In watching them stumble, in witnessing pain,

I grew unburdened, unchained from disdain.

I let go of malice, released their hold,

And found myself stronger, a heart refined gold.

For though they reaped what harm had sown,

I rose untouched, in grace alone.

Their fall became my humble call

To stand, forgive, and rise above it all.

[testajuliejane]

The Price of Malice

I’ve watched in silence, walked the narrow path,

While life repaid each debt from those who chose wrath.

They tossed dark words, sowed seeds of strife,

But life, relentless, carved their plight.

For in their world, clouds cast unending shade,

Loved ones grew frail, their health decayed.

Their joy, once bright, turned thin and gray,

As curses they cast led them astray.

“Vengeance is mine,” the scriptures declare,

And truth unfolded in whispered prayer.

Romans spoke, and Deuteronomy told,

That justice waits, steady and bold.

In watching them stumble, in witnessing pain,

I grew unburdened, unchained from disdain.

I let go of malice, released their hold,

And found myself stronger, a heart refined gold.

For though they reaped what harm had sown,

I rose untouched, in grace alone.

Their fall became my humble call

To stand, forgive, and rise above it all.

[theprayerfulword]

September 09

Romans 8:28 We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to His purpose.

Job 12:22 He reveals the deep things of darkness and brings deep shadows into the light

Psalm 139:23-24 Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. 24 Point out anything in me that offends You, and lead me along the path of everlasting life.

Proverbs 7:2 Keep My commands and you will live; guard My teachings as the apple of your eye.

Proverbs 31:9 Open your mouth, judge righteously, and administer justice for the poor and needy.

Galatians 5:16 I say then: Walk in the Spirit, and you shall not fulfill the lust of the flesh.

May you hear the word of the Lord telling you that it will be well with you, as it is with all the righteous, for you will enjoy the fruit of your deeds. Isaiah 3

May you only see with your eyes the reward of the wicked, the ones whose words and deeds are against the Lord, defying His glorious presence, parading their sin like Sodom and not hiding it, for they will be paid back for what their hands have done. Isaiah 3

May you rejoice in the beauty and the glory of the Branch of the Lord and the fruit of the earth which will be the pride and pleasure of the survivors who remain in Jerusalem and are called holy. Isaiah 4

May you seek the shelter of the canopy of the glory of the Lord, a cloud for shade by day and glowing fire for warmth by night, giving a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain for all who will accept the cleansing from bloodstains by a spirit of judgment and a spirit of fire. Isaiah 4

May you have a high regard for the deeds of the Lord, and a great respect for the work of His hands in your life, lest you go into exile for lack of understanding His desire to draw you by His grace and accept you by His love. Isaiah 5

My child, draw near to Me and walk close to Me in familiar fellowship, satisfied in My love and comforted as the object of My thoughts. The supply of the world will be cut off, and the support of its people will be removed. I am the only source there will be, and My people, who have learned to know My voice and be led by My Spirit, are the only ones who will know how to find Me. I am the Lord who teaches you that which is profitable to learn and will prove beneficial to your lives, removing the consequences of past failures. I lead you in the proper pathway through life, showing you the right thing to do. Those who do My works for the praise of men are not of My own, for they have never humbled themselves, turning from their pride to seek after My heart. They still walk in their own ways, unrepentant, seeking that which is of the world and not that which is of the Father, and they will perish with the world unless they turn from their wicked ways to seek Me in sorrow and humility. Though the supply of food and medicine grows short, and the supply of goods becomes scarce for all who are in the world, My people shall not want, for I am your Shepherd. Though the support of civic officials decay, and justice can scarcely be found, though mature decisions from leaders are uncommon and wise counsel is rarely heard in public forums, My people shall walk in peace and certainty, for I am leading you in right paths beside still waters, and I am your strong defense. Do not set your affections on the things of this world, neither its nations or its institutions, its monuments or its memorials, for all these things shall pass away and be forgotten. Acknowledge them for what they are, and honor the courage and dedication they may represent, but do not make idols of them or give them the worship that is Mine. Have pity on, and show compassion for, all who realize there is more and are still searching, for these are My lost sheep, but do not strive with those who desire only to debate, those who are not seeking truth but only enjoy strife. My Spirit is still working with them, and I will bring you back to them when they are ready, lest they trample underfoot the pearls I give you. Stand on My Word, My precious one, and remain steadfast, enduring in the face of affliction, sheltered in the cleft of your Rock. Though your foot slips, My loving-kindness will uphold you, for I am your advocate and the Father is accepting of My intercession for you. I will strengthen you in order for you to strengthen your brothers. I am holding your hand, My lovely one, and though you stumble six times I will deliver you; even seven times, and evil will not touch you, for you will rise again and not know calamity. I am able to save forever each one who draws near to God through Me.

May you be humbly willing to be fed and nurtured by the Lord as a shepherd grazes his sheep in their pasture and his lambs among the ruins of the rich, for the Lord Almighty will be exalted by His justice, and the Holy God will show Himself holy by His righteousness. Isaiah 5

May you wait patiently for God to complete His work and fulfill the plan of the Holy One as the time approaches, giving mercy to those in the valley of decision, knowing woe is coming for those who call evil “good” and sorrow is laid up for all who put darkness for light, heartache will be waiting for those who are wise in their own eyes, drawing sin along with cords of deceit and wickedness as with cart ropes. Isaiah 5

May you be plain in speech and transparent in behavior toward others, not lifted by pride or turned by arrogance lest the gospel of Christ be disgraced, demonstrating God's compassion towards the poor and needy while withstanding the servants of God's adversary, whose end will be what their actions deserve. 2 Corinthians 11

May you rejoice and be glad when God restores the fortunes of His people and brings salvation for Israel out of Zion! Psalm 53

May you seek God and desire understanding, unlike the fool who says in his heart that there is no God. Psalm 53

[myristicisms]

Tawny fingers delicately ghost over familiar shoulders, the tips just barely brushing against pallid flesh playfully as a smirk quirks the corners of plush lips, mako eyes holding an intense warmth to them while fixating on doe features. Cloud was so pretty, he's always been pretty but to the raven haired warrior, Strife was prettiest in his arms. The way his hands could make that small waist look tiny, how lips pursed whenever canines would bury into alabaster skin and leave marks, all part of Cloud's beauty that drove Zack up the wall. There's a hideous creature that lays deep within his belly that purrs at each instance of leaving his claim upon the blonde, each kiss shared and words of endearment exchanged that somehow always resulted in the little creature uttering a pleased mine whenever he got to express just who managed to win over the younger man's heart.

There's also a relentless softness too, the desire to protect and sustain left over from spending so much of his time caring for the man and even more time yearning for him. Seeing how strong Cloud has grown only pushed that warmth and longing to intensify, adoration morphing into fondness and then eventually love and while the former SOLDIER was all the more interested in keeping that to himself, nothing ever quite goes the way he wants it to. It's amusing in a sort and only spurs him into growing more bold in his touches, the delicate ghost of his touch turning into a firm hold as his fingers trail down to that beloved waist, his chest pressed to the blonde's back as plush lips ghost over the shell of the man's ear, and with a smug grin atop his features, he makes sure his presence is announced in a low purr. “ Hey there hot stuff, you come here often? ”

@arcanecast | Cloud Strife;;

15. for a flirtatious starter .