Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Guns and Roses ❯ Encounters ( Chapter 7 )

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

 

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Aerith walked slowly beside Cloud as they left the studio. She followed him as they walked to the parking lot, gathering her courage. She knew it was soon, maybe too soon, but she wasn't blind. She had seen the way Cloud glanced at her when Tifa wasn't looking.

 

“Cloud…” she said softly. She saw him pause, glancing at her over his shoulder.

 

He stopped when he realized she wasn't following. “Yeah?”

 

“Um, I was wondering,” she began, trying to find words. “I mean, I know it might be too soon and you might want to be alone for a while, so I understand if you don't want to…” She trailed off seeing the confused look on his face.

 

“What are you getting at?” he asked, curiosity shining in his electric blue eyes.

 

Aerith took a deep breath and let it out in a deep sigh. “Do you…do you want to go with me to get something to eat?” she asked, feeling stupid once the words were out of her mouth. She was surprised when she heard him chuckled softly.

 

“Sure,” he said. He tilted his head toward his car. “Let's go.”

 

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They arrived at Dixie's Diner a short drive later. Aerith looked at it and frowned as Cloud pulled into the parking lot. She glanced at Cloud.

 

“They have the best cheeseburgers here,” he said, catching her look. His eyes saddened with his next words. “Me and Tifa used to come here all the time and get floats and cheeseburgers.”

 

Aerith watched him for a moment, then looked away. She knew he was upset about breaking up with Tifa, even though it was something he had wanted. She got out once he parked and followed him up to the door. She stepped inside as he held the door open for her, glancing around at the quaint sixties feel of the diner. She smiled when her gaze landed on the jukebox in the corner. She turned to Cloud.

 

“Hey, got a quarter?” she asked.

 

He smiled, knowing she had seen the jukebox. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of change. He handed her five quarters, watching her grin. “Knock yourself out,” he said.

 

She met his gaze as she giggled. “Okay,” she said, skipping toward the jukebox.

 

Cloud watched her go, then looked around for a table. He started toward his and Tifa's usual table, and was surprised to see someone sitting there. He felt his jaw drop when his electric gaze clashed with Tifa's. He watched as the color drained from her face, and he felt as if the same thing had happened to him. They stared at one another a moment, before her gaze hardened, and she looked away. It was then that he noticed she wasn't alone. She was with another guy. He tempted to go say something to her, but he stopped himself.

 

She has every right to be here with him, he thought, feeling slightly hurt. We're broken up, remember. He turned away, walking to a table on the other side of the diner. He snuck glances at them as he waited for Aerith to come back. When she did, she noticed his gaze.

 

 

“Is that Tifa?” she asked, sitting across from him.

 

He nodded, feeling his hand clench into a fist.

 

Aerith gazed at them a moment more, then turned to Cloud. “Who's she with?” she asked curiously.

 

Cloud shook his head, still watching them. After a moment, he tore his eyes away, staring at the table. “I can't believe this,” he said angrily. “We're broken up for less than twenty-four hours, and she's with some guy, at our diner.”

 

Aerith reached across the table, resting her hand on his. “She has a right to move on, doesn't she?” she asked quietly, searching Cloud's face.

 

Cloud looked at her hand on his, his eyes softening. His eyes rose to meet her deep green irises, searching them intently. Finally he nodded. “I suppose she does,” he said. He glanced at them one last time. “But I can't believe she blew off practice for him.”

 

Aerith giggled softly. “Give her time,” she said kindly. “She'll be able to face you again.”

 

He looked at her sharply, his eyes narrowing. “What does that mean?”

 

She laughed softly, looking up as the waitress arrived.

 

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Tifa's eye locked with Cloud's across the diner floor. She felt her heart stop as they stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. She felt the familiar hurt and anger surface as she remembered that he was there with Aerith. Her eyes narrowed into a glare, and she looked away, breaking the spell.

 

“Tifa?” Vincent asked, waving a hand in front of her face. “Are you alright?”

 

She met his crimson gaze, feeling her anger dissipate. “I'm fine,” she said briskly.

 

A little too briskly for Vincent's liking. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing a young man standing in the door, staring at Tifa with the same look that had adorned her face. He looked back at Tifa, resting his hands on the table. “That's him, isn't it?”

 

Tifa's hazel eyes rose from the table top to meet his.

 

“That's your ex,” he said when she didn't respond.

 

She nodded, looking back at the table. “I can't believe he's here,” she said softly. “And with her.” The hurt came back to her eyes.

 

“Who?” Vincent asked, genuinely interested in what was going on.

 

“Aerith,” she said, glancing at Cloud's back as he sat at a table. “Our manager.” She sighed. “Ever since she became our manager, she had him wrapped around her little finger.” She looked back at Vincent. “You should have seen the way he used to look at her when we were at practice. It was so full of love and longing, it broke my heart.” She shook her head, feeling tears pricking her eyes again. “I should have seen it. I should have let him go when I realized I was losing him.”

 

Vincent watched as a tear slid down her cheek, and he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, offering it to her. “Don't cry Tifa,” he said softly. He offered a gentle smile. “Remember, tears don't suit you.”

 

She took the handkerchief, wiping her eyes. “I just don't understand,” she said, glancing back at Cloud.

 

Vincent saw love and confusion shining in her hazel eyes behind her tears.

 

“What does he see in her that he didn't see in me?” she asked, her voice emotional. She let her eyes rest on the table. “I mean, what? Am I ugly? Am I just not as pretty as she is?” She dabbed at her eyes. “Or maybe it's because I'm not as classy as she is.” Her voice was bitter.

 

Vincent shook his head quickly. “No, Tifa,” he said quickly. “No. He didn't know what he had.” Concern was written across his face. “Tifa, don't cry. You're just as beautiful as she is, if not more. And your sense of style is what makes you Tifa.” He watched as her tears slowly dried.

 

“Really?” she asked, hope shining in her eyes.

 

He nodded earnestly. “Really,” he said. “I wouldn't change anything about you, Tifa.” He watched as she smiled. “And besides,” he leaned toward her, motioning for her to lean in a bit, “just imagine what the world would be like if we were all Barbies and Kens.” He grimaced.

 

Tifa giggle softly at his joke. “You're right,” she said, staring at the silk handkerchief in her hands. She nodded, the last of her tears gone. “You're right.” She was silent for a moment as she stared at the hanky. She grinned ruefully. “I don't suppose you want this back,” she said, glancing at him.

 

He half-smiled. “Keep it,” he said softly. “You need it more than I do.”

 

Tifa smiled gratefully. “Thank you,” she whispered.

 

He shrugged. “It's just a hanky,” he said.

 

Her smile widened as she shook her head. “Not just for the hanky,” she said blandly. She glanced at him, meeting his gaze. “For listening to me.”

 

He smirked. “Well, someone has to,” he said shortly.

 

She tried to act offended, but was failing miserably. “Meanie,” she whispered. She watched as he quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Wow,” he said, surprise in his eyes. “No one's called me a meanie since I was a kid.”

 

She giggled. “Shut up,” she said softly.

 

“Seriously,” he said earnestly. He watched her. “I can't believe you just called me a meanie.”

 

She rolled her eyes as their food arrived. “I think you'll live,” she remarked.