Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Guns and Roses ❯ Little Red Sports Cars ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: FF VII and all the characters herein belong to Square Enix, except Liana (I made her ^_^).

 

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Tifa walked down the sidewalk, staring at the pavement. She looked up as Dixie's came into view, and she sighed. And so begins day one without Cloud, she thought. She knew she shouldn't be thinking of him, but agreeing to go to lunch with Vincent made her feel treacherous in a way. How would Cloud feel if he found out that not even an hour after they broke up she had gotten someone else's number?

 

Why does it matter? a little voice in her head quipped. It wasn't as if he loved you. You always knew he wanted Aerith instead of you.

 

She shook her head. I still feel bad.

 

Stop worrying, it assured her. You have every right to move on and to do whatever you have to so you can get over him.

 

Tifa nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as a brisk fall breeze tossed her dark brown hair across her face. She looked up as she came to an intersection, stopping to press the button and waiting for the `walk' sign to change. She really did not want to get hit again. She jumped when a horn sounded from the car that pulled up beside her.

 

She glanced to her left, gasping as she saw Vincent's crimson Zephyr. She watched as he rolled down the passenger window, a smug little grin on his face.

 

“Hey there good lookin',” he teased, still smiling. “Need a lift?”

 

She smiled a little walking over to the car. She opened the door and climbed inside. “Thanks,” she said softly.

 

He glanced over at her as the light changed. “No problem,” he said, pulling into the parking lot on the corner. “How're you feelin' today?”

 

She shrugged, rubbing her arms. “Good,” she said quietly. She shot him a look. “A little sore, but otherwise okay.” She caught the slightly guilty look that flitted through his crimson eyes.

 

He was silent as he parked and slid out of the car. Tifa wondered what he was thinking as her hazel eyes followed his movement. She slowly opened her door, watching as he walked around the car and stopped in front of her, holding out his hand to her.

 

He offered her a playful smile. “Milady?” he said.

 

She giggled, taking his hand. She let him help her out, feeling more like a movie star than a heart-broken girl. “You sure know how to treat a girl,” she said quietly, drawing his gaze as they walked toward the front doors.

 

He smiled at the compliment. “I've had a quite a bit of practice,” he said, thinking of the irony in that statement. About a hundred years, in fact.

 

Tifa watched him open the door for her. If he's had so much practice, why can't he keep a girl? “It's weird that you don't have a girlfriend,” she said, their eyes meeting as she slid past him into the diner.

 

He shrugged. “You think so?” he asked, letting her lead them to a table near a window. He watched her sit facing the door, and slid into the booth across from her. He figured he knew what she was thinking.

 

She nodded. “Yeah,” she said, picking up a menu, sounding as if that were obvious. She glanced at him over the top of the laminated paper. “Mind if I ask why?” I hope you're not some kind of creep.

 

He glanced down at the table, then reached for the salt. Tifa watched in confusion as he shook a little onto the table, before replacing the salt shaker. He pushed it around with his finger for a second, seemingly thinking about her question. “It's hard to explain,” he whispered. It really was.

 

So, he has a few little quirks, she thought. She glanced back at her menu. He's still drop dead gorgeous. Especially in that dark red shirt. She glanced back at him. The color suited his eyes and jet black hair, and the fact that he had left the first three buttons undone, exposing a glimpse of his well-toned chest didn't hurt either. She felt a blush heat her cheeks when he met her stare, almost as if he was aware of her thoughts.

 

She looked away quickly, feeling flustered. “I'm sorry,” she said, “maybe I shouldn't have asked that.”

 

He watched her for a moment, then sighed. “No,” he said quietly, his voice thoughtful. “It's alright.” He wiped the salt from the table. “I'm just trying to think of a way to put it so that you can understand.”

 

“Oh,” she said, setting down her menu. She glanced up as a waitress walked over, pad and pen in hand. She noticed the young waitress' gaze as she stared briefly at Vincent, before smiling brightly.

 

“What can I get for you two?” she asked politely. Her blue eyes flicked back and forth between Tifa and Vincent.

 

Vincent looked at Tifa. “You know what you want?” he asked.

 

She nodded. She looked back at the waitress. “I'll have a Dr Pepper float, cheeseburger and fries,” she said, handing the menu to the waitress.

 

The waitress nodded, scribbling furiously on her pad. Her eyes flickered to Vincent, and once more Tifa noticed how she seemed to stare at him. “And for you?” she asked.

 

Vincent frowned briefly, thinking quickly. “The same,” he said finally. He met Tifa's surprised gaze. “I trust Tifa's judgment as to what is good here.” He gave her his menu, never taking his eyes off Tifa.

 

Tifa felt the blush return to her cheeks as she looked back at the waitress. She noticed that her blue eyes became a little shaded, and her manner a little stiff.

 

“Alright,” she said, marking on her pad. She glanced between them, flashing her smile. “I'm Jesse by the way, and I'll have that and your drinks right out.” As she finished, her gaze landed on Vincent. “You let me know if you need anything.”

 

Tifa felt a sudden desire for her to go away as Vincent smiled at her and thanked her. She stared at the table, picking at her nails, before looking after Jesse as she walked away. She once again felt a defeated feeling settle over her shoulders. She supposed Vincent must have noticed, because he was watching her when she looked up at him.

 

“What's wrong?” he asked, reading her face.

 

She gave a little smile, unable to hide the hint of sadness. “Nothing,” she whispered, once more picking at her nails.

 

He leaned back in the booth, his eyes worried. “It can't be nothing,” he said.

 

Tifa sighed and looked up at him, sitting back as well. She let her gaze travel over his shoulder, thinking about what she would say. `I was watching that waitress and she was looking at you and it was really pissing me off, especially when you smiled at her because it made me feel as if I couldn't hold onto a man for more than a day or two,' was what she wanted to say, but she laughed softly at the silliness of it all.

 

“It really was nothing,” she said quietly, the smile and warmth still on her face. “I was just thinking.”

 

“Oh,” he said, taking the hint. He looked away as silence fell over them. He felt Tifa's eyes turn back to him.

 

“So, you never told me why you don't have a girlfriend,” she said, trying to strike up a conversation once more. He voice became teasing. “Have you ever had one?”

 

He smiled a little and looked back at her. “Once,” he said, feeling a little offended. He could have any girl he wanted; he just chose not to. He met her hazel eyes. “A long time ago.”

 

Tifa nodded, glad there was something to talk about. “What happened to her?” she asked, unaware of the way Vincent was watching her.

 

“She died,” he said, still seeing Lucrecia behind Tifa's eyes. He saw the withdrawal come into her hazel depths. “She was killed. Someone shot her.”

 

Tifa broke eye contact, having seen the bitterness and remorse in his crimson irises. It was faint, but it was there nonetheless. “Oh,” she said softly. “I'm sorry.”

 

He shrugged, seemingly coming out of whatever trance he was in. “Like I said,” he said quietly, “it was a long time ago.”

 

Tifa watched as he broke away from her gaze again. She searched his face thoughtfully. “You loved her, didn't you?” she asked.

 

He chuckled softly, not looking up. “Is it that obvious?” he asked, unwrapping the napkin from around the silverware on the table.

 

Tifa smiled, finally feeling the mood shift. “Let's just say I'm good at reading people,” she said unthinkingly.

 

He glanced up at her, then back at the napkin. “Like that waitress,” he said, smirking a little.

 

Tifa straightened, staring at him. She watched as he looked up at her, the smirk still on his face. “How…?”

 

He shrugged. “Let's just say I'm good at reading people,” he said easily, repeating her words back to her, his smirk growing.

 

Tifa cocked her head, her gaze narrowing. “No wonder you don't have a girlfriend,” she said shortly, her tone mock irritated.

 

He watched her patiently. “Do enlighten me,” he said, following her lead.

 

“You're too cocky for your own good,” she said, nodding as if to reassure herself.

 

He laughed softly, quirking an eyebrow. “Oh, really?” he asked.

 

She nodded, glancing at the waitress as she came back, carrying their floats on a tray. “Really,” she said as Jesse stopped at their table.

 

“Here you go,” Jesse said brightly, setting their floats in front of them.

 

Tifa's eyes stayed on her a moment, before glancing at Vincent. She noticed his eyes flickering between her and Jesse. “Thank you,” she said quietly. She watched as he nodded in thanks, sliding her a sideways glance as she walked away.

 

She stared at him a moment, her mouth opening in mock shock. She leaned forward, a scandalous look on her face. “Were you just checking her out?” she asked, her voice incredulous.

 

Vincent's eyes snapped to her, confusion on his face. “No,” he said quickly.

 

Tifa searched his gaze. His eyes were wide, giving him that `deer-in-the-headlights' look. “You were too,” she said, smiling evilly. Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I saw you.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “Please,” he said. “Spare me.” He picked up his straw, unwrapping it and putting it in his float as he slid it toward him.

 

“You think she's cute, don't you?” Tifa continued.

 

Vincent took a sip of his float, and his eyes widened in surprise. “Hey, this float thing is pretty good,” he said, ignoring her dumb questions.

 

Tifa baulked a moment, before realizing what he said. “You've never had a float before?” she asked, putting her straw in her own drink. She took a sip, savoring the taste of Dr Pepper and ice cream.

 

He shook his head as he took another sip. “Nope,” he said. He looked at her innocently. “This really is good.”

 

Tifa smiled proudly. “It's a good thing you `trust my judgment as to what's good here',” she said, mocking his words.

 

He rested his elbow on the table, looking at her in irritation. “You know, you can be really annoying,” he said, his voice teasing.

 

She crossed her arms before her chest. “As can you,” she said, her nose in the air. She glanced over his left shoulder, and her face suddenly paled. “Oh my…”

 

“Tifa?” Vincent said, becoming concerned. She looked as if she'd seen a ghost.

 

“It's him,” she breathed, her hazel eyes widening in shock. Tears began to gather in her eyes, as well as murderous anger. “And he's with her…”