songerein | open 🌠 you see the shadows

Entry tags:

open 🌠 you see the shadows

Who: Tifa Lockhart & you!
Which: Open log + interactive dream
Where: Around Reverein, Mount Nibel
What: Mount Nibel Incident dream, and a couple of dream board postings.
Warnings: N/A for now

✨ i. "the day mom died..." — interactive dream

[There's a winding, rocky path overlooking the town of Nibelheim below, but where it should be clear, the mountain the path leads up is shrouded in a fog that only grows thicker with each passing moment, with what the eyes can see morphing and twisting in and out of view, almost as if the entire landscape isn't sure what it should be. There's an unshakable sound of static in the air, and a rumbling underfoot that isn't too threatening, but it's noticeable enough that it makes itself known.

On one ledge of the path up the mountain are four children. Three boys, whose faces fade in and out of clarity, and a girl with long, dark-brown hair, all looking up at the mountain as they talk, but their words are cut out by the static.]

"Mt. Nibel is scary. Many people have—there."

"—one crosses that—alive."

[The girl turns to face them all, revealing a much younger Tifa, not a day older than nine-years.]

"How about—died? Did—pass through—?" [Tifa wanders past the boys watching her, up the path.] "I'm—"

[Two boys follow while one runs the other way, threatening to bump into any dreamwalkers as he rushes back in the direction of the town. If Tifa is followed, they'll reach a bridge that she crosses fearlessly and without a word, but like the rest of the mountain, it fades in and out of view as well. There, the two boys who remain rush off, leaving Tifa to venture up the rest of the mountain alone.

...

But they stop upon seeing someone new. Someone who might be able to help?]

"Please, you have to stop her! It's dangerous up there! We're going to go back down and get Mister Lockhart."

[And off they go together without another word.]

** ( ooc: Because Tifa doesn't remember this event in full, I fully encourage anyone to have your character influence the setting as much or as little as you'd like! )

✨ ii. freeloading reindeer

[Having done some work on the communal gardens already, Tifa's grown handy with a hammer and nails. Not that she wasn't already proficient enough, but there's a difference between fixer-uppers around a bar that she knew like the back of her hand and building wooden flowerbeds and fences, and the latter has allowed her to at least learn some proper techniques in woodworking. Hell, she's even started learning how to sand and polish, so something like this should be a piece of cake.]

There. I think that's the last of it.

[She'd been hauling wood around all morning, the large planks thrown over her shoulder before she sets them down out in the middle of the farm where there's plenty of room to build out. It's nothing but a pile of wood and a bag of tools, and whoever else has come all the way out here with her, and around them, the reindeer will be grazing and curiously watching from afar, still not sure if it's safe to approach.]

So, it was a new stable for them and a fence, right? Gotta say, biggest thing I've ever built was a flowerbed so this'll be new to me.

✨ iii. new year's noctaere

[It is a little terrifying going up against the Noctaere, especially when she knows little of what to expect upon entering the dreamscape, but Tifa was never one to sit back or sit still for very long. Not when there were threats that needed to be taken care of. She might not be the most experienced partner in the dreamscapes, with her skills in dreamotion magic leaving plenty to be desired, but she can pack a punch when needed, and it has come in helpful in a lot of cases.

That isn't to say she's completely useless at magic, but she'd prefer to let her fists and feet do the talking if it came down to it. Which it will.

And just before stumbling into the dreamscape, she looks over to whoever has volunteered for the job with her, and gives a firm nod.]

You ready?

** ( ooc: if you have a preference for the dreamscape, then please let me know in the subject line! Otherwise, I'll randomize which one we end up getting! )

✨ iv. wildcard

[None of these prompts work? You know the wildcard drill! Feel free to leave something else below, or contact me via PM or @ crystariums if you'd like to plot out something! Tifa can be frequently found at the communal gardens, at the edges of the forest training, and just in general wandering around Reverein, so she's easy to bump into. Also okay with any of the dream board postings!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Eustace is also a little surprised by the sudden appearance of the lights, but he doesn't know if it's a natural phenomenon or...something else.

So he looks at her, lost in thought for a moment before he steps closer to be more beside her.]

...Does it matter?

[Does it matter if it's from the world itself or born from their feelings?]

It's still beautiful... So we might as well enjoy it while it's there.

[His words carry a strange weight, as if it could hold so many different meanings. He's not intending them to, but... Perhaps it's subconsciously formed from how he truly feels right now. What they think, what they feel, what they want—they're troubling questions, things they can't really deal with right now.

But maybe they don't have to. Maybe, at least for right now, in this moment, they can just enjoy what's right in front of them. Because when the sun rises and a new day passes... It will fade into something that can only be kept in their memories.]

[She can only laugh at his answer.

He's right. It doesn't matter. Whatever this stemmed from, whether it was natural or not, it's a culmination of something out there. Something magical. Something that might not happen again, so they should enjoy it while they can.

The air around them falls dead silent as they watch, and she can feel his near presence looming over her. Some of the dogs have left while others have found a spot on the floor or at the foot of the bed to sleep, but besides the occasional tapping of their paws, the only thing Tifa can hear is the sound of his breathing. It's a little strange, and a little overwhelming—the silence—but she's afraid to break it.

That if she speaks, this moment will slip through her fingers and either she'll wake up again from yet another dream, or things will go back to how they were before. She'll hold onto this moment for as long as it takes, watching as the lights shimmer and change colours overhead, and reach out to touch one of the thousands of little stars that float nearby.

Tifa isn't sure when they had come, but as one of those stars disappears from the graze of her fingers, she can feel tears streaking her cheeks, turning cold when the winter touches them. She shrinks back, freezing in place, and her eyes widen at the sudden shift, and at the sudden wave of emotions that comes over her again.

Not even about what happened in the dream, but about where she is now. It's no question that she was grateful for him sticking by her side, but how much, she could never be sure of... Until he was standing next to her, watching the snow and the lights at her side. She thinks she knows, but then the world turns her upside-down and that feeling only grows each time. How much more of this can she even take?

How many times can she just swallow whatever this is turning into? How long can she keep ignoring it, and hope that it will go away, when this place seems so adamant about putting them into situations where it will only flourish into something bigger?

Her hands grip at the windowsill as she tries to suppress them again. To strangle those thoughts and stuff them back where they had come from—from somewhere deep down in her heart. She has to turn from the window then, away from the lights, so he doesn't see her like this, and quickly wipes them away.]

[For a little while his gaze remains on the spectacle outside, old memories reflecting on the surface of those rippling colors like waves. His youth, his teens, recent years, and even months. No real order, just a random blur of moments that meant something to him. Quiet moments. Peaceful moments. Moments so fleeting yet poignant like this. Moments he usually shared alone.

But in recent years he was able to stand with others, to be able to share that peace and quiet in close company. And it's thanks to that time, that progression, that he can even feel himself opening as much as he had towards the one with him now. It's as if this open window is a reflection of his own heart, a window where he would have just kept close while watching from within but now pushed open as if to invite him to step out. How many times has that window been open and closed, people intruding in and trying to pull him out. How many times has he sat on its sill, ventured out briefly before returning to close it...only to be forced open again. How many times has he stood there wondering if he should open it himself.

Slowly Eustace extends a hand out over her head to catch one of those snowflakes, the initial cold melting into something warm. So fleeting, yet leaving such a lasting impression. As he glances down at her, he wonders. Wonders if he should just forget about his earlier thoughts and let things go as they want. To move past lingering insecurities and doubts. In that moment he feels something brush against his fingertips—a flower petal? He tries to grasp it but is distracted when Tifa suddenly steps back and turns away.]

...Tifa?

[He catches the movement and concern washes over him as his attention focused on her. Almost reflexively now, a hand gently moves to her shoulder as he steps closer to her.

Had she been reminded of something?]

[She doesn't mean to shrug him off like this, but when his hand rests on her shoulder, she unknowingly dodges it as she falls to sit at the edge of the bed, where one of the dogs lifts his head to check on them. Her gaze remains locked downward, and the way he says her voice... it makes her chest hurt, and her hands ball into fists around the sheets in an effort to not reach out to him again.

What would she want from him if she did anyway?

Shaking her head, she sighs.]

It's nothing. Just... [It's not nothing. It's all too much, and all at once that she doesn't know what to think or what to do with it.] A little overwhelmed with everything that happened is all.

[She always pretends to shrug her feelings off so easily, but in the end, it just makes it hurt more. It makes her want to reach for his hand and hold it, if only to make herself feel less alone in this distant, unfamiliar place... and not just in this world, but within herself, too.

How selfish.]

[There's a small stinging pang when she flinches away from him, his hand frozen in midair before it slowly retracts as he watches her retreat to the bed. This feeling of rejection... He never thought it would hit so hard. Hard enough that for a moment the lights flicker and dim, cold air swirling around him before it dissipates. But he also understands her position, especially when she admits how overwhelming she's feeling. And with the shadows seeming to stretch over her, that sense of loneliness magnifies.

He slowly steps towards her, dropping down to one knee in front of her as he takes that clenched hand into his before looking up.]

I told you before. You don't have to deal with it alone.

[His grip tightens.]

What can I do to help?

[What can he do so she doesn't look like she's suffering anymore? To bring her back to before?]

[Here he goes again... doing that thing that he does. That thing that she loves and hates, where he alone can hold her up when she trips, and how it brings all of those complicated emotions to life again, even after she's tried to drown them time and time again. No matter how many times, he always finds a way, whether he intends to or not.

Her hand will be cold to the touch, and when he takes it in his, her fingers tense before wrapping around in a loose grip of her own. She says nothing for a while and uses what little light is shining through the windows to take him in—the genuine concern on his face, and the very same guard that she sees so often reflected in him coming down... just so.

And it tears at hers as well, gently knocking at the singular spot where it's already started to crumble.

He doesn't need to do all of this for her, nor does she want to put him through all of it on her behalf or burden him with things that aren't his to bear, but here he is.

Tifa doesn't have an answer for his question. If he could turn back time and bring all of those people back, and bring her home back, then maybe she would, but nothing anyone ever does will bring them back. Not even an endless dream she never woke from would do that—it would never be the same. If he could send her home, back to Gaia, so that she could finish her fight and finally move on from all of that fear crippling her, then maybe she would, but she knows that's impossible too

No words come to her. Wordlessly, she falls forward until she's resting against him once more. If he can do one thing for her right now, it's this. It isn't much, and it won't immediately bring her back to before, but that space between them only reminded her of the cold, dark hole growing in her heart, that only deepens each day she spends here in this place.]

[He can see how her expression changes, feels how the air around them twists and distorts in response to her emotions. And then she's falling to him, and he hastily brings his arms around to catch her as he sits back, letting her rest against his chest. He holds her close, head resting atop hers as he lets out a long breath.

How many times will he have to do this? And how many times will he find himself tempted to want for more only to hastily pull back?

But no matter what, he just holds her for as long as she needs him. At least he knows he can provide her with this much.]

[It's getting harder to remember the last time someone else held her like this. It feels so distant now that it's beginning to seem more and more like a dream than the reality, and even though this isn't, it's more real. More tangible than when she tries to recall what it was like.

There's a very distinct softness to it... It's one that she leans into more, her other hand gripping his shoulder when she feels the coil in her stomach start to loosen, rising up into her chest before it comes out as a quiet sob again. She thought she could take it, thought she could stand up against the darkness that hung over her still, even after waking from that nightmare, and she thought she could weather the storm that came after, when she looked up at those lights, and the snow, and stars...

But it all comes crashing down, and she thumps her fist against his chest again.]

Why's it always you...

[The words fall past her lips before she can stop them, but she continues in between sobs. It's all less of a question for him and more for the world that keeps throwing things at them one after another.]

Why won't it stop?

[Why is it always you

The words hang in his head, a weight sinking into his stomach. Given everything he's pieced together so far, the first thing he can think of is the one she's really waiting for, wishing it was someone else in his place. He can't blame her for that, for wanting her connections from home. And if he hadn't realized so many things by now, this shouldn't have mattered—all it should have roused was a sense of pity and sympathy. Instead it just sends those frayed threads spinning and tangling all the more, making him question and doubt what he should be doing. Enough to push away from that line.

But the sound of her sobs pull him back to it. It's just him and her in this space, especially now. And he could ignore her. Could just keep her like this and do nothing more, let her just cry it out and give the minimum comfort like this. In the past he could have done so easily, but now...

Without really thinking, driven purely by the sound of her cries and the flux of his heart, Eustace brings his hand to Tifa's tear stained cheek, thumb first brushing over them before he pulls her face up so that his lips lightly touch the tops of her eyelid and then to the corner, lightly kissing it. His fingertips brush against her skin to thread through her hair as he stares down at her, his eyes carrying a weight of unknown emotions.

And before she can question him, his lips find hers, pulling her into rough kiss as if trying to pull her away from everything, from everything that's plaguing her.]

I can't stop it. [His voice is hoarse whisper as he breathes her in, every chain of resolve he had tried to fasten breaking with every fast beat of his heart.] But I'll take you away from it.

[Even if it's just a temporary escape, sometimes even that much is necessary. To be forced away from the soul sucking pits they find themselves trapped in so they can try to deal with it again later. Or, in this case, possibly create a new one or worsen it. But if they do, he won't let her be in there alone.

And maybe he's out of his mind right now, losing his resolve to stand back. But how can he? How could anyone hold back when someone they care about is hurting so much? And perhaps, in the back of his mind, a voice that he's been trying to ignore whispers—

Why can't it be him?

While he would have some answers—excuses—later, right now he's not thinking about them. The only thing on his mind right now is the young woman in his arms and comfort her in any way he can.]

Edited 2022-01-16 00:30 (UTC)

[His gestures surprise her, the sobs choking her into a stunned silence when his fingers gently caress the tears from her cheeks, and his lips the ones from her eyes. Time freezes around them, everything but them slowing to a crawl as she closes his eyes against his feather-light touch, so she doesn't see it coming when his lips press to hers in a kiss a little less gentle, and a little more urgent.

Her ears ring and her heart thunders in her head so loud that she barely hears his whispers, and when she inhales the air he breathes out, it's so dizzying that she leans in close, almost breaking his voice off to close the distance between them again, her hands wrapping around his neck to keep him in place as they drive their lips together into something deeper.

Tifa can hear those voices in the back of her head and those twinges of guilt that come with them. The voices that scream at her that this is wrong, that she shouldn't be handing him her heart when such a big piece of it still yearns for another, that there is no permanence to her time here... All of those doubts and fears that she harboured resurface, trying to fight back against that other side of her.

The side that he's so easily undoing under him. The side that takes him at his word. If he wants to help her bear that burden then that part of her wants to give it—wants to thrust some of that weight onto him so that they mare share it together, even if it is just for one night. To take him at his word that he can and will steal her away from all the troubling things that have taken root in her.

As if in a single breath, he does. There's that crushing wave that sweeps over her—of relief, and the fear that comes from actually... wanting more, and what that could mean. But does it matter? They've already taken that step into the unknown, and even if they wanted to go back, could they? Does she want to? Does he?

The thoughts drop into the back of her mind when she slips closer to the edge of the bed and closer to him, and Tifa allows herself to fall into whatever this is. As she slides her arms further around him to feel the press of his warmth against her, she parts her lips and draws back so that she can look at him, her own voice thick and her eyes saying everything that she intends to say but can't.]

Okay... [A beat.] Okay.

[For one night... It's fine if it's just for now, right?]

[Bells ring in his ears but are drowned by the rush of hot blood as she closes the distance on her own, her arms wrapping around him as his own encircle her as he leans up closer to her, almost pushing her back. The taste of her lips are just as tempting and sweet as before, and even though he knows he shouldn't he wants more of it. Wants to take more of it for himself.

And when she she gives her consent one arm slips beneath her legs as the other remains at her back, his only answer given through another heated kiss as he lifts her, standing up before dipping her back down onto the bed so that he's now looming over her. In that one breathless moment he stares down at her, pale blue eyes darkened with an unfamiliar heat. The way she looks beneath him, her hair dark as the night sky and the last remnants of the falling snow speckling it like stars, it's beautiful as it is tempting. He reaches up to pull out the flower that had managed to stay tucked by her ear, glancing at it before setting it to the side so that it won't be crushed.

Only after that can Eustace no longer resist and once more he kisses her, hand cupping her cheek as this time it's a little slower and gentler, as if wanting to savor it. A part of him knows they don't need to go far, yet another wants to. The more he touches and tastes, the more he finds himself craving, as if something new has awakened within him. But he also knows that he can only give and take as much as she's willing. Not to mention this is an unusual situation...

But those are only thoughts in the back of his mind as his attention and focus turns to their physical presence, of the heat and ripples of pleasure shared between them.

And for better or worse, the corgis that had remained with them seem to have gotten the hint and are shuffling their way out and downstairs. Whatever ends up happening, they'd rather be able to sleep than be around.]

[He moves her with such ease, and Tifa can feel the strength in his grip as he shifts them further up until she's on her back. Her chest rises and falls as she tries to steal back the breaths he had taken from her, as she stares up at him with reddened lips and eyes heavy with both wanting and trepidation. She can still admire how he looks above her, his hair cascading over his face and onto hers, and how his blue eyes seem to darken under the weight of a hundred reflected emotions, unknown and terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.

She's scared, and he'll be able to see it, but when he lowers his lips back to hers again, all that fear and doubt is swept back by the electricity his touches send through her, as if he were imbuing her with his magic. It's a feeling so faraway, but it brings her back to the moment they had shared in the cave, where the smallest buds of it had started—tiny traces of this intense heat that wound itself up inside her that are now bursting through her now threadbare conviction.

She held on for as long as she could, and maybe she could have a little longer, but the way her hands skim over the planes of his back, and how his lips feel on hers... Even the sturdiest, most determined souls can come undone by it. These more instinctual urges only make her want to take more and wish that he would do the same.

She does, for as long as their bodies will allow. It's gentle, tender, slow, but she can feel the gravity of those thousand unknown emotions weighing down on them both—that need for comfort and the search for something to fill those lonely voids, but there was something else there, too. Through all of those hardships and tense moments, between those lingering stares and stretches of silence, there had been something else that had built up—it was almost carnal in nature, heated but mesmerizing... Something that needed to be resolved in a way only being this close to one another could.

And still, Tifa remains so very careful about it. It's still delicate, and whatever there is that had grown between them could still easily be broken. Even if this is just a spur of the moment, one-time thing in a pursuit of comfort, she doesn't want to break that frayed thread that still somehow held them together.

How long had passed, she has no idea, but by the end of it all, her head is filled only with him. His voice, how his name had rolled off his tongue and his from hers, the trails of heat his fingertips had left, and the sound of his breathing as she lays her head down next to his at long last, her body sheened in sweat, and her legs untangling from his to wrap up in the messy sheets.

How much longer is it that she lays in silence to catch her breath, and it's then that she catches herself admiring him again. She looks away, her lips parting to speak, but...

What in the world is she even supposed to say now?]

[Bit by bit, moment by moment, all his original plans and thoughts are cast out that window as he loses himself to all those repressed wants and needs, that unfamiliar longing to be with someone and to fill the void taking over. He's careful at first, noticing her own fears and that initial hesitation that forms when reality starts to sink in.

But the longer they continue, the easier it is to forget all of it and just be lost in that moment. And even he, someone who can usually keep his reason, falters and finds greed the more he touches and tastes, his mouth leaving her lips to explore and take every inch of her soft, sweet skin. How he can feel the light trembles and shivers as he moves; her soft, alluring voice that hits deep into carnal instincts; the heat formed between them almost burning; and her pulse—the quick, steady beats that reaffirm that yes she's alive. It sends his mind racing to those heart stopping moments from the lake to living it through her nightmare just moments ago. He would of course fear losing anyone close to him, but it's Tifa that shook him the most. So it's this sound—the sound of her heart—that grips his own, dictates his actions, going beyond what he ever imagined or intended.

And the more she allows him in, the further he goes, lost in that need and desperation. It's such a raw, wild feeling, one he's never experienced before—one he will later regret once it's over.

With ragged breaths he stares back at her, his eyes unconsciously flicking down to see the numerous marks he's left on her, including on the scar on her chest. How at the time he had wanted to imprinted himself, that moment, this night over the pain it haunted her. But now with their heads cooling along with the air, he wonders if he went too far.

No, they did go too far. It's one thing to give physical comfort, but this... Knowing he's the older one and supposed to be more responsible and mature and the less emotionally compromised one of the two, he should have stopped it several times. Instead, he almost feels as if he had taken advantage of her, especially when he's the one who instigated it, and it sends an ill feeling to his stomach.

Yet at the same time, he can't say a part of him doesn't regret it. Not when he sees her looking at him and that little familiar flutter of amusement forms briefly. But she's likely thinking and feeling the same. Even if she had consented and their thoughts and feelings likely mutual... He's fairly certain they skipped a giant step. That step being, what in the world do they even want from each other? How far should they really be going? What should they do from here? Questions they need to answer, and answer soon, but... Have they been through enough for now? Should it wait? For how long?

And does he want to risk breaking something that seems so tenuous and fragile right now?

After the silence stretches a little longer, he slowly brings his arm around her and moves closer to her.]

I guess I did a good job if I made you speechless.

[Said in a very dry, languid, and somewhat teasing tone. They have serious matters to discuss, one that could either result in them having more moments like this or this being their last. But as his own thoughts rest heavy on his mind, he'll try to alleviate hers a little.]

Edited 2022-01-16 23:37 (UTC)

[Well, when he calls her out so directly like that, it's no wonder she winds up choking even further on her own voice. Whatever he did, it had left Tifa feeling... different in its aftermath, and the little strength she still has left is going into trying to process it. The why's and how's, and more importantly, the what now's... They've given themselves plenty to think about, but she's still so lost in the moment—in the spell she's accidentally entangled herself in, and with the way he scoops her towards him, tucking her against his side, it makes it harder to pull herself out of it.

The question remains of whether she wants to, because the moment she does, Tifa knows that they'll have to talk about this. She's afraid of what she'll feel when she comes down from that high, and what he might say, or where it might lead after. If this is what makes or breaks their friendship, then she'll have plenty to regret, but... she doesn't find herself feeling those annoying pangs of it yet. Guilt over taking advantage of the situation to do something uncharacteristically selfish, to use him to run away from all of the heartache, even if it was for just a little while?

Those are things she'd rather not think about as she lays here, still enveloped in his warmth. The silence persists, weighing heavier on them with each second she gives herself to piece together something... Even if she might come to lament over this later, right now, her body refuses to let it go.

Once she's caught her breath, she lets out a small exhale over his skin, and this is the first time she's noticed the twinkling lights over their heads—the same ones as the little stars that lit up the air around the tree when they had watched the snow fall. Through it all, she can at least smile up at that, understanding where they'd come from now, and her voice is quiet, but pointed when she finally sighs.]

... You did something.

[Still a little speechless. That, and she still doesn't know the right thing to say given the situation.

Another pause before Tifa is lifting her head just far enough to look up at him.]

How are you feeling?

[It seemed the most appropriate thing to ask after all...that.]

[Even if the silence persists, the fact that she hasn't pulled away from him is enough. Although a part wonders if it would have been better as it only gives certain impressions of what she could possibly want.]

Fine.

[Which is true. A little tired, sure, but otherwise he does feel fairly invigorated after it all. It's only hampered by the black cloud of questions that hang over them....

....

A black cloud that actually forms a over them, casting a shadow and obscuring the twinkling lights. Glancing up at it, he sighs.

They can't delay it any longer.]

...But I am wondering this is something you actually wanted or if I pushed you into it.

[She can see, through the corners of her eyes, the way the lights dim when he asks that, going dark until they've been snuffed out completely, and the air leaves Tifa's lungs as if the cloud had sucked the life out of her instead.

She should have expected it—that they would talk about it, and she wasn't going to sleep tonight without it, but so soon? She's hardly had time to process what's right in front of her, let alone what awaits them tomorrow, and all the days after that.

However, there is one thing she is sure of, that she doesn't need time for.]

You didn't push me into anything.

[She had been a willing participant as much as he had, and if anyone had pushed them further over the edge, it might as well have been Tifa. Whether she had been thinking straight when she did is another question... for later.

As for what it was she wanted...

That's a question that's harder to answer, and it's one she hopes her actions had spoken for her. Whatever that meant, and whatever feelings lay beneath those urges, there was no denying the fact that they've uncovered something much deeper. Tifa doesn't know if she can say the same for him, but... for her, at least, it had meant something.]

Did you think you did?

Edited 2022-01-17 01:43 (UTC)

[He's silent, hesitant, before he releases a soft exhale.]

In some ways. ...I can't say I acted with wholly pure intentions and you were more vulnerable and emotionally compromised. I should have had better control of myself.

[Even though he did genuinely want to comfort her, there were so many different ways he could have done so. Ways that would have been more "chaste" and not devolve in them completely losing themselves. At the same time it hadn't been wholly physical—there was a fair bit of emotion that transferred between them, unspoken messages that hint at their true wants that they still can't bring themselves so say.]

[Something flips in Tifa's stomach then. It's a strange mix of apprehension and anticipation, and at last, there's that hit of guilt that she had been waiting for. She wondered when it would come, and didn't think it would be so soon, but hearing him talk like that... Hearing him wish he had held it back, or kept himself in check... She wasn't much better about it, vulnerable or not, and it's just as much her fault as it is his. Her fault that he's now feeling what she can only interpret as regret...

Their fault for what, though? At the time, he seemed so sure that he wanted it, and she was certain she did too, so why is she suddenly thinking like this?

Of all the things to come out of that, it shouldn't be this.]

You didn't do anything wrong.

[Neither of them did... or so she'll try telling herself.]

I...

[Wanted it, too. That small part of her that held her gaze on him whenever he wandered too close, or that had her linger in his presence a little too long... That part had seen and felt something with him. It was at the tree, when he couldn't place her, and when he started to disappear right before her eyes... It was then that she realized that he had become someone special...

But she can't say that, can she? Because did this even mean anything? Through all the emotions that they exchanged tonight, can they say that it was anything more than just two people seeking comfort in each other?

It's probably better this way.

She breaks off the thought with a shake of her head, and rolls away from him, her head falling back against the pillow instead of his shoulder. Tifa feels as if she's imposing on him again, pressing further than she needs to.]

Me too. Both of us... but... [He's so much better with words than she is right now.] I know I was vulnerable, and there were a lot of emotions, but I think we both knew what we were getting into.

[Her rolling away from him elicits the same sharp chill he felt when she flinched away from his hand. It's that feeling of rejection, that feeling that the distance between them is growing again despite having become so intimately close. Of course, didn't he essentially drive her away with his words? So he can only stare at her back, hoping that this place won't reveal his emotions again.

She thinks he's so great with words, but really he doesn't know how much he should say. How much he should tell her. If he should ever tell her. In the end he just resigns to himself and stays where he is.]

But I don't think we were ready for it.

["It." "This." Whatever the hell "this" is now.]

[It's probably better that those twinkling lights had gone out, because he can't see the way her lips turn down into a frown, or how her brows furrow together. Or how the complicated wave of shame and remorse hits so suddenly and so hard that she almost turns away then. She doesn't, and holds fast against it, trying to maintain a neutral expression as she stares up at the dark ceiling.]

I guess not, but we did...

[Her voice is even and quiet.

Whatever "this" is, she can't say it was ever going to be something they would have been ready for, or if they would have even pursued under any other circumstance or later down the line, so how could either of them have ever prepared themselves for something they didn't know was coming?

She asks this as if they had no control over themselves. They knew exactly what they were doing and did it anyway.

Which begs the question...]

Eustace. Do you...

[No. That's not right.

Now she shifts to turn to her other side, her back facing him.]

Did that mean anything to you?

[Her question seizes him, his throat constricting as he feels the heavy implications of her question.

Did it mean anything to him?

And if it did, what?

Does he know the answer? No—does he want to admit it?

There's a long stretch of silence before he slowly starts speaking, each word carefully measured, and quiet.]

...For a while now... I've been wrestling with how I've been thinking...and feeling towards you. Especially after what happened at the lake, the thought of losing you...

[The more he speaks, the more he wavers. Things he had intended to keep closed are trying to pry themselves out. He could still keep the lid on it, but... Seeing her back, feeling that distance.

He hates it.

He doesn't know what he wants from her, from them, but he knows this much. He doesn't want that gap to widen.]

Even now I'm still trying to wrestle with it, so I can't give you a clear answer. But I can tell you this.

[Eustace finally shifts closer to her, his hand reaching out take her shoulder and pull her back to him so that she can face him. As she turns, that dark cloud will start to clear, a few of those twinkling lights returning. It's not completely gone, the uncertainty a looming shadow, but she can at least now see the sincerity in his eyes.]

It wasn't empty. Being with you... [He falters for a moment, as if trying to find the words.] It's genuine. Even if I sometimes think it would be better if I keep my distance, I can't.

[...Annnnnd now he feels a little embarrassed. Isn't this almost similar to a confession??? He ends up withdrawing a bit and muttering under his breath.]

What am I saying...

["It wasn't empty."

That was all she needed to know—that this night wasn't wasted on something hollow and superficial. That their actions did have some meaning, even if neither of them can figure that out.

And when he turns her over to face him again, he'll be able to see her eyes glisten again with tears underneath those sparkling lights. It's complicated, and she hopes he doesn't ask what they mean. Having to explain to him the amount of relief and shame she feels right now wouldn't come easily, and she has faith that she would only make it messier in trying, but as much as she wants to turn away from him and refuse Eustace the opportunity to ask, her eyes lock onto his upon seeing the weight of his words within them.

Which is why it's almost a relief when he shrinks back.]

Me too...

[It didn't mean nothing to her, either. She has her doubts, and reasons for thinking that this could never work, but what happened tonight—it wasn't all for nothing. She felt the gravity of it, those emotions she poured into him with every touch, and every kiss, and it was more profound than she imagined it would be when she made that move towards him.

She loses her steadiness, and the next breath she lets out is shaky as she pulls the sheets up closer to her face.]

Why's it always you... [She repeats the words again, laughing quietly to herself at how much truth there is to them, especially now.] You're always there when I'm in trouble. Always there to help fix my problems, or get me out of a pinch. It was so much easier when it was just me...

[Me too

He doesn't realize how tense he had been until he first hears those two little words, and then it melts completely when she hides herself and laughs. His muscles relax so much he actually slumps forward, head hanging as his long bangs hide the slight smile that had unknowingly formed.]

I could say the same to you... As troublesome as you've been, I've caused you just as much grief.

[From the very first day they met, to that Halloween dreamscape, when he lost his memories, the box during Christmas— She's saved him as many times.

He slowly reaches out to touch a strand of her hair and pull it back, as if trying to reveal a little more of her face despite the sheet pulled over it. And then a question forms on his tongue, one he hesitates to ask. But it's been a question that's plagued his mind. That's made him think he needs to hold back.]

...Would you rather if I wasn't around? Or...it be someone else?

No.

[Her answer comes in a single breath, before he can finish asking his question.

The hair he pulls back only falls back over her eyes again, covering them as they blink back to the past, and more frustrations resurface. Different ones than what she felt coming out of the dream, but ones that she carried with her everywhere she went—even beyond the boundaries of a universe into another.

Memories of a blond-haired boy with bright blue-green eyes, who she missed more than she could put into words. It had been so long since she's seen him, and even when she had the chance to back in Camelot, she ran away from the idea of it for fear of what she might find—that he wouldn't be the Cloud that she remembered. Her Cloud.

In the process of all that running, she crashed into someone else.]

You know... [she begins, a hand reaching out to touch the side of his face, a smile warming her expression. It's a brief gesture, and it falls back to curl around the sheets again.] Back in that other world, we spent a lot of time together. We got into some weird situations, but never anything as bad, but you always had my back, just like you do here.

[When no one else did.]

[He wishes that gesture hadn't been so brief, but her answer...

...

Truthfully he's not sure how to make of it, just like he was never sure what to make of her having memories of him in another world. Could he even think of himself as the same? So there's a slight disgruntled look as he considers the laughable idea of him getting annoyed of himself.]

So you're pulling me into trouble no matter what world we're in. Should have known.

[But then he wonders. Wonder if in that world they would have been on the same track or if things could have panned out differently. Of course neither of them knows and...really he doesn't care. He's here, not there, and the same is true for her.]

Just don't compare myself to the other one.

[...

Primals he really is getting jealous of himself what is wrong with him—]

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