Learning to Live

Vincent:



Vincent was just summoning the will to move when he felt Tifa’s limbs encircle him, thwarting his movement. He heard her whispered plea and red eyes closed. Gaia, but he knew he’d be roasting in immortal hell forever when the sun rose, for she would be gone from his arms and life once more, leaving him alone and bereft. But you knew this, gunslinger, he heard Chaos sulk. You knew this from the moment she walked in the door. Shoving the irritant away, Vincent inhaled a deep breath, forcing his traitorous body to behave.



“Tifa,” he began, hoping to inject some semblance of reason into this, but he failed miserably and said instead, “…the floor is hardly the place.” Turning his head to kiss her gently, gods that he was allowed this pleasured sin, he added, “The bed is much more suited, I’d think.”



Before she could reply or protest, Vincent commanded his abused muscles to obey and withdrew from her, gracefully rising to his feet. With catlike grace and agility, he lifted her in strong arms and carried her to his bedroom, reflexively kicking the door closed behind them. Vincent knew dawn would be breaking soon; it was almost five a.m. But the thick dark curtains over the windows kept out most of the light.



He strode to the bed and laid Tifa atop the stirred sheets, stretching her on her stomach as he slithered beside her. Draping his long body half-over hers, Vincent’s lips nuzzled aside long falls of hair, nipping at the nape of her neck with gentle kisses and bites. Calloused hands roamed her body, gently rubbing the sore spots and endeavoring to coax soft moans by teasing the familiar curves and hollows. Vincent’s tongue traced her ear then dipped within as his hands encircled her body and cupped her breasts, thumbs and forefingers assaulting her nipples as teeth worried at the delicate shell.



“Shall I give you more, Tifa?” he purred roughly. “I want to hear you moan for me, pant my name as I do wicked, wicked things to you…” He growled, partially in irritation at the gleeful snickering of the demon behind his mind for putting those evil thoughts in his eyes. But in retrospect, it wasn’t as offensive as he first thought, particularly in light of the woman squirming beneath him.





Tifa:



Arching her back to give his hands easier access to her breasts, Tifa moaned softly, hearing herself whisper, "Yes, Vincent..." Then her mind overcame the sensation of his hands upon her, the weight of his body and the feel of warm, warm skin long enough to bring to her attention one of her previous lamentations. She squirmed and wiggled, turning over and finding now-familiar lips while hands soothed the welts she'd made upon his back, surprised they had not healed.



The thought was quickly pushed away as she pulled her mouth from his to whisper, "I want to see you this time, Vincent. I want to see my lover." Mine, all mine. At least for a while longer. Reason would come later to determine anything further, and an unconscious part of her wept that he might retreat further into his shell than before, never to be coaxed out again.



He will make an addict of you, Tifa, a little voice warned, followed quickly by another. Yes, but what a beautiful addiction. Savor it, every minute... in case it never comes again. It wasn't the sex she would be hooked on. No, it was the man, with blood-red eyes that would haunt her dreams like an incubus. The thoughts of what-if and never-again were flung far in favor of seeking an image of the body that went with those eyes.





Vincent:



The sheets rustled slightly with his movement and suddenly a soft glow filled the bedroom, the lamp beside the bed turned to its lowest setting. Vincent didn’t return to her immediately, but took a long moment to look his fill. Beautiful didn’t cover the woman lying beside him, those dark sated eyes roaming over his own flesh.



Even in this time of peace, Tifa still maintained an athlete’s body, but sensual and curved in all the right places. Full heavy breasts, trim sleek waist, smooth lithe hips and long strong legs, no part of her wanted for a languid crimson caress. Roaming back up her body, Vincent’s eyes encountered her lips, full and glistening from their passion-filled kisses. He slowly licked his own, savoring the sweet taste of her.



But the night was waning and, now that he’d had her, once just wasn’t enough. Could never be enough, a forbidden part of his mind panted. Moving slowly, wishing to take time to really savor her, please her, seduce her, Vincent gently settled back atop her, carefully parting her thighs and nestling his hips between. His body was heating again slowly, stirring against the warm flesh pressed so tightly against his groin. His hips rocked against hers torturously slow as he lowered his head to her mouth, but changed course before claiming her lips, choosing instead to stroke his tongue down the valley between her breasts.



Lapping at the sweet flesh, wetting it so thoroughly, Vincent placed small tender kisses there, before his tongue lazily drew hot circles in an unhurried spiral upon her left breast. Cresting the mound, he paused, then so deliberately and carefully drew the peaked nipple into his mouth, catching it between his teeth, his tongue suddenly harshly assaulting the sensitive flesh.



Simultaneously, both hands slipped beneath her rump to lift her hips, grinding her against him in wicked assault, sliding only the tip of his now-hardened shaft just inside her heated flesh. A purred chuckle left his lips as his head lifted and he paid the same homage to the other breast, drinking in the flavor of her silken skin.





Tifa:



When the light was turned on, bathing pale flesh in a warm glow, Tifa gasped. Not at the sight of the scars, no, though they were many, but at the sight of the chiseled frame that she'd mapped in her mind. Gaia but he was more glorious than she imagined... and Tifa was a woman who prided herself in a very good imagination. She stared openly at the evidence of his arousal with wide eyes. I'm going to be walking like a duck for days... she realized belatedly, but could not really care.



Then, that body, perfect even with its scars, returned to her and their discovery began anew. Wicked things, indeed. The word barely described the fires he was re-stoking inside her, a throbbing pulse in the space that, prior to tonight, she hadn't known was so empty. His mouth pulled moans from her chest upwards with its warm, wet smoothness and the slightly rougher tongue that teased one nipple, then the other. Planet, and she thought his hands had been good!



The heavy flesh that pushed and nudged between slick folds only to stop just there made her whine for more, hips bucking under him to get just a little more of what she'd had earlier. Patience, Tifa! she told herself. Enjoy this, take your time. You have more exploring to do, remember? Ahh, yes. Yet first, she was resolved to let him torture her just a bit longer, knowing he was as starved as she, possibly more. It didn't stop her from whimpering his name in a plea, though.



"Vincent... Mmm... more."





Vincent:



Vincent hid a grin against her breasts at the mewls that tripped from Tifa’s luscious lips. It was so odd, this situation. Yesterday, he’d thought himself unable to ever suffer another human soul even casual conversation, and here in the fading watches of the night he found himself making glorious love to Tifa Lockheart, a woman he’d never dared dream within his reach. It surprised him how much he longed to bury himself in her again and again and again until both were spent from exhaustion and shared ecstasy, but he knew subconsciously that would be futile. And over far too quickly.



In his Turk days, he’d taken affection where he could find it, but usually those one-night stands were few and very far between, as his duties seldom left him time for extracurricular activities. But Vincent prided himself on being thorough, no matter what the task, thus he set about his former conviction of giving this needing woman exactly what she craved.



Rather than take her unspoken offers, her body lifting to his, her whimpers and moans, Vincent trailed his lips from her breasts down her body, mapping the quivering muscles with his tongue. Long black hair trailed over his shoulders and arms to brush feather light caresses over Tifa’s golden skin, the contrast lovely against the midnight strands.



As his tongue circled her navel, he placed a kiss to the gentle swell just beneath it, then carefully nipped at the quivering skin before dipping his tongue within, sighing softly against her. Inquisitive fingers curved ‘round her rump, languidly kneading taunt flesh. Urging her hips up, two fingers deftly parted her and slipped within from behind, urging her leg up and over his shoulder as his head further lowered.



Dexterous fingers slowly moved in and out of her as his dark head lowered between her legs, taking a long moment to just feel her beneath him. Pressing against heated lushness, he inhaled tickling curls and teasingly nipped at the tender bud of flesh guaranteed to make her writhe. Circling it with his tongue, Vincent pressed his fingers deeper inside her a bit more forcefully, relinquishing his assault of before to allow his tongue to join the deep penetration his fingers had instigated.



With a hungered groan, his mouth fastened over Tifa’s swollen female lips and nibbled the tender flesh as he thrust his tongue deep inside her, swirling and writhing the wet muscle inside exquisite feminine heat.





Tifa:



Tifa's brain registered where he was going before he got there, yet that didn't stop her eyes from going wide and it certainly didn't prepare her for the exquisite sensation his mouth and fingers made as he twisted and curled digits and tongue within her.



"Vi-Vincent!!" she found herself gasping as her body jerked. With her back arching off the bed and hands grasping her own aching breasts, Tifa moaned a score to the feeling, sight and sloppy sounds of Vincent's dark head between her legs, wine-red eyes staring so intently up her body. Feet planted firmly on his back to press him harder into her while thighs spread wide and hips rolled instinctively. Her hands finally ceased kneading breasts in favor of fisting tightly around handfuls of onyx hair that spilled over her thighs and tickled her belly. She could take no more. So close she rode, so frustratingly near to satisfaction, kept there by actions careful enough to drag her along the edge of oblivion.



Tifa chewed her bottom lip, breaths hissing between her teeth as her features contorted in pleasure that was almost too much, and yet not enough. "Damn it, Vincent..." she ground out with a ragged moan.





Vincent:



Vincent growled as Tifa yanked his hair, the pain instantly translating into pleasure. Funny, before he’d never considered himself a masochist, yet the marks he’d been given earlier had thrown his brain straight off the deep end. And made him twitch now. Refusing to dwell on the nuance, instead focusing on the lovely task before him, Vincent placed one hand on Tifa’s stomach to hold her down as he finished his work, male pride swelling at her gasps, bucks, pants and moans.



But his pride wasn’t the only part of him improving its girth. To see her splayed before him thus made his loins ache with the need to sate her, plunge so deep into the inviting silk and fuck her senseless. Again.



A smirk rode those expressive lips as he lifted his head and arched an eyebrow, meeting her lust-filled gaze. Chuckling, he pressed small kisses to her inner thigh and said huskily, “Yes, Tifa? Is there a problem?”



Giving another nip to the gently rounded swell of her abdomen, Vincent crawled up her body, placing unhurried bites to flushed slick skin and ending at her lips. Tracing her mouth with his tongue, he slipped a finger between her lips as he bit at the corner of her mouth, tongue sliding down her throat. A sinuous growl slithered in his ears and an evil chuckle left his throat.



“So good,” he rumbled at her ear, laving the delicate skin with long wet tongue-strokes. “Gods, Tifa,” he grated, muscles tensing as he ground above her, “I could fuck you forever and still not get enough.”



The sight of her and remembered feel, taste and smell were slowly unhinging his mind, bringing far too long suppressed desires to the front of his brain where normally stoicness and sense ruled. They were seething just beneath the surface, reveling in the blood surging through his veins. Oh, but he wanted…





Tifa:



Panting to recover breath, face and chest flushed, Tifa's lithe form sagged against silken black sheets when his assault finally ended. It left her aching, wanting for more, but for the moment she could at least gather her wits about her. Her mouth opened to say something, and she instantly forgot what as his finger slid into her mouth and she tasted herself, salty-sweet and slick over the long, tapered flesh. She whimpered, eyes shut as her tongue unwillingly wrapped around the digit, stroking until the taste faded from his skin as he withdrew. It was so dirty, what he'd just done, what she'd just done! Yet such a thrill shot through her from just the notion, and his words alone were enough to make her moan once more. She was vaguely aware that she spoke her thoughts aloud.



“Oh Gaia, Vincent, you have no idea how much I'd love just that..."



Then her body decided it had lain prone for long enough. Inexperienced she was, yet she was determined to find every way to please him, and with that in mind she rolled them over, pinned him hard to the sheets. Brows drew low over eyes nearly dark enough now to be jet, long, fine strands of her hair falling in a curtain around their faces as she breathed against his lips, not touching.



"Forever..." Though not matching his full strength, powerful arms pinned his own against the pillows. "Again, and again..."



The tip of her tongue touched his nose while hips ground on his in slow motions full of intent. "Until I can't walk..."



One hand dared to leave his long enough to drag through his hair, tugging the bangs that had hidden part of his devilishly handsome face.



"Until you can't move..." She rotated her hips until she felt the bare tip of that tremendous girth slide between lips wet from his tongue and her desire, holding him just so. She purred and closed those eyes so full of lust and hunger.



"Sounds good, after all..." Her head dipped to whisper in his ear between flicks of her tongue.



"A night like this can never be long enough." Dangerous territory, her mind reminded. Ahh, but treasures are never hidden in places safe to tread. If he gave her so much, so quickly in a single night, only to snatch it all away, Tifa felt as if she might wither. Whether or not that happened, she wished him to know that he, this was not merely done of desperation for another man. If it had been, it wouldn't have been his name she spoke so often and with such need.



She let the words sink in while her lips played along his neck, down his collarbone, and finally set back to retracing a trail cut short earlier.





Vincent:



Vincent willingly fell to his back, arms around her to pull her atop him and instantly pulled her astride his hips, moaning as she swayed. Her reply seared his ears, smoking along his nerves until he fancied he’d combust right there on the spot. He let her pin him, truly a willing captive. Panting against her devilish lips, he licked at her mouth as she breathed words across his flaming skin. Sanguine eyes drifted closed as Vincent moaned her name, moving his hips beneath hers.



By the Planet, but he longed to surge up and inside her, to bend her backwards over his arms and make her ride him until she collapsed. Breathless, he managed to growl, “…so very good.”



His lips suckled her shoulder as she licked his ear, jerking his hips beneath her just a bit, enough to grind the turgid aching flesh between them against scalding moistness. His head tipped back eagerly as she kissed and caressed his throat, hands rising to flatten palms against her back, carefully dragging blunted nails down her spine to grip her buttocks.



“Tifa…” he groaned on a ragged breath, wondering if he’d survive her interrupted seduction. Unable to help himself, he gave her rump a hard squeeze and snuck his hands between them to cup and fondle those luscious breasts, thumbs tweaking the nipples harshly even as he smirked, a devious light in those blazing crimson eyes.





Tifa:



A sigh as she paused at his attentions, but Tifa would not be deterred for long. Tongue and lips, teeth and nails brushed and raked over every scar, taking her path slowly as she had the first time. Her body protested his absence between her legs, yet resolutely she stayed her course, nibbling flat nipples ‘til the very tips made tiny peaks on rippling pectorals. He was so thin; Tifa would never have imagined how well his body was built under all those clothes. The lack of sheer bulk did not take away from perfect definition, and though unsure how to convey it to him, the scars that marred him increased his sex appeal in her eyes.



Eyes lifted their gaze to his and she bit one of those sensitive marks, teeth leaving tiny indentations. Lower, over the small rises and falls of a chiseled abdomen, then her tongue dipped into his navel as she purposefully and carefully bypassed his member, soon trailing down to stop at the thin line of soft, black curls that began at his belt-line.



Fingers took over where her mouth left off, trailing over his hips, down his thighs and back up, leaving red marks when she suddenly squeezed the flesh. Hot breath fell against his neglected need as studious eyes watched him twitch and throb for her. Her pink tongue licked over reddened lips once, before slipping out between them to flick the engorged head. Hands remained elsewhere, circling and kneading from his sides, over his hips and down his thighs again.



Tifa tasted the salt, the sweat, her own flavor, and the taste that was entirely Vincent as she laved the tip with soft, cat-like licks at first, then with generous wetness and warmth. Down the underside of the shaft, then back up, curious, flaming gaze kept on his eyes now and she watched for each reaction. Finally one of her hands joined in, lifting him as she fit her mouth over the end, moving down in a slow, attentive motion.



Writhe for me, my Valentine. Planet knows, I have writhed and begged for you...





Vincent:



A muted whine throbbed in his ears and Valentine dimly realized his raw throat was making the damning noise. Forcing his eyes open, he stared unseeing at the ceiling through a bloody haze of pleasure as all his nerves tingled in appreciation of Tifa’s devastating torture. Gods, but he’d forever remain a willing prisoner. Knowing it was his due for his own earlier torment, Vincent ground his teeth and flattened his hands to the mattress, lest he snatch her arms, haul her over and just work in her…Gaia! his brain screeched at the thought and he stifled a yell as nails scored his flesh.



Giving in to the need to pant lest he faint, Vincent involuntarily arched his back, the pain shooting straight to his groin and quivering there. The beasts inside him purred and trembled, anticipating the next moves. Unable to do anything but shiver, Vincent tentatively glanced down to see Tifa’s dark head hovering over him, then her tongue as she licked the attentive flesh just begging for her. A shriek whistled from between his teeth as his eyes slammed closed and he bucked, unable to help himself.



Never in all his years had his body been so worshipped; he’d always been the attentive lover, giving, never taking. Claws slipped his nail beds and he spasmed, shredding furrows in the expensive sheets as she loved him with her mouth. Vincent’s knees bent, pushing his hips upward as he silently pleaded for more. Her mouth enveloped him and he groaned, slamming his head back upon the pillows. His skin rippled as he bucked, Chaos seething beneath the quivering flesh.



It took his spasmodically working throat three tries to croak, “…T-Tifa…don’t…d-don’t…” Another shudder enveloped his long body as her hands joined her mouth and pressure built, both in Vincent’s steaming brain and at the base of his throbbing engorged length, both threatening to explode far too soon. “…Tifa…for fuck’s sake…d-don’t…” His muttered curse trailed off on a noise crossing between a roar and a hiss.





Tifa:



The sight of him, the sound of him, the way he moved for her and pleaded for more, it was simply glorious. She could not hope to hold him down, wouldn't even if she could, watched as the beast within rose again and clawed the fine sheets under her torture. Don't, he was saying. She knew that to pull back would calm him just enough and he would take her again, and how she yearned for that... yet the temptation was too great. Tifa knew well that his body was just as desperate and starved as hers, even more, and he would rise for her again and again until he could no longer move. That knowledge, combined with the want to just watch him crash into his zenith drove her to do just the opposite of what he pleaded.



Lips tightened over the girth they held, teeth barely scraped velvet-soft skin as she suckled on each upstroke. The hand that stroked the base where her mouth could not reach moved up to take the place of lips and tongue for the brief moment it took her to pant, "Yes, Vincent."



Eyes sparkled with dark mischief and the smoky haze of want. "Go ahead, I want to watch you..." He had freed something within her in the night. Something she'd never known was there. His primal nature loosed upon her only fed and nurtured it, until it grew into the kind of boldness Tifa had never found any other outlet for.



She took him greedily into her mouth again, tongue worrying the tiny hole and swirling every ridge and vein as she pushed down, as far as she dared, and retreated in a long, hard suckle of him with her eyes never leaving his face.





Vincent:



Razor-sharp talons clicked together as his fingers flexed. His leash was slipping, dangerously so. He felt Chaos pushing, seizing this loss of his control and shoving hard. Vincent fought it, sweat glistening on pale, pale flesh. He struggled against the oncoming freight shuttle that was blazing down upon his brain with all his strength, but at hearing her fevered words, finally admitted defeat. …want to watch you…



Gods, but to have his release…! Roaring, he snatched Chaos back from its gleeful playground and threw the demon into the pit of his mind deemed for it, yanking his concentration back to Tifa, her lovely lips and tongue playing sinful havoc his body. Though claws still shredded the sheets, wings no longer threatened to rip from his back. He pulsed in her mouth, he whimpered and moaned, all but thrashing in desperation and desire.



But the suction of that lovely mouth finally had him undone. Seeing her dark head rising and falling between his legs and feeling the exquisite warmth that enveloped his member, Vincent’s brain finally exploded, taking his body with it. In a brief panicked moment, claws grabbed her forearms, wanting to remove her mouth before he ruptured down her throat, but the tips dug into soft flesh as he flailed backwards and voiced a ragged rough scream, shaking as the white-hot fire of orgasm rode him. Vincent’s teeth clenched and breath flared through his nostrils as he spasmed under her, jerking and bucking heavily. The wetness of her mouth and his seed covered his groin, burying him in warmth; still he shuddered and quaked.



After his heart began beating once more (as he was damn sure it’d stopped somewhere in there), Vincent’s muscles fell slack from the tremendous strain and he collapsed against the mattress, spent and exhausted. His scarred chest rose and fell with still-labored breathing as he tingled all over. But Planet, he was unable to raise his head to save his damned soul. With the depletion of passion, his fingers returned to normal state and he sighed, a long shivering breath as tiny aftershocks of pleasure rippled through him.





Tifa:



She would have winced at the flare of pain in her forearms, but for being enraptured by the vision before her. Hot, thick liquid filled her mouth, and she swallowed if for no other reason than to show no part of him disgusted her. She soothed with softer kisses and licks as he softened in her mouth, then kissed a path back up his body. Straddling him once more, slowly rocking her hips to sate her own desire, just a little, Tifa stared down at the man she'd made so helpless, who'd become that way so willingly. She dipped to kiss his lips once more, noting how limp his body was.



Arousing him again might take more effort than before, but she smiled at her handiwork. She would be forced to wait a little longer for her own satisfaction, yet watching him in the throws of passion, undistracted by her own pleasure, then seeing his complete undoing in rapture and the way he trembled even now, it was more than worth it.



Hands threaded through his hair again as she whispered between soft kisses, "Has anyone made you feel like that before?" I want to be the only one. The thought should have shocked her, but did not in her current state of mind. Even the blood that trickled in a thin trail down each arm was missed by her, as the tiny cuts from his talons no longer burned much.





Vincent:



Somewhere in his dazed mind, Vincent felt Tifa crawl back up his body, felt the small warm kisses she bestowed on still-flaming skin. Opening languid dark red eyes to gaze at her, his arms automatically came around her hips as she straddled him. He sighed satisfaction as she moved on him, the sweet pain a dull ache, now. Vincent lazily returned her kisses, draping arms across her back and slowly stroking.



Shaking his head to her query, he replied in a raw husky purr, “Never. …never like that. Mmm…” he took another soft kiss, a contented smile playing over his lips. “…when I was a Turk, never had a girlfriend. Or lover. Just took what I could get. Wasn’t often.”



Long fingers combed through her hair, trailing over her scalp as he petted, those crimson eyes hazy and lidded. “Always tried to make ‘em love me. Never worked. Couldn’t.” Vincent’s kisses moved to her cheeks, her jaw, her throat and back to her lips, snagging nips between his words.



But his eyes lowered and suddenly he hissed in shock, going rigid to see the bloody trails marking her arms. “Tifa…! What-did I…!” Frantic eyes flew to her face as memory flooded him, remembering his throes and talons cutting into undeserving flesh.





Tifa:



Sadness coiled in her chest as she listened to his words. Never? Not even once did you have someone care for you? Amazing, the gems that were overlooked in this world while frivolous minds attached themselves to less meaningful fancies and undeserving recipients. She was more than thankful to have part of what others had passed over, even if for a night.



As her lips parted to tell him just that, he went rigid and she saw fear in his eyes, and froze. She'd never seen that before, and worry cut deeply into her. Then recognition came at his words and as she followed his gaze and her eyes softened.



"Vincent, it's alright..." She sat up a little more to bring one arm in front of her, between them, for his inspection. The flow had already stemmed off to a few drops that welled slowly.



"It's not deep, don't worry." She tried to reassure him with her eyes and voice, while her other hand still stroked through his hair.



"It's ok," she restated. "I'm fine."



That he was so ashamed, so afraid that he'd hurt her moved her in a bittersweet way.





Vincent:



The horror of what he’d done sank into his brain and Vincent’s face drained of all color as he saw the marks in Tifa’s arm. He could have killed her… He stifled a wrenched cry behind his teeth and jerked his head away, letting his hair hide the shame that marred his face. Tifa tried to soothe him but Vincent would not be comforted. Breath hitched in his chest and he balled his fists, slamming both to the mattress.



You’re such a monster, gunslinger, he heard Chaos slyly snicker. Such a beast. The previously mentioned cry burst forth this time as he fought with his internal demons, heaving up and sending Tifa tumbling back on the bed.



Vincent hit the floor shaking. He panted, though this time not from desire, but from a burning need to win. Chaos, however, was having none of it and pushed, pushed and pushed, utilizing all of Vincent’s former emotional unbalance to batter at that normally indomitable will. Fingers flexed as claws burst forth and Vincent screamed as his shoulders heaved, the skin parting with an audible rip! as huge demonic wings burst forth. He tasted blood in his mouth as upper and lower canines ripped through his gums, forcing another roar from his inhuman throat. His flesh hardened and began to glow, as did the bled eyes, shining gold replacing the dark scarlet.



Jerked to his knees by some unseen force, Chaos threw back Vincent’s head and bellowed, wings flexing with eerie sibilance. Lips rippled in a vulpine snarl as the beast whirled, golden eyes spearing Tifa across the room. Sharp talons clicked in anticipation but a frown marred Vincent’s features, then suddenly he hit his knees again, convulsing. Crying in pain at the betrayal of his own body, he forced the snarling thing back into its prison, unable to shriek due to heaving breath as the wings cracked and refolded into his flesh.



Familiar scarlet flooded his eyes once more and he blinked, transformation complete, then collapsed on the floor, barely able to draw sufficient breath. He shook uncontrollably; it was always thus when he had to force his demons into submission after such a brief outing. But he was in control, at last. Praying Tifa would remain where she was, Vincent slowly staggered to hands and knees, his back a bloody ruin, and concentrated on not passing out by regulating his breathing. Hoping his flesh would hurry and heal, he finally managed to sit back on his knees, leaning his head back, eyes closed.



“…I’m sorry,” was all he could say before lowering his head again, unable to even look at her. This was why he’d disdained any form of human interaction, yes, now he remembered.





Tifa:



Eyes widened and passion left quickly as Tifa tumbled on the mattress, tangled in a heap with comforter and sheets as she watched in horror his bloody transformation. Teeth bared in a grimace, she heard each tear in his flesh and watched his body contort and wings burst from his back, trailing blood. The creature, Chaos, turned on her, glared at her, and she could only stare back, wide-eyed.



He wouldn't, she told herself. Vincent would never...



She whispered his name, then bit her bottom lip as he forced himself to change back. What caused him to lose so much control? She'd never seen him like that. Then again, before tonight, he'd been nothing but the definition of self control in her eyes.



Through mist she watched him lower his head in something deeper than shame and abject misery, his apology telling her part of why he kept everyone so distant. For a long moment she watched him there, felt the hot streaks of tears on her face. Had she done this? No... it was just a reaction. Why he lost control, she couldn't know, but knew that it had come about because of her.



Fine brows pulled low over glistening eyes as Tifa untangled herself from the covers and slid off the bed, taking one tattered sheet with her. Regardless of protest, she knelt beside him and draped the dark silk over his bloodied back, pulling the mass of ebon hair out before it could be matted with any more of the thick, red substance. Fear still pulled at her, but Tifa had seen, felt the threat of death many times before, and her heart still trusted that her friend, turned lover, would not cause her real harm. She cupped his cheeks gently and made him look at her, fingertips caressing.



"Vincent?" she whispered. "Are you alright now?"



It wasn't enough that he'd been betrayed, killed, brought back for more torture, maimed. They'd done this to him too, and Tifa hated Hojo more than she could hate anyone else. And whether Vincent had loved her or not... she found herself, for just a moment, hating Lucrecia, too. He doesn't deserve this. She felt so helpless to do anything, though.





Vincent:




Vincent flinched away from the touch of the sheet, but realized the gesture for what it was. His back, though healed, was still tender and sore. He didn’t move as Tifa knelt beside him and tenderly cupped his face, merely let her turn his head to face her. He nodded once to her hesitant question and softly sighed. Gaia, his bones ached. Always did, after such a performance.



Clearing his throat, he rasped, “I’m all right, Tifa.” He gave a wan half-smile and gently brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek. Color flamed his cheeks in remembered shame.



“…I’m sorry if I frightened you.” He sighed raggedly. “They’re hard to control sometimes.” The old familiar uncertainty flamed again and he just sat quietly, staring at his knees, unsure of how she would now view him.





Tifa:



One hand ruffled his hair, then Tifa used the sheet to gently wipe the blood from his back, then his hands from the emergence and retraction of the talons that had accidentally started all this, in a way. Letting the sheet crumple to the floor, she carefully placed an arm around him.



"It's ok," she reassured as she used her free hand to gently squeeze his left, "Come back to bed."



With a soft sigh she coaxed him to stand, then led him the short distance to the abused bed, where she guided him to lie down. She rested against his side, one hand continuing to brush through long, unruly black bangs. She felt so sad for him, just like she had earlier, before their first kiss. It seemed more than just hours ago. Dawn had to be breaking by now, but tired as she was, Tifa didn't care. She concentrated instead on silently soothing the hurt she felt responsible for.



She realized now, more than before, how much of a miracle it was that he'd let her see so much. The trouble now was how to make him see that it wasn't a mistake.





Vincent:



Vincent lay beside her stiffly, unable to return to the previous comfortableness with her. He knew he was slowly withdrawing into his protective shell again and hated himself for it, but was unable to stop. He needed to be in there. It was the only place he felt safe enough to deal with his conflicting emotions.



Carefully leaning his head against her shoulder, he refrained from putting arms around her and just rested his forehead against her collarbone, wondering why he felt this way. Numb, hollow, when the churning inside his mind was anything but. Cold…



Tifa had forgiven him, but could he forgive himself? She didn’t know the extent of damage of which he was capable should he lose that iron restraint. But he really needed to reassure her now. After all, he’d wanted to provide a safe haven for her tonight, and apparently miserably failed. Vincent lifted his head, looking up at Tifa.



Greatly daring, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips, whispering, “Don’t worry for me, Tifa. I’m all right. Just rest.” Now he did allow his arms to curl around her and pull her into the curve of his body, lips murmuring at her temple, “Sleep. Morning will come soon enough.”





Tifa:



The kiss she returned, but she knew, oh, she knew what he was doing. It wasn't hard to feel the tension in him again, the reservations returning. She hated that, felt robbed by it. Even so, she understood. She curled against him, laying one leg over his hips as she stared into his eyes, her sadness showing in her own.



"It's already here," she whispered, feeling the moisture on her lashes again. She kept his gaze by force of her own will as her voice lowered further, "...but I don't want it to be."





Vincent:



“Can’t stop it,” he murmured into her hair. Dark lashes closed over his eyes, shielding them. “And maybe it’s better this way,” he whispered against her temple.



Retrieving the rent sheet, he draped it over both of them and settled against the pillows, keeping her close. “Get some rest,” he reiterated. “It’s been quite a long night.”



Falling silent, he stilled, trying to feign sleep in order to lull her to the same, but he lay awake, wondering what the later hours would bring. This event had been…strange he felt was too mild a word, but nothing else seemed to suffice. How did one go on after such? His own words came back to him. You just do. Yes. Just continue on with life. This is just a brief moment in time. Although one he would cherish for his long eternity.





Tifa:



She wanted to scream at him, ask him what his definition of 'better' was, but she lay silent, breathing against his neck and keeping her eyes tightly shut. Against the morning, against his words, against what was coming, against the wall he was rebuilding... but mostly against the tears. When she thought he was asleep, she let a few fall, lifted her head and kissed his lips for what, she now dreaded, was the last time.



"Thank you, Vincent..." It was the barest of whispers. "For being the first to love me like this." Maybe the only, but who knew? Gaia knew, she couldn't trust herself - physically or otherwise - to just anyone, and she had the sinking feeling that if she ever did... it just wouldn't be the same.



Exhausted after what had to have been the longest, most volatile night of her life, eyes finally drifted closed while staring at his face, thoughts fading to the strange world of dreams, all heavy with whispers of what had been.



To be continued…