meruberri: (Kindaichi // HajiMiyu ; mn boob pillow)
merurururu ([personal profile] meruberri) wrote in [community profile] bakerstreet2012-01-26 12:24 pm

the totally innocent


Whether it's for comfort or warmth some people just can't sleep without someone/thing to hold. Others hate it and are forced to put up with it from whoever it is they chose to share a bed with. Whatever your personal thoughts on the matter, this is what's happening now!

1. Comment with Character/Fandom/Specifications in the subject line. Don't be afraid to go into specifics about their bed and/or sleepwear in the op comment if you like.
2. Reply to others as their bed-mate. Are you firends, lovers, siblings, stranger on a cold night? Work it out.
3. Cuddling happens!
findmyownreason: (kiss my eyes)

Cloud Strife :: Final Fantasy VII

[personal profile] findmyownreason 2012-01-27 07:24 pm (UTC)(link)
beatrush: (pic#)

[personal profile] beatrush 2012-01-27 08:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The rain pours, the trees creak, and Tifa dreams.

It's a strange dream, at that. Something out of the depths of her memory, with darkness stretching away from her in every direction without end, a crippling feeling of loneliness and despair that has her palms into curling into loose fists, legs trembling now and again. In her dream, she runs -- hard, desperate, willing her strong legs to push past whatever's holding them back, whatever circle she's caught in, because they have to get out, she has to find --

A flash of lightning outside their window heralds a loud bout of thunder; coupled with the encroaching dark in her mind, it's enough to force a whimper past her lips, a whimper in the shape of Cloud's name. ]
findmyownreason: (my interrupted reality)

[personal profile] findmyownreason 2012-01-27 08:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[Denzel tucked back under the blanket he's kicked off. Marlene's stuffed chocobo returned to her sleeping arms. The curtains pulled a little bit tighter shut over the window to block out the storm thrashing outside. Cloud knows they don't need him to do that. They sleep through storms all the time when he's not home. But he can't help padding silently through the dark house, barefoot and in his loose t-shirt and sleep pants, checking doors and windows, checking on his family.

He hesitates outside Tifa's door though, torn between knowing he shouldn't intrude and wanting to go through the same routine with her that he's just finished with the kids. Maybe... just a peek? Just to make sure her window's closed...

His hand is already on the door handle when his hearing picks up a sound past the storm. His name. Tifa's voice. The door's open and he's stepping into her bedroom before it crosses his mind to even think about doing so. A quick look around the room, his eyes easily cutting through the dark, assures him nothing immediately wrong. Draws him to her bed. Pale eyebrows come down over glowing eyes. Nightmare? He knows that feeling far too well but what is he supposed to do to make it right for Tifa? He's pretty sure he's not even supposed to be in her room in the first place. He can't leave her in her dreams like that though...

"Tifa?" it's a hushed question and gingerly his fingers touch one of her balled hands.
beatrush: (pic#)

[personal profile] beatrush 2012-01-27 09:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Even through the haze of unconsciousness, some part of Tifa registers the gentle touch, recognizes it as Cloud. For a moment, it soothes her and she subsides, but in the next second her agitation begins again -- in the dream, it only confuses her further. Amid the pitch black that surrounds her, chokes her, her own name echoes in Cloud's voice.

But that should be impossible. He isn't there, she can't see him, only feel and hear just the faintest echo. ]


[ Plaintively said before dissolving into a wordless, sad little noise in the back of her throat, and her head turns on the pillow (in the darkness), her left leg jerking under the sheets (skidding to a stop). ]
findmyownreason: (out of the fog of my memories)

[personal profile] findmyownreason 2012-01-27 09:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[not good enough. She's still dreaming, still scared. His eyes fall for a second. What now? He doesn't have the heart to shake her awake or raise his voice to her. If she was one of the kids...

she's definitely not.


Brows down in determination, he steps back, letting go of her hand. It's that little noise of hers. He can't stand that sad, lost little noise. It makes his chest hurt, makes it hard to breathe. She can get mad at him later. Right now, he moves around the bed and then crawls into it behind her. There's no hesitation in the way he moves. She needs him. That's all that matters. So soon he's nudging up against her back in the dark, arms going around her from behind, pulling her back into the curve of his body even as he wraps himself forward around her, softly murmuring her name as he tucks her in close against him.]
beatrush: (pic#)

[personal profile] beatrush 2012-01-27 10:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The dream changes. Tifa's feet find purchase against the dark that's no longer dark, but grass, soft and rolling. The cold disappears, stars wink into existence around her, and it's almost as though she can sense Cloud there with her, even though it's just her under endless skies. A slow sigh as she settles down further under the sheets, presses back against the warmth behind her, and in her dream she stops running.

Because all of a sudden, it's as though whatever she was looking for is already there with her, there in the wind that's whispering her name, twining around the grasses. The next rumble outside only elicits a sleepy murmur from her in response, vaguely defiant.

She's safe. Take that, storm.

... safe, and ... are those arms around her? Her eyebrows twitch, lashes quivering as she shifts questioningly. ]
Edited 2012-01-27 22:17 (UTC)
findmyownreason: (Default)

[personal profile] findmyownreason 2012-01-27 10:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[his arms continue to shift around her, slowly working her closer back against him and one of his legs shifts forward, once he's sure she's not going to instinctively kick him, sliding between her ankles. She's gone still in his arms, body softening and he takes advantage of that, slipping one arm completely under her so that it's easier to wrap her up completely.

... it's... hard to stop once she's in his arms again. Hard not to just try to pull her completely into his body and bury himself as much around her as humanly possible.'s been a long time.

Behaving, he tucks his chin down against her shoulder, nose nudging near her ear, tickled by soft strands of her dark hair. One of his hands is spread over her stomach, soft and warm against his palm, enjoying the feel of one of his favorite spots on her. She shifts and he waits, pretty sure that he's overstepped his bounds with her and not sure how she'll react waking up to it. He's been very careful to only come where he's invited since his return, not wanting to push things and break what's been slowly mending between them. Shoulders curling forward to fit around her a little closer, he waits to see if she's going to wake up, wondering if he can get away with faking sleep if she does. He doesn't loosen his hold on her though. He can't.]
beatrush: (pic#)

[personal profile] beatrush 2012-01-27 11:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Arms, and ... a hand. That's got to be it. A familiar hand, a familiar touch, the most familiar presence she knows. The dream world begins to dissipate around her, her stomach muscles tighten and release under the touch, and even before Tifa wakes up completely, she knows. ]


[ It could practically be an exhale, mingling with her next intake of breath as her eyelids lift, heavy with sleep. Her own hand uncurls from the fist it's at on her side, lifts up to link her fingers with his, and she swallows as reality swims into full view. It's storming outside. She watches the raindrops slide down the windowpane, wondering if she's still asleep. It's ... been a while since Tifa's woken up like this. Since they've been like this. It's funny, her heart should be thudding a mile a minute (or at least half a mile), considering the fact that she's got Cloud against her back, spooned so snug around her that it's almost as though their heartbeats are pressed together.

Not yet, though. She changes that after another steadying breath, turning to face him, nose touching his chin. ]

Found you.

[ Whispered with a drowsy smile, eyes half-closed, shy but comfortable. The words aren't entirely conscious and if she wasn't as sleepy as she was, it's doubtful Tifa would've said them. But she does, because they sound ... right. She's been looking for him, after all, even if only in her dreams. ]
Edited 2012-01-27 23:17 (UTC)
findmyownreason: (caught in a moment)

[personal profile] findmyownreason 2012-01-27 11:31 pm (UTC)(link)
[the whisper of his name like that, the way she sighs it, has his own eyelids falling closed, has his own soft exhale as well. It soothes balm over the ragged worried edges of his heart the way she says his name and all he wants to do is curl around her closer and not let go never let go. He waits too long though, hesitating, and she pulls away.

He - understands. His arms loosen to let her.

Except she doesn't shift away from him. Instead she twists herself around, sheet and blanket, finds him again and nestles in close. He feels the impossible bump of her nose against his chin, the tumble of her body against his and knots in his chest he hadn't realized where forming fall apart. His eyes open, glowing in the dark and - slow - his arms find her again, wrapping close though not as desperately tight as before. Her hair tangles with his fingers and he leans in over her, his own body curving.

She came. She didn't pull away. His fingers slip up her back, urging her just a little bit closer. She sounds...

happy. She's... happy...]

Yeah. [it's a whisper on his part, a little throaty. She's all right with being like this with him. It's okay. They're okay.

He's okay.

His fingers stroke up her back again.]

Yeah. You found me.
beatrush: (pic#)

[personal profile] beatrush 2012-01-28 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
[ Another happy little nuzzle to his jaw when she feels Cloud draw close again, the warmth from his body driving away the last of her bad dream, and Tifa idly wonders at herself again. At how easy this is for the two of them, when it's been so long.

There's none of the customary flustered that overtakes her in the daytime whenever they interact -- careful, searchingly, mapping out in awkward words and gestures and touches what they are to each other now. It stays at bay, lets her slide an arm across Cloud's waist, loosely clinging to the back of his shirt. The touch to her back sends a pleased shiver through her, makes her sigh into the crook of his neck. ]

Thank you.

[ Still whispering, and she doesn't even know why. Maybe because Cloud's quiet too, because of the tattoo of the rain pattering on the sill behind them, because this moment is so surreal that speaking any bit louder might make it disappear.

She doesn't want it to disappear.

Tifa tilts her head up, the soft glow of his eyes meeting her own, and offers another smile, blinking. The taste of sleep is light in her mouth, so it couldn't be too late at night ... ]

What time is it? I didn't bother you, did I?
Edited 2012-01-28 04:05 (UTC)
findmyownreason: (at the end of all things)

[personal profile] findmyownreason 2012-01-28 05:11 am (UTC)(link)
[there's the slightest shift of his lips at her nuzzle, something that might almost be the curve of a small smile. Those nuzzles of hers always struck him as young and innocent. Something he treasured. His hum is the answer to her thank you. He didn't do anything but creep into her bed when she wasn't guarded. He doesn't know that it merits any kind of thank you but she hasn't thrown him out either so it must be okay on some level. He goes still when her arm slides over him, fabric over skin.

It feels like forever since she last reached for him...

So his eyes are a little young and vulnerable when she shifts and he tilts his head down to see what she wants. She looks... adorable. Sleepy Tifa always looks adorable and he resists the urge to react to what that does to him. Instead he listens, willing to wait forever if she wants him to and somehow her question doesn't surprise him at all.]

No. [she doesn't get to worry or fuss over him tonight. That's his job and he shifts, coaxing her closer again, wanting her tucked up into him.] I was already up. The kids are fine. I just... [his fingers curl on her a little bit, tightening.] I just wanted to check on you.
beatrush: (pic#)

[personal profile] beatrush 2012-02-02 07:44 am (UTC)(link)
[ The look in his eyes has her heartbeat fluttering inside her chest; it makes him seem younger, softens the edges of his face, the line of his brows. It reminds her of the way he used to look, once upon a lifetime ago, young and vincible and quietly intense, quietly magnetic. Her Cloud, the thought comes -- seemingly out of nowhere -- and something inside Tifa responds to that, protective and seeking reassurance all at once.

She can't help but lean into him some more, letting the pressure of his fingers on her ease her closer, this feeling of shared closeness sweep over her like warmth on a cold day. Teeth catch gently against a bottom lip at his words. ]

I'm glad. I -- [ And then she smiles, still biting her lip, touched and faintly guilty. Check in on her ... ] I'm always making you worry, huh.

[ A shake of her head before nestling it against his shoulder, as close as she can get, and Tifa pulls the sheets up so that they cover the both of them. Cloud's feet might get cold, after all. That's ... totally the reason she did that. And she's warming them by scrunching her toes against his, too. Yep. ]

Why are you up, though? Something on your mind?
findmyownreason: (Default)

[personal profile] findmyownreason 2012-02-02 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[it's easy to focus on her lips when her teeth are there, drawing his eyes but he forces himself to pay attention to everything else. This is the first time they've been this close since he came back and he doesn't want to do anything to mess it up between them. The way she pulls the covers over him as well includes him in her world, tells him it's okay for him to be there, that he's welcome and the tension lines in his shoulders relax a little bit at that unspoken assurance. Around her, his arms shift, wrapping more completely around her, thumb trailing over the small of her back as he listens to her, feeling the soft warmth of her through the fabric of whatever it is she's sleeping in. His own bare feet move to make room for her smaller ones, remembering the intimate little gesture of hers in a way that makes him ache for all the times it hasn't happened lately.]

I - [he's not good with words and he doesn't want to make a mess of this. He doesn't want to lose the feel of her in his arms and snuggling in so trustingly against him. He can take on worlds when she reaches for him, trusts him. He doesn't deserve it and he's afraid to lose it again. So his chin tucks and he presses his face into her hair, inhaling that clean scent so that it will fill his lungs all the way to the top.] I like worrying about you and the kids. It - I feel like I belong when I'm allowed to worry.

[his head lifts again at her question about why he's up though. The answer seems obvious to him and he reaches up to very gently brush hair back from her face, surprised by how soft she looks in the rain soaked night.]

It was raining.
beatrush: (pic#)

[personal profile] beatrush 2012-02-03 04:38 am (UTC)(link)
[ The smile grows when she feels him relax just so, the little tendrils of tense leaving his shoulders and fading away into the dark of the room. And the way his arms circle her more snugly, the touch at her back making her swallow a contented noise that would sound far too close to a purr right now, because as comfortable as she is -- as much as she wants this, as much as it feels so right -- some part of Tifa's still shy.

But not too shy, no. Her hair flutters when Cloud breathes in, and she sighs silently in reply, tilting her head up to nose gently at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, the cloth rubbing against her lips as well. She pauses and then presses a secret little kiss there, a bit of giddiness rippling the surface of her calm and content and composed at the action.

In the next second, however -- ]

Allowed to ...

[ The rest of the words falter before they can get past her lips. For a moment, she can't quite figure out what to say, how to take away that little pause in between his own words, the hesitance. Again that instinctive twist to her heart, as if it's reaching out to his and reaching for his at the same time, to comfort and to receive it both. ]

Cloud? [ She shifts between the sheets as his fingers softly sweep the hair from her face, making sure to keep the distance between them minimal. Because this is important. She can't mess this up, can't let him think that she's moving away from him, can't send the wrong signals. Another little nudge upwards so that she's face to face with him, eyes losing their last bit of drowsiness as they seek out his own. ]

You know you always belong with me, right?
findmyownreason: (shouldn't have asked)

[personal profile] findmyownreason 2012-02-03 06:42 am (UTC)(link)
[his arms relax, just a little, around her when she starts moving, not sure what she's doing but seconds later very, very sure that if she wants his brain to keep functioning she needs to not drag her body up along his like that. The worry in her eyes though is more than enough to snap him back into focus and his own brows start coming down again even before she says his name, wondering what's gone wrong.

He doesn't expect her question though.

Caught off guard, the vulnerability shows in the way his eyes lift and then sink, chin starting to tuck downward as well.

Does he know that she'll always hold a place for him with her?

...yes. Tifa hasn't let go of him through things that would have made any sane person go running for the door. Time after time. After time.

Does he really belong with her though...?

He wants to. Some days he's even sure he does. More days now than not. He doesn't doubt for a second that she's made for him and he's made for her. But... he's hurt her, all of his family, and even if they're willing to take him back, he hasn't earned that right. Not yet. He hasn't fixed things with them, hasn't made it up yet. He's trying but he's just not enough yet.

Belonging implies being enough.

His fingers move against the fabric of her shirt against her back and the length of silence he takes to wrestle with the question is telling enough. When he finally does speak it's soft and his eyes don't lift.]

I don't deserve that. Yet.
beatrush: (pic#)

[personal profile] beatrush 2012-02-04 07:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She can see him retreating back into his little shell as he considers what she's just asked, can see the flash of vulnerability in his eyes that makes her want to reach out and tug him away from wherever he's retreating to, to hold onto him and not let go.

And the longer he takes and the longer the silence goes on between them, the more she's tempted to do so. ]

But you do.

[ Tifa's voice is just as soft, but her eyes are still searching out his, willing the connection of their gazes if only so that she can make him understand through that alone, if her words aren't enough. Words are never enough -- words don't have to be enough. That's what she'd said to him, hadn't she? That night under the Highwind. Words aren't the only thing that tell people what you're thinking..." ]

You deserve us, you deserve -- everything.

[ Cloud certainly deserved the kids, the love and attention and adoration that warmed Tifa's heart to see each and every time. But as for her, did she deserve him? After all the times she'd failed him? She remembers finding the strips of stained cloth in the Church with Marlene, realization trickling into her cold and slow. Cloud, alone. Cloud, secluded. Cloud, not coming to her when he needed someone ... because ... ]

Everything I haven't been able to give to you.
findmyownreason: (out of the fog of my memories)

[personal profile] findmyownreason 2012-02-05 08:37 am (UTC)(link)
[of course, Tifa thinks he deserves everything. She's always thought more of him than he is and that's one of the reasons he can rise so high, bolstered up by both the drive to not disappoint her and by the swell of her own faith in him that lets him believe in himself as well. Just because she freely gives it though, doesn't mean he shouldn't still try to earn it. He's always had to earn his place. From the time he was a little kid, determined to be more than a small town loser, he's known that he had to earn the right for recognition, he had to earn the right to be more. A lot of that's faded over the past three years. He's not interested in being the world's hero anymore - if he ever was. And he's stopped caring what most think of him. Because the people he does care about are all that matter and their opinions of him are what give him his center and keep him strong.

That's why being a failure broke him down so much. Knowing that they'd accept it - but that, again, he'd been too weak.

So he doesn't disagree with Tifa's assessment of what he does and doesn't deserve because, for her, he already knows there's nothing she expects him to earn. It doesn't change the fact that he still wants to show her, prove to her, give her - ]


[his head does come up then, glowing eyes wide in the dark as they focus on her, suddenly intent in his study as if he can read her completely if he only pays enough attention to the details of her.

Because she's speaking a foreign language to him.]

Tifa? [his head ducks again but this time it's to bring their faces closer together, his eyes searching hers. Absolutely lost. One of his hands frees itself enough to lift, fingertips brushing her cheek while the other tightens on her as if afraid she'll pull away. Or be taken away. His mind skips like a record scratch, suddenly realizing that he's lost something important along the way that he should have noticed and adrift on how to figure out what it is.] What?
beatrush: (pic#)

[personal profile] beatrush 2012-02-05 07:59 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Hearing the bewilderment in his voice and seeing the question in his gaze, she realizes that she's spoken only half of what she meant to say out loud. And therefore she's not making sense, is she? Then again, it's hard for anything in Tifa to make sense where Cloud's concerned. There's nothing sensible about the way her breath catches when his face nears hers, after all, nothing sensible in the way that, even despite the guilt now beginning to seep in through the comfortable drowsiness she's been feeling thus far, she leans into his touch.

It's the other way around, Cloud, don't you see? ]

I don't deserve -- you. [ The words come out halting and slow, but Tifa offers him a smile with them to show that it's not something she blames him for, albeit a somewhat wobbly one. ]

I never -- really did, you know? But ...

[ Steadier now, more sure of herself since the whole point of this was not to wallow in reproach (no matter how much she wants to or thinks she ought to), but to drive it home to Cloud that she'd make up for it. Make up for everything.

He came back, right? He gave her that chance. He always gave her chances, so many chances for her to reach out and grab. He'd followed her up Mt. Nibel, he'd made her that promise, he'd found her again just when she needed him -- needed a hero to save her. And then he'd returned to her time and time again, even though with each passing time she'd thought she would run out of whatever luck it was that was allowing them to be with each other.

She'd make up for every one of those lost chances. ]

... That doesn't mean that you take the blame for that too, okay?
findmyownreason: (Default)

[personal profile] findmyownreason 2012-02-06 09:03 am (UTC)(link)
[his eyes are wide, still vulnerable and a little lost at their edges as he listens to her.

she thinks...

She thinks -

Brows starting to come down, blue eyes starting to go lightning and storm, he pulls a little away from her. She thinks she doesn't deserve him? The pull away is only so that he can roll onto his side facing her, leaning over her again, frowning as he watches her face.

How badly has he messed this up? He thought he'd made a mess of things but - he's had no idea he broke things this badly.]

You don't. [it's firm and clear, not a trace of doubt or hesitation in his eyes.] You don't deserve me, Tifa. [an exhale and he lowers his face to rest his forehead against hers, arms slipping around and under her.] You deserve a someone that's going to be there when you need him. You deserve someone that remembers to call when he's going to be late coming home. You deserve someone that's there for you. Somebody that knows what to say, someone that doesn't mess things up. You deserve someone that doesn't fold up or run away on you when things get hard or he gets scared.

[she's the village sweetheart, the fairy tale girl next door, the hopeless soldier's dream. She's sanity and safety and the keeper of who he is when he loses it himself. She's the one he's always wanted to be the hero for and the arms he's always wanted to fall into. She's hurt and human and flawed and she still shines like polished gold, perfect because of those things, not in spite of them. How did he manage to break her down so completely that she'd ever doubt that? Drawing back just enough to look into her beautiful eyes, he promises:]

I'm not any of those things. Not yet. But - I'm trying. I will be. I'll be what you deserve. You've always been there when I needed you. Now it's my turn. I'm going to be here for you, Tifa. This time, I'm not running away again.
Edited 2012-02-06 09:04 (UTC)
beatrush: (pic#)

[personal profile] beatrush 2012-02-26 06:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ ... uh oh. She's messed up again, hasn't she?

The look in his eyes makes her breathing hitch, the way they spark and intensify making something within her tighten and whether that's good or bad, she can't tell right away. Then he's pulling away, and for a moment, it's definitely taking a turn for the bad, her lips press together, a hard and involuntary reaction of distress.

But Tifa's heart doesn't have time to stop and grow cold when he says you don't, her arms don't have the chance to stiffen around him as he shifts. Because Cloud's not going away, he's leaning closer in -- he's --

The words flow over her and cover her in warmth, just like Cloud himself is doing right now, the weight and heat of his body pressing down on hers, the arm around her waist. Tifa's eyes slide shut as she listens to him, bites her bottom lip and slowly rubs her forehead against his, back and forth. Dazed. Half-disbelieving that this is happening, that he's saying these things -- how long has it been since they've had a good, long talk together? One that they've needed. And she'd been telling herself lately that they would have to soon, that she'd have to start one, because there was so much left unsaid between them.

So many little mistakes building a wall of errors, so many little silences pooling into a gulf of quiet between them. And here was Cloud again, fixing them. Fixing what she'd broken. ]

Cloud ... [ It's a whisper, because she can't make herself speak louder. Her voice would either shake or break, neither of which she can afford. She has to be strong, like Cloud's doing right now, like he's always done, been her rock, been her steadying hand. Been her hero. ]

I love you. [ ... and those weren't quite the words she'd been trying to come up with, but. They're the ones that are right at the top of the clamouring in her mind and heart. They always are, really. ]

I love you so much.
findmyownreason: (at the end of all things)

[personal profile] findmyownreason 2012-02-26 07:13 am (UTC)(link)
[he loves the way she says his name.

Even when it's shaken and weak the way it is now, he still loves the way she says his name. Because her heart is always behind it, as if it's a language all it's own. She says a thousand different things when she says his name and she has a thousand different ways of saying it. Each time she does, he feels as if a part of him is coming home. So his own eyes are lidding as she says it and the tight muscles along his shoulders are relaxing because she knows him, she accepts him. For some reason, she even forgives him - if she ever held anything against him to start.

She trusts him when he says he'll make it right.

But then she goes one step further and his heart trips inside his chest.

Does he know Tifa loves him? Of course he does. Even when he was half lost in other voices and too confused to deal with it, he'd known. It's been in her beautiful eyes for so long now. And he knew, somehow, that no matter how bad he got, she'd keep loving him. Even if he didn't deserve it.

Even if she didn't want to anymore.

It doesn't mean that his heart doesn't tighten up any less painfully in his chest to hear her say it or that it doesn't still take his breath away.]

Tifa... [it's his turn to barely be able to get words out and her name is a sigh, a prayer, everything he wants wrapped up into simple sounds. He's not sure he deserves to hear those words right now - but they mean everything to him. Something deep inside that's been knotted all this time finally slips quietly loose and it's as if he can suddenly breathe again. His arms around her tighten, pull her closer into him before he has to finally free a hand to cup her cheek. He has to pull back because he has to see her eyes.] Tifa? [his thumb strokes her skin, noticing all over again how soft and how warm it feels. His nose bumps hers before he even realizes he was leaning closer.]

I love you too. [words don't come easy to him but these are important. He should have said them a long time ago.] Always have. I never stopped. [he left for a lot of reasons. Not loving her wasn't one of them. And the only thing to do then, the only thing he's wanted to do for the longest time, is to lean in that last tiny space and kiss her, hoping that that's okay. That she'll let him.]
beatrush: (pic#)

[personal profile] beatrush 2012-02-26 11:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Time and time again, she’d imagined all the different ways she would say this to him, trying to come up with the perfect one. On a warm afternoon, perhaps, Marlene and Denzel playing off in the distance, her hand finding his at the right moment. Or during the winter, under mistletoe and the glow of a crackling fire, her head nestled against his shoulder. Or maybe on an evening out, face to face amid candles and roses and fireworks, stars flashing down on them from an inky sky just like that night by the well so long ago.

But now? Instead of fireworks, there is only the slamming of thunder outside, forked across with lightning; instead of being dressed up to the nines, she's curled up on an unmade bed, hair and clothing mussed, thoughts disarrayed, mouth still tinged faintly with sleep and weariness. She never thought it would be like this.

Her arms shift until they're comfortably linked around him, fingers splaying over relaxing muscles and the skin of his bared shoulders as though they can't quite believe what's beneath them without feeling it for themselves. They clench down briefly as she listens to the sound of her name in his voice, eyes stinging hard as they search his -- open and honest and the only anchor she's ever needed.

The noise that leaves her when he says he's never stopped loving her is almost a sob, not quite a laugh.

Some part of her has always known, hasn't it? While the rest of her kept on wondering and worrying, wishing on shooting stars that didn't exist. Deep inside, the same part that knew all along they'd make it in the end, that Cloud was Cloud, even when everything else was a roil of uncertainty around them, when nothing made sense. Even when she doubted herself, she didn't doubt him -- couldn't doubt him, her memories of him. Their memories. Their past. Their future.

Then Cloud's leaning closer, and Tifa can sense the emotion that's been welling up inside her become a sort of storm, threatening to drown her. But it doesn't, just sweeps over her instead, as slow and as gentle as the last ripple of a wave meeting the shore. The world blurs when their lips meet, a long tremble going through her as she presses up against him. One leg curls over both of his, hands sliding into soft, golden spikes, and her heart aches with a love so sharp that she thinks it'll break, doesn't care if it does.

God, it's like she's breathing for the first time. ]
Edited 2012-02-26 23:15 (UTC)
findmyownreason: (Default)

[personal profile] findmyownreason 2012-02-27 05:12 am (UTC)(link)
[if he felt any fear, any hesitation or worry about how she'd respond to his kiss, she sweeps it away with her whole-hearted response to him. He feels the way she wraps herself around him as if she's never going to let go and it gives him the permission to do the same, both arms winding as completely around her as he can get them, pulling her up and into him tightly. He loves touching her but at the moment the simple act of being able to hold, of being held, pours into all those dry, empty parts of him. All those long, lonely nights on that thin bed in his office. All the times her eyes would break his heart and he'd know he'd done something wrong. Those miserable nights in the church, so far from his family and his home. All the times he's wanted to hold her and didn't or couldn't.

He doesn't know if he'll ever be able to let go now that he's finally got her in his arms again.

He draws back from that first tentative kiss with an inhale before quickly ducking in close again, afraid if he stops for too long she'll decide that's enough. His lips find hers again, an almost desperate press. He's been good, he's stayed away, he hasn't pressed or assumed his place. Last time he made the decisions for them all. This time he doesn't dare. It doesn't mean he's wanted it that way. Just - that this time it's her choice.

It's her choice and his lips soften over hers.

He's the one that stepped outside the family and only she can let him back in.