𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐞.

// also unrelated but I've been toying with the idea of making a Nero from Devil May Cry, specifically his rendition in 4, and maybe eventually growing him towards 5

// lots of replies to write on all my accounts, may take a break tonight and keep it light while I gather some inspiration to give y'all some quality 👉👉

Looking at it.

Looking at her.

She seemed so genuine.

Cloud rubbed the back of his head. That smelled, and looked... eviscerous. Yeah. I just made up a word for that. Call me Shakespeare.

"Tifa... if you wanted to kill me, you could've just stabbed me in my sleep."

Standing next to her without a word, pressing his shoulder against her in case she falls.

// I was spoiled with replies last night. thank you guys 🥺 I'll reply when I'm able

🗡️She/Her, from Icicle
🗡️5'8"
🗡️"Art-dealer"
🗡️Pansexual
⏞
21+ mun
18+ only
#AphroditeWT
#FFVIIRP
#RP
⏟

Slight smirk. He closed his eyes.

"You got me. Creamer?"

"... Calls herself Lightning."

"She has a sister?"

Holding out his hand.

"Pay up."

// hhhrhrrr Ren, my heart

Handing over an empty pot.

"Coffee's extra."

Offering a pot of coffee. Going once. Going twice.

// if you use remake icons, we can just play pretend 🤣 I won't tell anyone!

Well, at least she didn't have to steal it from his pocket this time.

How many of those things does she have, anyways?

Internalization is great, don't you think?

"You ever worried someone might hack into it and use it against you?"

Don't mind him, he's also throwing on a pair of sweat pants over his own to join in solidarity.

Then giving her a fist bump. Heh indeed.

Dropping a piece of Fire Materia for her. Next to a hoodie. And pants. Why doesn't she ever wear pants?

Stock replenishment. A bell rang in his head. Cloud's eyes lit up, though he didn't say anything outright. He didn't even flinch.

"I make deliveries now," he said, holding out a hand.

"If you need a courier for supplies, you can call me."

Obtuse, and straight to the point. Not a lot of subtlety.

"... Yeah. You really need all that tech?"

Crossing his arms.

"Seems painful."

"..."

Blink. Crossing his arms. Staring at him like he has three heads. He totally just said that, didn't he?

"You weren't built with a filter, were you?"

Not like he could say much.

"... I'm doing better."

He doesn't elaborate, and it's probably not true.

"It's... nothing. You should go back to sleep, Tifa," he uttered.

A drop of blood fell from a hidden gash on his arm. In fact, upon further inspection, it had been on the doorknob too.

He had woken her. He knew it the moment the blade clattered. Cloud closed his eyes, keeping his gaze turned from her. He didn't want to.

So, this was what he'd amount to. Wanting to do one thing, and failing instead. How could he ever keep his promise to her if he couldn't even sneak into a house?

I let you die.

I couldn't protect you. Couldn't say I'm sorry. Couldn't stop Sephiroth. Couldn't tell you how I felt. Couldn't, couldn't, couldn't.

Just like you couldn't, Aerith. Just like you couldn't live.

A whispered tear freed itself from his eyelid, touching her fingers.

It rushed through his steady beating heart, to the tingling sensation beneath her fingers, to the breath they shared.

It followed him to his eyes, and though his mouth opened to speak, it was his irises- his gaze that screamed the loudest.

"... But I-"

Let you die. Lived on. Failed.
Let you die-

He remembered his words. They weren't resolute, or strong like the hero he had pretended to be. They were somber, pained- haunted.

She would never laugh or cry again.

But that wasn't true.

She was here.

If he felt it was real, then it was real.

Still, guilt coursed through his veins.

He knew one thing. Her touch, her gaze, her voice, that felt strong enough that he could call it real.

Was that the truth of it, then?

If he had felt it, then it was real?

Was that what she had been trying to tell him all this time?

"I-"

His voice faltered. Questions flowed through his brain.

"How...?"

The only one he could feasibly choke out.

His head was a culmination of memories, past and future, alternate worlds, alternate paths.

Who was to say what was real?